Chapter 25

BORROWING SEVEN HUNDRED DOLLARS OF A REB.

Along in January, 1865, I began to get short of money, and as the jewelry, watches, etc., were about played out, I was in danger of being obliged to suspend, for want of stock to sell from. Just at this time, the reb Sergeant came in one day and inquired if any one had greenbacks, they wished to exchange for Confederate money.

He came to our mess, as it was the one most likely to be able to accommodate him, and said there was a gentleman outside who would give seven hundred dollars in Confederate for one hundred in greenbacks, or, if we had not the currency, a check on Riggs & Co.'s bank, of Washington, D. C., would be accepted, provided we would write a letter and give it to him, asking our friends at home to deposit the amount there, stating that we had drawn a check for one hundred dollars on that bank, to subsist ourselves while in prison.

I took seven hundred dollars of him and Lieutenant Leyden of my mess, took the same amount, just to accommodate him; and I wrote the required letter to my wife, while Leyden wrote one to his brother, in Rochester, N. Y. These checks and letters were given by him to General Hayes, who had been ordered to Richmond, as was supposed, for exchange; and who agreed to bring them through the lines, and forward the letters to their address, and deposit the checks with Riggs & Co. When I got all this money I was flush again; and distributed it around among my friends and comrades, ten dollars to one, and twenty to another, as their necessities seemed to warrant, keeping what I thought would do me until I got out, or could make another raise.

I laid in quite a stock of provisions for myself, and helped those of my friends who had no money, and needed something more than the rations they drew to live upon.

Colonel Smith had established a rule, that three officers could go every day, under a guard of two soldiers, to visit their friends in the hospital, a mile or so distant, by applying for permission by letter to him. Applications for this privilege would be filed, and permission granted when their turn came; it might be a week after the application was filed, before we could go. Lieutenant Leyden, myself and another, made our application, and waited for our turn, to take a walk of a couple of miles in the open air; for this was really all we wished to do. We were called out one day soon after, and with two guards over us, strolled over to the hospital, which was about a mile from where we were confined. We had a nice walk, and as we were returning, we asked the guard to take us into a saloon, where we could get a drink before we went back to prison.

The guard did not know whether they would be allowed to do this, but meeting an officer they asked him, if it would be right to go with us. Why of course, said he, take them wherever they want to go. They then took us into a little ten by twelve room, where there was a bar, and I asked all hands to have a drink. Applejack was the only beverage, so all five of us took that; and thinking as the Governor of North Carolina, has been quoted as saying to the Governor of South Carolina, that "it's a long time between drinks," I set 'em up again. The guards refused to drink a second time, probably fearing that it might incapacitate them from properly guarding us, so I only had eight drinks to pay for altogether. We were not given a bottle and glasses to help ourselves as is usual, but the bartender poured out a wine glass full for each. How much do you want I asked, pulling out a roll of Confederate; forty dollars was his reply. I handed him a fifty dollar bill and receiving my change, went on, stopping at two or three stores on the way back to make other purchases. We had a jolly time that night and whooped things up a little, for by the time we got back into prison, the applejack, which was old and powerful, began to work, and we were just in the proper frame of mind to make things look cheerful to us. I am afraid we were somewhat annoying to some of our comrades who wanted to sleep that night, and not having had any applejack could not appreciate the fun.

I shall never forget the Christmas dinner I ate in Danville prison in 1864, and I do not think any of the half dozen who dined with me that day, will ever forget it either. I bought a turkey weighing thirteen and three-fourths pounds for forty dollars, and took it over to the bake-shop to be roasted. The cooks were Union soldiers, who did the baking for the sake of getting better rations, and I got them to stuff the turkey with crusts of white bread, that they had baked for the rebs.

They brought it in nicely roasted, and I managed, by giving one of the guards ten dollars, to get a canteen of applejack, and I also bought a loaf of white bread, so that we had quite a civilized dinner. Six of us sat down together, viz: General Hayes, Captain Seeley, Captain Albert Thomas, Lieutenant Leyden, Lieutenant VanDerweed, and myself, "and we drank from the same canteen." Talk about starvation in Southern prisons! Why just see what a dinner six of us had that day; and all it cost was about seventy dollars. We could live like that nearly two weeks on a thousand dollars.

Of course every prisoner did not have the money to afford these luxuries, and were obliged to put up with the corn bread ration, served out by the rebel authorities; but the Confederate government "of course was not to blame if the poor boys starved, because they did not have money to buy all they wanted." There was plenty to eat, only our boys did not have the money to buy it with. I never asked Riggs & Co. whether they ever paid that check for seven hundred dollars or not, and have forgotten the name of the generous hearted reb who loaned it to me, but this I know, that I am still indebted to some one for my good fare for a month or two, during my last days in Danville. Now I have told you how I managed to get a living in Danville, and will tell how some others managed to get theirs.

I have spoken of Captain H. H. Alban, who was my companion during the latter part of my tramp through South Carolina, Georgia and North Carolina, and who was recaptured with me. The same opportunities were afforded him to make money enough to subsist himself, as were enjoyed by me, but he was not adapted to buying and selling. He earned money enough to get along, however, by hard labor.

He would go out with the water detail once in a while, and when he came back he would bring along on his shoulder a good straight stick of cord wood. Then with a case knife that he had made into a saw, he would cut it up into pieces about eight inches long, and with wooden wedges that he had whittled out, would split these up fine, say about half an inch thick, and tie them up into bundles for cooking rations with. These bundles would be about six inches in diameter and eight inches long, which he would sell for two dollars each.

By being economical, one of these bundles of hard wood splinters, (they were usually beach or maple) would last a person two or three days to cook his rations with.

Nearly all of the cooking was done in one quart tin pails or in tin plates.

Broken pieces of flat iron were sometimes used to build the fires upon, but most of the prisoners cooked on the stoves that were in the two rooms.

Some of the officers in the different prisons made beautiful trinkets out of beef bones, such as napkin rings, paper cutters, crochet needles, pen holders, imitations of books, etc., and sold them to their fellow-prisoners to take home with them as souvenirs of their prison life.

Some of these bone-workers were skilled artists, and could fashion anything out of a beef bone. I have seen as fine a piece of work of this kind, done with the rude tools that the mechanic had made himself, as I have ever seen made with the latest and most approved machinery. Carving of the most exquisite patterns, and in beautiful designs could be seen in one of these collections.

I remember of seeing one napkin-ring carved out in open work, connected with a continuous vine with beautiful clusters of grapes, the price of which was $100. I bought, and brought home with me, $35 worth of these trinkets.

A number of us belonging to five or six different messes bought a small cook stove for which we paid, I believe, a hundred or a hundred and fifty dollars. There were two griddle holes in it and a small oven in which one loaf of bread could be baked at a time. It was an old affair that here would not bring more than it would come to as old iron, but to us it was a great treasure. We arranged among ourselves to take turns cooking upon it, for instance one would have the first use of it one day, and then the next day he would be the last to use it, and so each in their turn would have the first chance to cook for one day.

Those who had the last chance would have a pretty late breakfast, dinner and supper, for it would take each one at least half an hour to get a meal. Those who had no means of cooking their rations, would come and beg the privilege of setting their tin cups on our stove to warm their coffee, which was usually made out of burnt rye or peas, and sometimes of scorched wheat bran.

Every morning the whole surface of the stove would be covered with these tin cups during the whole time the stove was in use; and even after the different messes had all got through it would be engaged by outside parties for nearly the whole day, each taking their turns in the order that their applications were made. Of course those who owned a share in the stove always took precedence if they wished to do any extra cooking or baking during the day. We often used to make griddle cakes for breakfast, either out of our corn bread rations soaked up in water with a little corn meal added, or mixed up with flour and water with sometimes an egg stirred in if we could afford it, but as eggs were twelve to fifteen dollars a dozen this expensive luxury was dispensed with most of the time.

The two large Peckham stoves for warming the room were always in use, the boys hanging their pails by hooked wires against the hot sides so that, especially in the morning, they would be completely encircled with these hanging pails, and there would always be a crowd waiting for the next chance. Some would hold their cups by the handle against the stove, changing hands whenever it became too hot, and others would stand, holding a pail out on a stick run through the bale.

Quarrels were frequent over their turns, for all were tenacious of their rights, and there, as here, some were always ready for a quarrel, and very jealous of their rights and watchful lest they were trespassed upon.

There were at least three artists in this Danville prison, viz: Captain Albert Thomas, who now has a studio in Syracuse, N. Y., Lieutenant VanDerweed and another, whose name I do not now remember; but almost every prisoner who was confined in Danville, will remember him as the officer who was once sent down the river from Richmond for exchange, but who, while passing Fort Fisher, was detected by the Confederate officer in charge, in making a sketch of that fortification, and return to prison. He was finally paroled with the rest of us, and we chaffed him considerable while we were going down the river, some of the boys teasing him to make them a sketch of the Reb iron-clads in the river, or of Fort Fisher.

Lieutenant VanDerweed made a number of sketches of prison scenes and some fine pencil sketches of officers. He also went outside to make pencil sketches of Confederate gentlemen and ladies, and while thus engaged, of course, lived well and enjoyed pleasant society.

Captain Albert Thomas was solicited to do the same, but said in his expressive way, that he would starve and see all the rebs in ---- (he mentioned some warm climate) before he would make a picture of one of them. He made some excellent pencil sketches of different officers in the prison and among them one of Colonel W. C. Raulston, who met so sad a fate in the attempted outbreak on the Tenth of December, 1864, but this sketch unfortunately, was lost.

He also made a good one of myself, from which I have procured a cut for this volume, and which I highly prize.

There were also in Danville, as in other prisons where I was confined, sutlers who bought provisions of the Johnnies and sold to their comrades at a profit. They would buy two or three pounds of bacon of the Johnnies and cut it up into small pieces of about two ounces each, and sell these to their comrades, who either had not money enough to buy more, or were too fond of their own comfort to go down stairs at eleven o'clock at night to buy of the guard.