A Soldier's Experience in Southern Prisons / A Graphic Description of the Author's Experiences in Various Southern Prisons

by Christian Miller Prutsman

An "underground railway"—More paroles—Bloodhounds—Bribing the guard—Bloodhound steaks—Two hundred and fifty prisoners "short"—Back to Columbia—Building barracks—A good tunnel started.

I was very secretly informed of an "underground railway," by means of which I could effect a speedy and safe exit to and through the Union lines, were I ever so fortunate as to get outside again. I was to go directly west for twenty miles, then inquire for Colonel —— of such negroes as I might see and they would take me to him; he would put me in charge of a guide, who would pilot me in a roundabout way four or five miles, then put me in charge of another guide to lead me to the next station; here guides would again be changed, each guide to lead me in the secret paths and byways as far as he was acquainted, then leave me with another colored friend and so on until I would be run in to the Union lines somewhere in Eastern Tennessee. Time dragged its weary length along, the commandant of the prison was still granting daily paroles to the men to go out after boughs and limbs until four P.M., each man writing and signing his own parole. At four o'clock the parole was taken up, and the men turned back into the prison by the officer of the guard. But how those "dirty Yanks" were working the paroles. It was so done that every day about as many Yanks were released from the bastile as there were paroles granted.

I will illustrate how this was done: Captain Biggs, of the 147th R.I. Vol. Inft., gives his parole with four others to go out and spend the day; each man gives his parole separately, all to return at four P.M. Now, Captain Biggs has a friend who is aware that he is out on parole with four others. Along about three o'clock a party presents itself at post number one; this post is allowed to speak to the guard. The party enquire for the officer of the guard, who is called, and he steps inside. Then the men approach him one at a time. The first says, "I am Captain Biggs, of the 147th R.I. Vol. Inft.; I gave my parole this morning to go out and spend the day, but we got hungry and came in after something to eat and to get a little rest; now we desire to go back and finish the day." The officer of the guard takes out his pencil and book, then and there takes each man's name, rank and regiment, and goes to the colonel's tent, compares the names with those signed on the paroles, finds them to be correct, goes back to post number one and passes them out. At four o'clock P.M. those who actually signed the paroles go to the colonel's tent, take up their paroles and are turned back into camp, all having been faithful to their pledges. The other five are now outside and left to their liberty. Of course this program is varied to suit the occasion, sometimes one man claiming the privilege, sometimes none, yet enough to average at least two men a day. But the absent men were always accounted for in the morning, by the plan before referred to, some one else counting in their place.

About this time there had been so many stragglers picked up and returned to the prison that bloodhounds were brought forth. Still this made no material difference, the desire for liberty being so strong it merely increased the caution of the men who escaped, without diminishing their numbers. All sorts of things happened in camp. One night a big hog came in and was at once dispatched by the fire of the guard. Another night a cow walked in and after five shots she was disposed of. Another night two men attempted to crawl out, and just as they passed the dead line a light was started in a sick man's quarters. They were instantly exposed to the guard. The story is that they paid the guard a ransom and then were deliberately murdered. I cannot vouch for this as I did not see the act, but I know such things did occur. Shots were often deliberately fired into camp, and no man was safe unless he was in a dug-out. Many of the guard was susceptible of bribery, however, and some of them carried out their contracts. The Yankees educated them, it is said, in this way: A prisoner would approach the guard with an offer to be passed out; the guard would reply, "That won't do, for you know what the consequences will be if I am caught." The Yankee replies, "I will fix that all right; I will give you this gold watch, also two gold rings; you can give the rings, one to each, to the guards on your right and left. When your relief comes on I will crawl out to you, give you the watch and rings, then continue to crawl on a few feet, jump up and run; then you three guards can shoot your guns in the air. I will be at liberty and you will have done all that could be expected of you." This plan is accepted, the prisoner tells a number of his associates, who have helped to make up the ransom, and they wait until the fire is drawn from the guns. Night comes, the relief is exchanged as expected, all crawl near the dead line, the instigator delivers up the treasures, jumps and runs; the guards fire, not only the three, but from other posts adjoining; now the guns are empty and a stampede ensues. The long roll beats, the cry is "Guards fall in," the cannoneers man the artillery, the camp is patrolled and all found to be quiet; the guard retires, and all await daylight. Then the hounds are sent out, the baying commences in the woods west of camp and can be heard for hours. A number of these men are captured and brought back. One man, whom I saw myself, had been bitten in the face, besides having one of his arms almost torn off.

One day two of the hounds took the back track and came into the camp. They only lived long enough to be dragged into one of the quarters, where their throats were cut, their bodies skinned and their flesh cooked and eaten by their captors.

The officials by this time began to think they were not using proper vigilance, and that their method of taking account of the prisoners was not sufficient. So they came in with a strong guard, drove all the men to one end, established a line across the center, and then passed us back over the line, single file, counting us one at a time, as they did at Libby. I was told afterwards that they found themselves short two hundred and fifty men. They searched and probed for tunnels, but in vain; the "parole plan" beat a tunnel all to pieces. Night came on, the guard was doubled, but all was quiet; no attempts were made that night. Next morning we were ordered to get ready to move as soon as possible, and after a few minutes we were marched out and back to Columbia. There we were put into one end of the asylum yard. This was about the first of January, 1865. This yard was inclosed with a brick wall, ten or twelve feet high, and they had made a high board fence across the south end, cutting off about three acres, which was to be our next prison, and into which we were marched. The location was good, with a nice green sod and plenty of good clear water.

The authorities promised to furnish nails, tools and lumber to build barracks with if we would do the work; they to send a mechanic to superintend the first building, which was to be a model for all others. A call was made for carpenters from our number. I was one of many who answered the call. This gave me the first responsibility of any enterprise during my long confinement. The nails and lumber came, also the tools and boss mechanic, who gave us the dimensions of the first house. It was to be 26x26 feet square, eight feet high, with double board crotch roof, a partition in the center and a double fireplace in the partition; the building was to hold thirty-six occupants.

A good, comfortable house was built in short order, and as soon as the outside was done, nails and lumber being plenty, bunks were made, also tables, benches and stools. While this work was progressing I made a scuttle hole to serve as the commencement of a tunnel. It was put down below the surface of the ground about two inches and in the center of the fireplace. Another of the party made a little sled about eight inches wide and sixteen long, the runners rounded at both ends, to be used to draw out the dirt from the tunnel. We surrendered our tools to the next gang which was to build the next house like ours, but before it was completed the lumber and nails gave out and that was the end of the building of the promised barracks. Like all other promises which had been made to us since our captivity there was no fulfillment. So the thirty-six that were housed, including myself, concluded that we would do our part toward aiding the rest, and we very quietly and secretly began digging the tunnel we had started under the fireplace.

One of our party, who was quite an artist with the pencil, obtained permission to go out and make a sketch of the camp, but his real object was to find out where and how long the tunnel was to be. He made the discovery that by crossing under the street, which was about fifty feet, we would open it into a ditch six feet deep, and by going down that a few yards we would come to a draw, with timber on the opposite side, consequently the tunnel would have to be about seventy-five feet long.

The earth was good, solid clay, very hard to dig, but made a good secure tunnel. Our progress was slow, only about four feet a day, and after we had dug about twenty feet a big rain came and the tunnel partly filled with water, but we bailed it out, scattered it over with dry ashes inside, and went to work again. I have seen the guard time and time again come in with picks and shovels and probe the earth right over that hole, but without success. We had dug straight down from the fireplace ten or twelve feet, then began the horizontal part, and for this reason no ordinary probing could possibly detect the tunnel. But that tunnel was not destined to be completed.