About the second day afterward circumstances indicated that our intention to escape was known to the officers of the guard. They would come into our room, ostensibly for a friendly visit, but we noticed that they were examining the windows and floor while chatting with us. Within a foot of the building was a six-foot board fence, and that was taken away, giving the sentry on duty a full view of our side of the walls. Then we knew, for certain, that something was wrong. On Saturday morning permission was obtained to have the room floor scrubbed. Everything was piled on the table and a general housecleaning took place. All of us then went into the yard until the floor got dry. As we anticipated, the officer on duty went into the room during our absence and gave it a thorough inspection, but nothing was discovered. We congratulated ourselves upon the successful issue of our game of bluff.
Sunday night, about eight o'clock, we heard an unusual noise in the guard-room, which sounded very much like sawing a hole in the floor. After a while the racket ceased, and we resumed our slumbers. Suddenly our room door was opened, Captain Sennes with several of the guards walked in, some armed with muskets and others with lighted candles. We were counted and reported as "all present."
"Gentlemen, I have found your hole!" was the startling announcement.
The whole affair was so ludicrous and unexpected that we began laughing. Captain Sennes was excited, and well pleased with the idea of having discovered our plan of escape.
"Now, gentlemen, I shall have to keep a guard in your room for the remainder of the night."
Of course we had no objections. About three o'clock in the morning he changed his mind and ordered us to be escorted into the room occupied by Williams and Porter. All the little portable articles we possessed, which might tempt the cupidity of the rebs, were hastily gathered up and our change of quarters soon effected. There was no more sleep for us. So much excitement in one night was too much for our delicate systems.
In the morning Captain Sennes concluded to confine the navy and army officers on the second floor. That part of the building was the "bull pen" for the conscripts. Every part of South Carolina was thoroughly searched for shirkers from military duty. The "poor whites," as they were called, would be taken from their families, manacled two together, and brought to the jail. When a squad of fifty was obtained, they would be sent to the front and distributed among different regiments. As a class they were very ignorant, but few of them knowing what the war was about.
"What do you 'uns want to come down here and whip we 'uns for?" was their only argument. But at the same time they would fight—there was no mistaking that fact.
Our new quarters were very uncomfortable in many respects: there were dirt and filth everywhere. An old box-stove in a small room was our fire-place. The conscripts had no firewood, so they had used the doors and frames for fuel, then the window-sashes and casings were utilized, and next was the lath from the partitions. That floor had plenty of ventilation. No difference which way the wind would come from, we got the full benefit of it. The rooms were divided between us, the army taking one side of the building, the naval officers the other, the hall-way being used as a promenade by all the tenants. No attempt was made to keep us separate as in the past, for the reason that the doors and partitions were lacking. The view of the city in our locality was very good. When we got tired of looking from one side of the building we could cross over and take a view in the opposite direction. The newspapers had blood-curdling articles in regard to our attempt at escaping. We were alluded to as "Yankee hirelings," and other pet names were bestowed upon us. Even poor Mrs. Crane got a roasting because her house happened to be over the exit of the tunnel. Quite a number of visitors came to the jail to view our work, but finally the whole affair became stale and forgotten. Then it occurred to Captain Sennes that it would be quite proper to plug the hole up. He was very anxious to know who engineered the work, but, very naturally, every one was bashful about claiming that honour. At last he unbosomed himself: "Gentlemen, as you constructed the tunnel, probably you can inform me how to fill it up." Now that question was a poser to all of us. A great many suggestions were made, but all proved unsatisfactory. Finally, the captain had the shaft filled up with brickbats and broken bottles. In the passage-way between the two buildings they dug down to the tunnel and put in a load of clay. With every rainstorm the clay would settle and leave a big hole. From observation and much debating on the subject, it was conceded that the proper plan would have been to dig it up from end to end. Our new quarters were quite uncomfortable. I devised all sorts of schemes to keep myself warm at night. Sleeping on a bare floor, the lack of blankets, and the cold wind, made a combination which it was useless to contend against. All I could do was to wait patiently for daylight, and then, by walking and exercising, get myself warmed up.
The sixty privates in the yard also caught the tunnel mania. The barracks had a wooden floor. Two boards were removed, and an excavation made to the rear of the building. The exit was in an adjoining garden. Not much skill in engineering was displayed on their part. They simply dug until they felt like stopping. The distance from the surface was ascertained by pushing a stick up through the ground. It was left there projecting above the surface. We were informed of their plans and intention to escape that night. It seems that Captain Sennes was also fully posted as to what was going on. A number of the rebs were stationed in the garden. The stick projecting from the ground indicated the place from which the prisoners would emerge. Orders were given to let a number of the Yankees come out, then to fire into the crowd and kill as many as possible. Fortunately, the first man to come out—Peter Keefe—happened to see one of the rebs. He gave the alarm to his companions. Being still on his hands and knees, he thought his best chance would be in making a bold run for liberty. As he jumped up a reb fired, the bullet shattering Keefe's left knee. The leg had to be amputated. The next day all the privates were removed from the yard and confined with us. That made affairs still worse, there being hardly space enough for us to lie down at night. Two escaped prisoners from Andersonville were added to our numbers. They arrived late at night, and, as it was dark, we could not see what they looked like. The lieutenant of the guard asked us to find a place for them to lie down. Brayton slept on the table. Calling the men, he said they could find room enough underneath.