When I was made acquainted with the scheme by Judge Wilson of the Hood’s Texas Brigade, who was a Mason and had a number of Masonic friends among the Marylanders, there were two men out then and after giving them a reasonable time to get away, he had made arrangements for he and I to go out next, but alas, the two men out then were captured and exposed the whole plan, which put an end to it.
Another plan of escape was attempted by others, that of wading out in the bay on dark nights, in water deep enough to barely expose their heads, but when they got opposite the fort those shrewd Yankees had cast an anchor about a quarter of a mile out, to which was attached a rope and the rope attached to a bell inside of the fort, so when the prisoner, wading along in the deep water, would strike this rope, he would ring the bell, which invariably resulted in his discovery.
Other attempts at escape by some of the Marylanders, through bribery of the guard at the gate leading out on the bay shore, invariably failed. The guards would take the bribe, then report the case when he permitted the prisoners to pass out of the gate. The escaping prisoners would then be charged on by a lot of cavalry in waiting around the corner of the fence and shot down by them.
General Butler next conceived the idea to go to Richmond with a batch of prisoners and attempt an exchange, not for the purpose of relieving the prisoners, but simply to test his own case with the Confederate Government. On his arrival at City Point, it seems some arrangement was made that enabled him to deliver these prisoners, presumably in a fair exchange for prisoners held by us. In this batch of prisoners were a number of Marylanders, who thoughtlessly published in a Richmond paper their sufferings and hardships, as well as ill treatment at the hands of the Federal authorities, and particularly denounced Captain Patterson, who had charge of the Point Lookout prison, in most bitter terms. By accident Captain Patterson got hold of a copy of a Richmond paper containing these charges and with it, went to the Maryland Division, read it to the men and told them if further exchanges were had he would see to it that the Marylanders should be the last to leave there.
After this, the Marylanders in the prison, having denounced the article as ill advised and improper, began again to court the favor of Captain Patterson and, after several months, concluded that they had about succeeded in regaining his confidence. One morning they were notified to get ready to go to City Point for exchange. Of course, there was considerable enthusiasm among the Marylanders and I decided to go out with them, in the name of Stanley. We were marched out and carried into another bull pen, kept there five or six hours, when we were permitted to return into our old quarters and found the Tennessee Division had been placed aboard the flag of truce boat and sailed for City Point. It is hardly necessary to say that I was the greatest disappointed man among them, because I also belonged to the Tennessee Division.
In about two weeks the Louisiana Division was called for, to which I also belonged and availed myself of the Louisianan’s name, the owner of which was dead, and passed out with them.
At the mouth of the James River we passed a fleet of gunboats and ships, and in due time arrived at City Point, where we anchored in midstream. The exchange agent, Major Mulford, immediately went ashore and telegraphed to Richmond our arrival. We were anchored here several days, expecting hourly a Confederate boat to put in its appearance with the equivalent of Federal prisoners to be returned in exchange. After several days, having been told that our boat surely would arrive the second day, and as it had not put in its appearance, we decided that there was a hitch somewhere and that we were liable to be carried back. We expected, hourly, a couple of gunboats to come in sight to escort us back to Point Lookout.
The situation, to us, began to look gloomy, and created a feeling of desperation. We were determined never to be taken back to look inside of another prison. In accordance therewith we soon made up a party of about a hundred, agreeing to overpower the guard on the boat if the Confederate boat didn’t make its appearance by ten o’clock next morning.
On the cabin deck of this boat were quite a number of Confederate officers, among them General W. H. Fitts Lee, who had been wounded and captured. He was a son of General Robert E. Lee, and to him we communicated our intentions and asked their support. He replied, urging us to make no such attempt, that everything was all right and the object of our trip would be carried out without doubt. I told the men that we could not afford to accept his advice; that we had too much at stake, and I construed General Lee’s position to be prompted by what he conceived his duty as a Confederate officer. I urged them, by all means, to carry out our plan.
The next day about noon I was sound asleep under the stepladder leading up to the hatch, when awakened by considerable tumult around me. I discovered about a half dozen men on the ladder, ready to make a charge on the upper deck, where the guards were located. It so happened that the man at the top of the ladder hesitated and by way of encouragement, I called to him, “Don’t you stop there; put your shoulders under the hatch and throw it off.” He proved to be an Irishman who said, “The divil, you say; you come up here and take my place.” There was nothing to do but climb up the ladder and take his place. I soon put my back to the hatch and sent it up, whirling on the deck, and jumped on the deck myself. The guard on duty threw his gun down on me, telling me to go back or he would kill me. I called to the men, “Come on, boys,” but none would follow. I noticed General Lee in the front part of the boat, motioning to me, “Go back; go back.” It is hardly necessary for me to say that I felt like a fool and went back.