Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: February 13, 1864

Bright, beautiful weather, with frosty nights.

The dispatches I cut from the papers to-day are interesting. Gen. Wise, it appears, has met the enemy at last, and gained a brilliant success—and so has Gen. Finnegan. But the correspondence between the President and Gen. Johnston, last spring and summer, indicates constant dissensions between the Executive and the generals. And the President is under the necessity of defending Northern born generals, while Southern born ones are without trusts, etc.

INTERESTING FROM FLORIDA.

 

OFFICIAL DISPATCH.

 

Charleston, February 11th, 1864.

To Gen. S. Cooper.

 

Gen Finnegan has repulsed the enemy's force at Lake City— details not known.

 

G. T. Beauregard.

 

SECOND DISPATCH.

 

Charleston, February 11th—11 A.m.

To Gen. S. Cooper.

 

Gen. Finnegan's success yesterday was very creditable—the enemy's force being much superior to his own. His reinforcements had not reached here, owing to delays on the road. Losses not yet reported.

 

G. T. Beauregard.

 

 

REPULSE OF THE ENEMY NEAR CHARLESTON.

OFFICIAL DISPATCH.

 

Charleston, February 12th, 1864.

 

Gen. Wise gallantly repulsed the enemy last evening on John's Island. He is, to-day, in pursuit. Our loss very trifling. The force of the enemy is about 2000; ours about one-half.

 

G. T. Beauregard.

Every day we recapture some of the escaped Federal officers. So far we have 34 of the 109.

The President sent over a "confidential" sealed letter to the Secretary to-day. I handed it to the Secretary, who was looking pensive.

Dr. McClure, of this city, who has been embalming the dead, and going about the country with his coffins, has been detected taking Jews and others through the lines. Several live men have been found in his coffins.

Again it is reported that the enemy are advancing up the Peninsula in force, and, to-morrow being Sunday, the local troops may be called out. But Gen. Rhodes is near with his division, so no serious danger will be felt, unless more than 20,000 attack us. Even that number would not accomplish much—for the city is fortified strongly.

It is rumored by blockade-runners that gold in the North is selling at from 200 to 500 per cent, premium. If this be true, our day of deliverance is not distant.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the ConfederaStates Capital, Volume 2, p. 148-9

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: February 14, 1864

Clear and windy. There is nothing new that I have heard of; but great apprehensions are felt for the fate of Mississippi—said to be penetrated to its center by an overwhelming force of the enemy. It is defended, however, or it is to be, by Gen. (Bishop) Polk.

I hear of more of the escaped Federal officers being brought in to-day.

The correspondence between the President and Gen. Johnston is causing some remark. The whole is not given. Letters were received from Gen. J. to which no allusion is made, which passed through my hands, and I think the fact is noted in this diary. He intimated, I think, that the position assigned him was equivocal and unpleasant in Tennessee. He did not feel inclined to push Bragg out of the field, and the President, it seems, would not relieve Bragg.

Mr. Secretary Seddon, it is now said, is resolved to remain in office.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 149-50

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: February 15, 1864

We have over forty of the escaped Federal officers. Nothing more from Gens. Wise and Finnegan. The enemy have retreated again on the Peninsula. It is said Meade's army is falling back on Washington.

We have a snow storm to-day.

The President is unfortunate with his servants, as the following from the Dispatch would seem:

"Another of President Davis's Negroes run away. — On Saturday night last the police were informed of the fact that Cornelius, a negro man in the employ of President Davis, had run away. Having received some clew of his whereabouts, they succeeded in finding him in a few hours after receiving the information of his escape, and lodged him in the upper station house. When caught, there was found on his person snack enough, consisting of cold chicken, ham, preserves, bread, etc., to last him for a long journey, and a large sum of money he had stolen from his master. Some time after being locked up, he called to the keeper of the prison to give him some water, and as that gentleman incautiously opened the door of his cell to wait on him, Cornelius knocked him down and again made his escape. Mr. Peter Everett, the only watchman present, put off after him; but before running many steps stumbled and fell, injuring himself severely."

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 150

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: January 14, 1864

Mr. A. ——, editor of the ——, recommends the Secretary of War to get Congress to pass, in secret session, a resolution looking to a reconstruction of the Union on the old basis, and send Commissioners to the Northern Governors. Meantime, let the government organize an army of invasion, and march into Pennsylvania. The object being to sow dissension among the parties of the North.

A letter from a Mr. Stephens, Columbia, S. C, to the President, says it is in his power to remove one of the evils which is bringing the administration into disrepute, and causing universal indignation—Gen. Winder. The writer says Winder drinks excessively, is brutish to all but Marylanders, and habitually receives bribes, etc. The President indorsed on it that he did not know the writer, and the absence of specifications usually rendered action unnecessary. But perhaps the Secretary may find Mr. S.'s character such as to deserve attention.

Captain Warner says it is believed there will be a riot, perhaps, when Col. Northrop, the Commissary-General, may be immolated by the mob. Flour sold to-day at $200 per barrel; butter, $8 per pound; and meat from $2 to $4. This cannot continue long without a remedy.

The President has another reception to-night.

A Yankee Account Of The Treatment Op Confederate Prisoners.—The Chicago Times gives the account which follows of the treatment of our soldiers at Camp Douglas.

It is said that about four weeks ago one of the prisoners was kindling his fire, which act he had a right to perform, when one of the guard accosted him with, “Here, what are you doing there?” The prisoner replied, “That is not your business,” when the guard instantly drew his musket and shot the fellow dead. It is said also that a mulatto boy, a servant of one of the Confederate captains, and, of course, a prisoner of war, who was well known to have a pass to go anywhere within the lines, was walking inside the guard limits about a day after the above occurrence, when the guard commanded him to halt. He did not stop, and was instantly killed by a bullet.

It is also charged that, at the time the discovery was made of an attempt on the part of some of the prisoners to escape, a party of three or four hundred was huddled together and surrounded by a guard; that one of them was pushed by a comrade and fell to the ground, and that instantly the unfortunate man was shot, and that three or four others were wounded. It is further stated that it is no uncommon thing for a soldier to fire on the barracks without any provocation whatever, and that two men were thus shot while sleeping in their bunks a week or two ago, no inquiry being made into the matter. No court-martial has been held, no arrest has been made, though within the past month ten or twelve of the prisoners have been thus put out of the way. Another instance need only be given: one of the prisoners asked the guard for a chew of tobacco, and he received the bayonet in his breast without a word.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 128-9

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: December 22, 1863

Averill has escaped, it is feared. But it is said one of his regiments and all his wagons will be lost.

Gen. Longstreet writes (16th instant) that he must suspend active operations for the want of shoes and clothing. The Quartermaster-General says he sent him 3500 blankets a few days since.

There are fifty-one quartermasters and assistant quartermasters stationed in this city!

Pound cakes, size of a small Dutch oven, sell at $100. Turkeys, from $10 to $40.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 118

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: December 13, 1864

In The Woods. — How does that sound for a location to date from? Yesterday long toward night our train started from its abiding place and rolled slowly toward its destination, wherever that might he. When near Savannah, not more than a mile this side, David Buck jumped off the cars and rolled down the bank. I jumped next and Eli Buck came right after me. Hastily got up and joined one another, and hurried off in an easterly direction through the wet, swampy country. A number of shots were fired at us, but we were surprised and glad to find that none hit us, although my cap was knocked off by a bullet hitting the fore-piece. Eli Buck was also singed by a bullet. It seemed as if a dozen shots were fired. Train did not stop, and we ran until tired out. Knew that we were within a line of forts which encircle Savannah, going all the way around it and only twenty rods or so apart. It was dark when we jumped off, and we soon came in the vicinity of a school house in which was being held a negro prayer meeting. We peeked in at the windows, but dared not stop so near our jumping off place. Worked around until we were near the railroad again and guided by the track going south—the same way we had come. It was very dark. Dave Buck went ahead, Eli next and myself last, going Indian file and very slow. All at once Dave stopped and whispered to us to keep still, which you may be sure we did. Had come within ten feet of a person who was going directly in the opposite direction and also stopped, at the same time we did Dave Buck says: "Who comes there?" A negro woman says “it’s me,” and he walked up close to her and asked where she was going. She says: “Oh! I knows you; yon are Yankees and has jumped off de cars.” By this time we had come up even with Dave and the woman. Owned up to her that such was the case. She said we were her friends, and would not tell of us. Also said that not twenty rods ahead there was a rebel picket, and we were going right into them. I think if I ever wanted to kiss a woman, it was that poor, black, negro wench. She told us to go about thirty rods away and near an old shed, and she would send us her brother; he would know what to do. We went to the place designated and waited there an hour, and then we saw two dusky forms coming through the darkness, and between them a wooden tray of food consisting of boiled turnips, corn bread and smoked bacon. We lay there behind that old shed and ate and and talked, and talked and ate, for a full hour more The negro, “Major,” said he was working on the forts, putting them in order to oppose the coming of the Yankees, and he thought he could get us through the line before morning to a safe hiding place. If we all shook hands once we did fifty times, all around. The negroes were fairly jubilant at being able to help genuine Yankees. Were very smart colored people, knowing more than the ordinary run of their race. Major said that in all the forts was a reserve picket force, and between the forts the picket. He said pretty well south was a dilapidated fort which had not as yet been repaired any, and that was the one to go through or near, as he did not think there was any picket there. “Bress de Lord, for yo’ safety.” says the good woman. We ate all they brought us, and then started under the guidance of Major at somewhere near midnight. Walked slow and by a roundabout way to get to the fort and was a long time about it, going through a large turnip patch and over and through hedges. Major's own safety as much as ours depended upon the trip. Finally came near the fort and discovered there were rebels inside and a picket off but a few rods. Major left us and crawled slowly ahead to reconnoitre; returned in a few minutes and told us to follow. We all climbed over the side of the fort, which was very much out of repair. The reserve picket was asleep around a fire which had nearly gone out. Major piloted us through the fort, actually stepping over the sleeping rebels. After getting on the outside there was a wide ditch which we went through. Ditch was partially full of water. We then went way round near the railroad again, and started south, guided by the darky, who hurried us along at a rapid gait. By near day light we were five or six miles from Savannah, and then stopped for consultation and rest. Finally went a mile further, where we are now laying low in a swamp, pretty well tired out and muddy beyond recognition. Major left us at day light, saying he would find us a guide before night who would show us still further. He had to go back and work on the forts. And so I am again loose, a free man, with the same old feeling I had when in the woods before. We got out of a thickly settled country safely, and again await developments. Heard drums and bugles playing reveille this morning in many directions, and “We are all surrounded.” David Buck is very confident of getting away to our lines. Eli thinks it is so if Dave says so, and I don't know, or care so very much. The main point with me is to stay out in the woods as long as I can. My old legs have had a hard time of it since last night and ache, and are very lame. It's another beautiful and cold day, this 13th of December. Biting frost nights, but warmer in the day time. Our plan is to work our way to the Ogechee River, and wait for the Stars and Stripes to come to us. Major said Sherman was marching right toward us all the time, driving the rebel army with no trouble at all. Told us to keep our ears open and we would hear cannon one of these days, possibly within a week. The excitement of the last twenty-four hours has worn me out, and I couldn't travel to-day if it was necessary. Have a plenty to eat, and for a wonder I ain't hungry for anything except things we haven't got. Dave is happy as an oyster, and wants to yell. Where they are so confident I am satisfied all will be well. As soon as it comes night we are going up to some negro huts less than a mile off, where we hope and expect that Major has posted the inmates in regard to us. The railroad is only a short distance off, and the river only three or four miles. As near as we know, are about twenty miles from the Atlantic coast. Tell the boys it may be necessary for me to stay here for two or three days to get recruited up, but they think three or four miles to-night will do me good. Don't like to burden them and shall try it.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 136-8

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: December 10, 1864

The grand change has come and a car load of prisoners go away from here to-day. Although the Bucks and myself were the last in prison, we are determined to flank out and go with the first that go. Our destination is probably Charleston, from what I can learn. We three will escape on the road, or make a desperate effort to do so, anyway. Can walk much better now than ten days ago, and feel equal to the emergency. Fine weather and in good spirits, although many here are tired of being moved from place to place. More guards have come to take charge of us on the road, and it looks very discouraging for getting away, & though “Dave” says we will make it all right Place great reliance in him, as he has caution as well as the intention to escape. So like Hendryx, and added to it has more practical quiet common sense. Eli Buck and myself acknowledge him as leader in all things. Now comes the tug of war.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 134-5

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: December 6, 1864

Thirteen months ago to-day captured one year and one month. Must be something due me from Uncle Sam in wages, by this time. All come in a lump when it does come. No great loss without small gain, and while I have been suffering the long imprisonment my wages have been accumulating. Believe that we are also entitled to ration money while in prison. Pile it on, you can't pay us any too much for this business. This is the land of the blood hound. Are as common as the ordinary cur at the North. Are a noble looking dog except when they are after you, and then they are beastly. Should think that any one of them could whip a man; are very large, strong, and savage looking. should think it would be hard for the negro to run away. See no horses about here at all — all mules and oxen, and even cows hitched up to draw loads. I walk the prison over forty times a day. Everybody knows me, and I hail and am hailed as I walk around, and am asked what I think of the situation. Tell them of my escape and the good time I had, which incites them to do likewise the first opportunity. Occasionally a man here who growls and grumbles, and says and thinks we will never get away, &c. Some would find fault if they were going to be hung. Should think they would compare their condition with that of six months ago and be contented.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 132-3

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: December 5, 1864

Guard said that orders were not to talk with any of the prisoners, and above all not to let us get hold of any newspapers. No citizens are allowed to come near us. That shows which way the wind blows. Half a dozen got away from here last night, and guards more strict to-day, with an increased force. Going to be moved, it is said, in a few days. Why don't they run us right into the ocean? That wouldn't do though, our gunboats are there. Well, keep us then, that is punishment enough. Do what you are a mind to. You dare not starve us now, for we would break away. In fact, although under guard, we are masters of the situation. Can see an old darky with an ox hitched to a cart with harness on, the cart loaded with sugar cane. This is quite a sugar country, it is said. On the road here saw the famous palmetto tree in groves. Live-oaks are scattered all over, and are a funny affair. Simon and pecan trees also abound here We are pretty well south now, spending the winter. But few die now; no more than would naturally die in any camp with the same numbers. It is said that some men get away every night, and it is probably so.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 132

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: November 23, 1864

In The Woods Near Doctortown Station, No. 5, Ga. — A change has come over the spirit of my dreams During the night the cars ran very slow, and sometimes stopped for hours on side tracks. A very long, tedious night, and all suffered a great deal with just about standing room only. Impossible to get any sleep. Two guards at each side door, which were open about a foot. Guards were passably decent, although strict Managed to get near the door, and during the night talked considerable with the two guards on the south side of the car. At about three o'clock this A.m., and after going over a long bridge which spanned the Altamaha River and in sight of Doctortown, I went through the open door like a flash and rolled down a high embankment. Almost broke my neck, but not quite guard fired a shot at me, but as the cars were going, though not very fast, did not hit me. Expected the cars to stop but they did not, and I had the inexpressible joy of seeing them move off out of sight. Then crossed the railroad track going north, went through a large open field and gained the woods, and am now sitting on the ground leaning up against a big pine tree and out from under rebel guard! The sun is beginning to show itself in the east and it promises to be a fine day. Hardly know what to do with myself. If those on the train notified Doctortown people of my escape they will be after me. Think it was at so early an hour that they might have gone right through without telling any one of the jump off Am happy and hungry and considerably bruised and scratched up from the escape. The happiness of being here, however, overbalances everything else. If I had George Hendryx with me now would have a jolly time, and mean to have as it is. Sun is now up and it is warmer; birds chippering around, and chipmunks looking at me with curiosity. Can hear hallooing off a mile or so, which sounds like farmers calling cattle or hogs or something. All nature smiles — why should not I? — and I do. Keep my eyes peeled, however, and look all ways for Sunday. Must work farther back toward what I take to be a swamp a mile or so away. Am in a rather low country although apparently a pretty thickly settled one; most too thickly populated for me, judging from the signs of the times It's now about dinner time, and I have traveled two or three miles from the railroad track, should judge and am in the edge of a swampy forest, although the piece of ground on which I have made my bed is dry and nice. Something to eat wouldn't be a bad thing. Not over sixty rods from where I lay is a path evidently travelled more or less by negroes going from one plantation to another. My hope of food lays by that road. Am watching for passers by. Later.— A negro boy too young to trust has gone by singing and whistling, and carrying a bundle and a tin pail evidently filled with somebody's dinner. In as much as I want to enjoy this out-door Gypsy life, I will not catch and take the dinner away from him. That would be the heighth of foolishness. Will lay for the next one traveling this way. The next one is a dog and he comes up and looks at me, gives a bark and scuds off. Can't eat a dog. Don't know how it will be to-morrow though. Might be well enough for him to come around later. Well, it is most dark and will get ready to try and sleep. Have broken off spruce boughs and made a soft bed. Have heard my father tell of sleeping on a bed of spruce, and it is healthy. Will try it. Not a crust to eat since yesterday forenoon. Am educated to this way of living though, and have been hungryer. Hope the pesky alligators will let me alone If they only knew it, I would make a poor meal for them. Thus closes my first day of freedom and it is grand. Only hope they may be many, although I can hardly hope to escape to our lines, not being in a condition to travel.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 120-2

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: May 20, 1864

Hendryx sent me in to-day from the outside a dozen small onions and some green tea  No person, on suddenly being lifted from the lowest depths of misery to peace and plenty, and all that money could buy, could feel more joyous or grateful than myself for those things. As the articles were handed in through the gate a crowd saw the transaction, and it was soon known that I had a friend on the outside who sent me in extras, I learn that a conspiracy is being gotten up on the outside, in which Hendryx is at the head, and they will try and overpower the guard and release the prisoners. If Capt. Wirtz only knew it, he has a very dangerous man in George Hendryx. cram full of adventure, he will be heard from wherever he is.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 59-60

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: April 27, 1864

Well, I was out from under rebel guard for an hour or so any way. Hurt my side though, and caught a little cold. Am sore somewhat. Have given up the idea of escaping. Think if Hendryx had been alone he would have gotten away. Is tougher than I am. A man caught stealing from one of his comrades and stabbed with a knife and killed. To show how little such things are noticed here I will give the particulars as near as I could get them. There were five or six men stopping together in a sort of shanty. Two of them were speculators, and had some money, corn bread, &c., and would not divide with their comrades, who belonged to their own company and regiment. Some time in the night one of them got up and was stealing bread from a haversack belonging to his more prosperous neighbor, and during the operation woke up the owner, who seized a knife and stabbed the poor fellow dead The one who did the murder spoke out and said: “Harry, I believe Bill is dead; he was just stealing from me and I run my knife into him.” “Good enough for him,” says Harry. The two men then got up and straightened out “Bill,” and then both lay down and went to sleep. An occupant of the hut told me these particulars and they are true. This morning poor Bill lay in the hut until eight or nine o'clock, and was then carried outside. The man who did the killing made no secret of it, but told it to all who wanted to know the particulars, who were only a few, as the occurrence was not an unusual one.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 53

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: December 26, 1863

News of exchange and no officers over from Libby to issue clothing. Extra quantity of wood. Rebels all drunk and very domineering. Punish for the smallest kind of excuse. Some men tunneled out of the pen but were retaken and were made to crawl back through the same hole they went out of and the lieutenant kept hitting them with a board as they went down and then ran back and forward from one hole to the other and as they stuck up their heads would hit them with a club, keeping them at it for nearly an hour. A large crowd of both rebels and Yankees collected around to see the fun.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 21

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Wednesday, January 22, 1862

Cold, threatening rain or snow all day.  . . . In the evening reports from Raleigh. Three of Company K, Thirtieth, and young Henderson, scout Company H, captured by the enemy. Report says no fighting except by Henderson. No other fired a gun. Rumor says they were drunk.

A great bushwhacker captured with three others. In the night bushwhacker taken with pains in his bowels — rolled over the floor, etc., etc., suddenly sprang up, seized two muskets and escaped! This is the official (false!) report. The other prisoners report that the sentinels were asleep, and the bushwhacker merely slipped out, taking two muskets with him.

Report says that three thousand milish of Mercer [County] are on or near Flat Top Mountain twenty miles from Raleigh and thirteen hundred cavalry!!

Three prisoners brought down last night. Captain McVey, a bushwhacking captain, armed with sword and rifle, was approaching a Union citizen's house to capture him, when [the] Union man, hearing of it, hid behind a log, drew a bead on Secesh as he approached, called out to him to lay down his arms, which Secesh prudently did, and thereupon the victor marched [him] to our camp at Raleigh. Another prisoner, a son of General Beckley, aged about sixteen. Why he was taken I don't understand. He carried dispatches when the militia was out under his father, but seems intelligent and well-disposed. Disliking to see one so young packed into a crowded guardhouse (thinking of Birch and Webb, too), I took him to my own quarters and shared my bed with him last night. He talked in his sleep incoherently, otherwise a good bedfellow.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 192-3

Remarkable escape of an Impressed Rebel Soldier

We find in the Syracuse Courier and Union the narrative of Francis Colehan, an escaped soldier from the rebel army at Pensacola, from which we extract:

I had a good opportunity to find out the private opinions of a great number of the soldiers, and I have no doubt there are over one hundred men at Fort Barrancas alone who were as loyal to the Union as myself.  Of course we all desired to escape from the despotism which compelled us to serve under the accursed flag.  We often cogitated plans of escape, but something would always seem to interfere with every project we formed, and we were unable to execute any of them.

On the 21st of December last, I was on guard as sentinel in charge of the 32 pounders on the beach, which were heavily loaded with grape for instant use, and could sweep the beach and water for a long distance around.  Unmindful of my duty, I very carelessly allow[ed] Timothy Conovan to spike both guns!  The spikes were short pieces of steel wire, shaped like a rat-tail file.  Connovan [sic] drove the spikes firmly down into the vents, broke them off close, and then put down the vent covers so that no one could see them.  That night we held a private council and the following persons resolved to make their escape the next day, or perish in the attempt:  Timothy Conovan, Springfield, Massachusetts; James Smith, Buffalo, New York; James Parker, Milwaukie, Wisconsin; Edward English, Baltimore, Maryland; Albert Johnson, a sailor, and myself. –

There was an old leaky boat hanging up in the rickety old shed near our quarters, and about four rods from the water.  We had previously looked upon that old boat as the means of our deliverance.  By stealth we had caulked and tarred it and made it perfectly tight and safe.  Before the break of day on the morning of the 22d of December, we crept one by one out of our quarters and silently congregated in the shed, where in darkness we held a brief council as to the disposition of the sentinel who was on duty, and who was pacing up and down the beach in front of us.  We were all well acquainted with him and were unwilling to take his life in that murderous manner although we knew he would instantly fire upon us and alarm the camp.

We concluded to pause until he turned on his beat, and when near the farther end we would make a rush for the water, and run all risks.  It [was] already seven o’clock, and daylight had begun to streak the east.  No time was to be lost.  It was life or nothing now. – The moment the sentinel turned his back we seized the boat, and swiftly and silently rushed for the water, into which we dashed the boat, and fixing the oars instantly began to glide from the soil of Dixie.  The noise of the oars arrested the attention of the sentinel.  He turned, challenged and instantly fired.  The bullet whistled harmlessly past us.  In a moment the whole camp was in a perfect state of confusion and alarm, but before they comprehended the matter we were beyond the reach of the Minnie or musket.  They resolved to give us grape, and the thirty twos were ranged upon us.  But when the captain raised the vent covers, and discovered the broken spikes, he fairly danced with rage.  We saw this, and rising in the boat pulled off our hats and gave them a wave and a cheer.

The United States troops in the fort who had witnessed the whole affair from the beginning, and when we waved our hats they gave us an enthusiastic and tremendous cheer.  As we approached the beach, hundreds of them came down to meet us, and a number rushed out into the water, seized the approaching boat, and carried it high and try upon the shore.  Before I could stir from my seat, some one slapped me on the shoulder, and looking up, I beheld Rowland Parish of (Fairmount) Geddes, an old schoolmate, now a member of the New York Seventy-fifth Volunteers from Auburn.  Right glad was I to find so quickly an old friend and neighbor.  He too had been watching us during that mile and a half row for life.

We were immediately taken before Col. Brown, who closely and rigidly questioned us.  But our statements were so plain, and we found so many old friends and acquaintances, that we were soon afterwards relieved of all suspicion.  Two days after two negroes escaped, and being interrogated by the Colonel, fully corroborated our statements.  They said that the suspicion and anger of the rebels were so great that they came near hanging two or three persons as accessories to our escape.

We stopped in the fort for the eleven days, and on the 2d of January were placed in the United States steamer Rhode Island, which arrived at Philadelphia January 18th.  The next day we sailed for New York, and landed at Fort Lafayette, where we were detained five days when an order came from Washington for our release.  We took the oath of allegiance with a hearty good will, and are once more at liberty.

– Published in The Burlington Weekly Hawk-Eye, Burlington, Iowa, Saturday, March 8, 1862, p. 2