We soon built a comfortable cabin in partnership with some other captured runaways who had just been brought to this stockade, and one of these, Lieutenant Bushnell, of the 120th Illinois, became my berthmate when lots were cast to see who should occupy the several rude bunks erected in our mansion.
Sweet potatoes at this time were $10 a bushel in Confederate money, and my supply of cash came in so handy that we were enabled to refuse all rations and to live on the fat of the land; but we did not risk the gout by so doing. The fat of the land in those days was so well streaked with lean that everyone had to take much lean in order to get any fat, and the rebels themselves did not live in luxury.
There were about 250 prisoners now at this point. The rations served to them were brought in on a board. In order to get the privilege of doing our own cooking we asked and obtained special permission to have our rations served raw, and so we managed to have what we wanted.
There was a "greaser," from Mexico, on the outside, who made and sold potato pies. I would get five for a $5 bill and give Bushnell two. At the next pie meal he would reverse the order of things.
We made the acquaintance of a squad of men from the 16th Regiment of Indiana Mounted Infantry, their leading spirit being a Captain Moore.
At roll-call the guards made the prisoners stand out in line, and Moore was frequently prodded with a sword for hanging back and delaying matters.
One day we made an excellent dummy from an old log and some clothes, and carefully deposited it in Moore's bunk, covering it naturally with what bedclothes we had. At next roll-call Moore was not to be found, and the guards, after much swearing, went up to his cabin and found him, apparently, in bed and asleep. After several calls and shakes, accompanied by some artistic profanity, one of them prodded him gently with his sword. A little harder punch followed, when he still slept, and then a vicious one, when they threw back the covers and discovered the deception. A crowd had followed them, and they were now well laughed at, but they took it good-humoredly, only swearing at Moore for his deviltry. When we went back to roll-call Moore was in his place in line, and, as he gave a good excuse for absence and disclaimed all knowledge of any joke, the guards had to be satisfied with some general cussing.
The rebel prisoners were also kept in this stockade—men who, as at Washington, were imprisoned for various crimes and offenses.
One rebel prisoner complained of a theft. Moore hunted around, found a suspect, convened a court-martial, had the man tried, found guilty and sentenced to receive ten lashes, which were duly administered.
The court-martial and punishment are worthy of note. All the preparations for the trial were made in due and ancient form, as formally as if it had been ordered by the regularly-constituted authorities in military life. The army (the prisoners) was well represented by a judge-advocate, and the culprit by "learned counsel." The offender was placed on the stand, and then witnesses for both sides were thoroughly questioned and cross-questioned. Being found guilty in usual form, the prisoner was sentenced as solemnly as if before a regular court. The punishment was given by causing the thief to be bent over a stump, with his hands and feet held by Confederate prisoners, while the ten stripes were laid on with a halter strap in the hands of another, who did not spare the victim. The rebel prisoners endorsed the proceedings as being perfectly legal and just.