“The first going you will do, will be to go to hell, where, if the devil had his due, you would have been long ago; and before you leave us, we will give you a free ticket to the shades infernal.”
“Thank you for your kind offer to give me a free pass to the infernal regions. I did not know before that you were the devil’s ticket-agent. You have me in your power, and may destroy my life; but when you have done that, there is no more that you can do.”
Very little was said to my fellow-prisoner, Clarke. A few curses for a traitor, tory, &c., was about all. We were now placed under guard, and conducted to Tupelo, and after visiting the provost-marshal’s office and the office of the commander of the post, whose names were Peden and Clare, we were committed to the Central Military Prison. As we entered, Captain Bruce and Lieutenant Malone (two gentlemen who had been elected to those offices by their fellow-prisoners) received us with a cordial greeting. Captain Bruce thus addressed us:
“Welcome, gentlemen, thrice welcome. I am rejoiced to see you at my hotel. We are now doing a land-office business, as the large number of my boarders, whom you see, will testify. We have numerous arrivals daily, whilst the departures are very few, giving evidence that all are satisfied with their treatment. The bill of fare is not very extensive. In these war times we must not expect the luxuries of life, but be content with the necessaries. It is true, we cannot furnish you with coffee, or molasses, or sugar, or salt, or beef, or vegetables; but we have something more substantial—we have flour, rather dark in colour, to be sure, but people must not be squeamish. The boarders are required to do their own cooking, as they could otherwise have but little exercise; we consider it a sanitary measure, exercise being indispensable to health. We furnish the boarders, also, with meat—none of your lean meat, either, but fat middling, with a streak of lean in it. The Bible promises the righteous that their bread shall be given, and their water sure; but we go beyond the promise, and give not only bread (or rather the flour to make it) and water, but also fat, strong meat. What room will you be pleased to have?”
I replied, that as they seemed to be crowded, I would choose number 199.
“Well,” said the Captain, “it shall be prepared. Lieutenant Malone, have room number 199 fitted up for the reception of these gentlemen.”
Lieutenant Malone replied, that the room designated would be fitted up in style for our reception. He asked us if we had dined.
“No,” replied Clarke; “we have not tasted food since yesterday at noon, when the Parson paid for his own dinner and the dinner of the guards. We asked for something to eat, but were as often refused, and now we are in a starving condition.”
“I pity you,” said Malone, laying aside his facetious style; “you shall have something to eat as soon as it can be cooked.”
He then went to some of the prisoners, and set them to cooking, and we were soon furnished with the best repast the poor fellows could supply.