in any
way to communicate with the convicts, nor were we permitted to see any
of our relatives or friends that might come from a distance to see us,
except upon the written order of General Burnside, and then only in the
presence of a guard. Our correspondence underwent the censorship of the
warden, we receiving and he sending only such as met his approbation; we
were not permitted to have newspapers, or to receive information of what
was going on in the outside busy world.
Many plans for escape, ingenious and desperate, were suggested,
discussed, and rejected because deemed impracticable. Among them was
bribery of the guards. This was thought not feasible because of the
double set of guards, military and civil, who were jealous and watchful
of each other, so that it was never attempted, although we could have
commanded, through our friends in Kentucky and elsewhere, an almost
unlimited amount of money.
On a morning in the last days of October I was rudely treated, without
cause, by the deputy warden. There was no means of redress, and it was
not wise to seek relief by retort, since I knew, from the experience of
my comrades, that it would result in my confinement in a dark dungeon,
with bread and water for diet. I retired to my cell, and closed the door
with the determination that I would neither eat nor sleep until I had
devised some means of escape. I ate nothing and drank nothing during the
day, and by nine o'clock I had matured the plan that we carried into
execution. It may be that I owed something to the fact that I had just
completed the reading of Victor Hugo's "Les Miserables," containing such
vivid delineations of the wonderful escapes of Jean Valjean, and of the
subterranean passages of the city of Paris. This may have led me to the
line of thought that terminated in the plan of escape adopted. It was
this: I had observed that the floor of my cell was upon a level with the
ground upon the outside of the building, which was low and flat, and
also that the floor of the cell was perfectly dry and free from mold. It
occurred to me that, as the rear of the cell was to a great extent
excluded from the light and air, this dryness and freedom from mold
could not exist unless there was underneath something in the nature of
an air-chamber to prevent the dampness from rising up the walls and
through the floor. If this chamber should be found to exist, and could
be reached, a tunnel might be run through the foundatio
|