The shock on thus learning of his sister's death was a very great one to young Glazier, and his reflections for a time were bitter. He alludes to the subject himself in this way: "In the very midst of death I am permitted to drag out a weary life, while dear ones in a land of health, freedom and plenty are struck down by the fatal shaft. Her death occurred on the nineteenth of October, the very day of my capture. I was thrust into prison, and doubly bound to the groveling discomforts of earth, while she was released from the prison-house of clay, and received, I believe into the joyous, freedom of Heaven. Our lives are all in the hands of Him who doeth all things well. He appoints us a period of existence, and appoints a moment to depart. All other influences are subordinate to His will. 'What can preserve our lives, and what destroy!'"
From the moment he realized that he was in the hands of the enemy, after the battle of New Baltimore, Glazier had made up his mind to exercise sleepless vigilance in seeking for opportunities of escape. He pondered over the matter until he became a complete enthusiast in his efforts to master the minute details of the construction and topography of the place of his confinement, and, by the exercise of that natural freemasonry which enables kindred spirits to recognize each other, soon effected an understanding upon the subject with certain of the more daring of his companions in misfortune. One of these gentlemen was a Lieutenant Tresouthick, an officer of the Eighteenth Pennsylvania Cavalry. In order to comprehend the plan which they finally determined to carry out, it will be necessary to premise that Libby Prison was a three-story structure, built over very ample cellarage; that the stories were each divided into three compartments, as was the cellar; and that these spaces were all of equal size in length and breadth. For the purpose of conveying a clear conception of the locus in quo of the proposed effort, the reader should also be informed that the hospital occupied the first floor; that Lieutenant Tresouthick was one of the occupants of the room immediately above it; and that there were sinks built against the exterior wall of the same height as each story, and running the entire length of the building. The lieutenant's plan was, that "he should feign sickness and get into the hospital," says our hero, in describing the scheme; "and that I, in the meanwhile, should, with a saw-backed knife, cut a board out of the sink large enough to let us through." This looked feasible enough, and the two conspirators were beginning to felicitate themselves upon their approaching freedom, when they discovered that any such opening as they proposed, would let them out "directly opposite the guard," so that plan had to be dropped. Glazier then proposed a plan of operations, promising better and safer results. It was, that Tresouthick should still carry out his original idea of a feigned sickness and consequent admission to the hospital; that he (Glazier) should procure a piece of rope, eight or ten feet long, and then, "some dark, rainy night," the pair should "steal down into the basement"—the outer doors of which were "not locked until ten o'clock"—and await their opportunity. That, when they once reached the exterior of the building, and the sentry's back was turned, they should rush past him on either side, and, with the rope, trip him up, in the hope of being beyond the reach of his musket before he could fire. This was approved by the lieutenant, and they made up their minds to try it. Of course, it was necessary that Lieutenant Tresouthick's illness should come on very gradually, and progress naturally from bad to worse, until he became a fit subject for the hospital, so that some time was occupied in preliminary preparations before any steps could be taken for the execution of their plan.
Meanwhile, through the kindness of one of the surgeons, young Glazier was furnished with some reading matter, a very great luxury to a man in his situation and of his tastes. In his more serious hours he re-read the Bible, and committed to memory daily a portion of "Saint Matthew's Gospel;" and for relaxation read "Napoleon and his Marshals." This with an occasional game at chess, checkers, or dominos, games in which the invalids were permitted to indulge, made the hours pass much more pleasantly than those spent in the convalescent department. It is true their chess-board was made with chalk upon the floor, the "men" being pieces wrought out of bone saved from their soup, and the "checkers" old buttons ripped from their scanty wardrobe. But these rude implements afforded as much real sport as if they had been constructed of ivory or gold. The scene must at all times have been grimly grotesque in this place, for all the trades and professions had their representatives there, and the lawyers held mock courts, politicians formed caucuses, gamblers started a square game of faro, and even some ministers of the gospel gathered together a few of the prisoners each day, who listened to words of hope and comfort from their lips.
On the eighth of December Glazier made this note in his diary: "Getting into the hospital is no easy matter, but Tresouthick is becoming more and more sick, and has good hopes." But
"The best o' plans o' mice and men
Gang aft aglee;"
and all hope of escape for our two worthies was interrupted by the inconvenient fact that a couple of their comrades anticipated them in point of time, and by so doing aroused the guards to such a state of vigilance, that our over-sanguine boys saw there was no chance for them. Consequently Lieutenant Tresouthick's illness vanished as it had come, and he was soon pronounced convalescent.
CHAPTER XVII.
PRISON LIFE.
Mournful news. — How a brave man dies. — New Year's Day. — Jolly under unfavorable circumstances. — Major Turner pays his respects. — Punishment for singing "villainous Yankee songs." — Confederate General John Morgan. — Plans for escape. — Digging their way to freedom. — "Post No. 1, All's well." — Yankee ingenuity. — The tunnel ready. — Muscle the trump card. — No respect to rank. — Sauve qui peut! — A strategic movement. — "Guards! guards!" — Absentees from muster. — Disappointed hopes. — Savage treatment of prisoners. — Was the prison mined?
The Richmond papers occasionally found their way into the hands of the prisoners, and the following mournful item of news is transcribed from one of them. The writer of the ensuing letter was a man about thirty years of age, who was accused by the rebel authorities of having acted as a spy on behalf of the Union government. A gloom hung over the prison for some days after the reading of the article: