.

On the Fourth of July, after the regular morning count, we repaired to
the big central building and held an informal celebration. One officer
had brought into captivity, concealed on his person, a little silk
national flag, which was carried up into the cross-beams of the
building, and the sight of it created the wildest enthusiasm. We cheered
the flag and applauded the patriotic speeches until a detachment of the
guard succeeded in putting a stop to our proceedings. They tried to
capture the flag, but in this they were not successful. We were informed
that cannon were planted commanding the camp, and would be opened on us
if we renewed our demonstrations.

Soon after this episode the fall of Atlanta and the subsequent movements
of General Sherman led to the breaking up of the camp at Macon, and to
the transfer of half of us to a camp at Charleston, and half to
Savannah. Late in September, by another transfer, we found ourselves
together again at Columbia. We had no form of shelter, and there was no
stockade around the camp, only a guard and a dead-line. During two hours
of each morning an extra line of guards was stationed around an
adjoining piece of pine woods, into which we were allowed to go and cut
wood and timber to construct for ourselves huts for the approaching
winter. Our ration at this time consisted of raw corn-meal and sorghum
molasses, without salt or any provision of utensils for cooking. The
camp took its name from our principal article of diet, and was by common
consent known as "Camp Sorghum." A stream of clear water was accessible
during the day by an extension of the guards, but at night the lines
were so contracted as to leave the path leading to the water outside the
guard. Lieutenant S.H.M. Byers, who had already written the well-known
lyric "Sherman's March to the Sea," was sharing my tent, which consisted
of a ragged blanket. We had been in the new camp but little more than a
week when we determined to make an attempt at escape. Preparatory to
starting we concealed two tin cups and two blankets in the pine woods to
which we had access during the chopping hours, and here was to be our
rendezvous in case we were separated in getting out. Covering my
shoulders with an old gray blanket and providing myself with a stick,
about the size of a gun, from the woodpile, I tried to smuggle myself
into the relief guard when the line was contracted at six o'clock.
Unfortunately an unexpected halt was cal