"How many have you eaten?"
"This is the first one," I replied.
"Well, that is lucky for you. Had you eaten twelve of them, you would have been a dead man inside of twenty-four hours." He asked who gave them to me. Well, that I knew nothing about, as I was asleep and supposed that Beauty had left them for me. He took away the plate and went after Beauty. My German sailor friend was not found out, but the chasm between Dirty Stockings and myself was greatly widened.
I soon became convalescent. A reb with a loaded musket escorted me back to my old quarters in the jail. My fellow-prisoners gave me a cordial reception. It was at one time thought by them that I would remain permanently in the South. All monotony in our prison life was now over. Exciting news was heard every day. Sherman's army was marching through Georgia. The rebs were drawing our troops away from their base of supplies. All the "invading hirelings" were to be killed, gobbled up, and other dire calamities were to befall them. Wheeler's cavalry went howling through Columbia on their way to annihilate Sherman's "bummers." The citizens cheered, and the ladies waved their handkerchiefs and threw kisses at them. Those fellows were going to raise —— sure enough. We had a good view of the whole proceeding from our window. A few cat-calls were given by us to help along the excitement. Not many weeks afterward that same cavalry went through Columbia again, but their noses were pointed in the opposite direction, with Sherman's cavalry not many miles in the rear. Those gallant defenders of the South looted all the stores on Main Street, and carried all they could conveniently get away with. No ladies threw kisses at them that time.
The Yankee officers confined in Libby Prison were removed to Charleston and placed under the fire of the Federal guns in hopes that the shelling of the city would be stopped. Through some means, the locality in which the prisoners were confined was made known to the Union troops, consequently none were killed. Several changes of localities were made, always with the same result. Finally the rebel provost-marshal and several of his guards were killed by Yankee shells, and then the prisoners were all sent to Columbia and confined in a stockade on the other side of the river—"Camp Sorghum," as it was christened by the Yankees. The prisoners at Andersonville were hastily sent to different parts of the Confederacy to keep them out of reach of Sherman's troops.
"Gentlemen, there will arrive this evening one hundred and seventeen Yankee officers, and arrangements will have to be made for them to share your quarters," was Captain Sennes's announcement.
We made hasty preparations to receive the "fresh fish." They ranked from second lieutenant up to colonel. Such a motley and reckless lot I never met before. All had been captured inside the rebel forts when the mine was exploded at Petersburg. We were uncomfortably crowded for room with so many men, and Captain Sennes proposed to the old prisoners that we should sign a parole and return to our quarters on the first floor. We readily agreed to it. On our part, we were not to escape by tunnelling, or from the yard; on their part, our door was to be left open, with liberty to go into the yard when necessary, and also one hour in the morning and afternoon for recreation.
Williams and Porter had been released from irons. The six officers highest in rank among the new arrivals were assigned to the rooms which they had vacated, and granted the same privileges as we. On Main Street was the printing establishment of Ball & Keating. The building extended across the rear of our yard. We were greatly surprised to see a number of young ladies taking a good view of the prisoners from a second-story window. The rebs had gotten scared, and had moved the Bureau of Printing and Engraving from Richmond to Columbia. Ball & Keating's establishment was selected for the printing of the Confederate currency. The money was not worth stealing. An ordinary burglar could have taken away a cart-load of the notes. At night the money was left loose in the different rooms, the same as a lot of hand-bills in a common printing-office. The lady employés, as a means of recreation, would gaze at the Yankee hirelings in the prison-yard. A number of the privates had no coats or shirts, and were barefoot. The sight must have been very interesting.
When the officers were in the yard the privates had to remain in the barracks. That was the time that those young ladies from Virginia showed their good breeding. If one of us happened to get within spitting distance of a window, up would go their noses and down would come the saliva. At first we were inclined to be angry, but that was just what those females liked, so we changed our tactics, and threw kisses back when they spat. By that means the spitting was stopped. Every day we would hear exciting news from different sources.
What interested us most came direct from the Secretary of the Confederate navy. He authorized some gentlemen to make arrangements for a special exchange of prisoners. They called upon us and made the proposition that two naval officers should be paroled and sent to Washington to see if an exchange of naval prisoners, regardless of rank or numbers, could be effected. Lieutenant-Commanders Williams and Prendergast were given the mission. Both were given paroles for thirty days. If our Government consented to the proposition, they were to remain North; if not, they were to return to Richmond within a specified time. All the necessary documents were given to them, and they were started for Richmond the next day and taken to our lines on a flag-of-truce boat. Inside the thirty days we were notified that the exchange would be made. Great was the joy among our party at the prospect of soon returning home. It was soon known in Columbia that we were to be exchanged. Then I became mixed up in a mysterious affair which I have never been able to solve. Captain Sennes came to our room with a woman.