Bill practiced largely upon their credulity, and when he desired a little "contraband" fun, he would go to the window, which was always crowded outside with "secesh," and cry out: "What will you have?”

"We want to see a Yankee," they frequently answered.

'Well, now you see me, and what do you think of us?"

"What are you 'uns all down here fighting we 'uns fur?

Bill would reply: "For a hundred and sixty acres of land and your negroes."

"Calico Bill" was a genuine, shrewd and intelligent. Yankee, from the State of Maine. He gave me a sketch of his history, in which I learned that he was teaching in a private family in Florida, when the war broke out, was pressed into the Confederate service, and had quarreled with his captain, who undertook to exercise an authority over him, incompatible with his native freedom. He said he would rather meet his fate there than to die in the rebel army. He said there were many Northern men in their army, and that three-fourths of them would vote for the old banner and Constitution, if uninfluenced by their leaders. "But," he added, "you see how this fellow does" (refer

ring to the man he had been drilling); "and there are thousands in their army just as ignorant as he."

When he went for a bucket of water, he would call out, "Come on, about thirty or forty of you infernal rebels, and go with me after some water!"

In this way he would drill these guards, so that those on the outside thought him a Federal, while those on the inside believed him to be a rebel officer.

In the rear of the warehouse was a countingroom; and the entire prison could boast but one bed, for which I, being the only officer, got the preference. It consisted of an old coffeesack, filled with "body-guards," and I reluctantly accepted its use.

While standing near the door, two men came in who were dressed in Federal uniforms. They came to me and asked me if I was a Federal officer.

"No," said I, "not now; but I was a few days ago. I am a prisoner now."

In conversation with them, I ascertained that they were northern men, but, being in the South when the war broke out, were pressed, like thousands of others, into the rebel army. At the battle of Belmont, they deserted and

joined the Fourth United States Cavalry, but were afterwards taken prisoners at Shiloh, and had been recognized as deserters. That day they had had their trial before General Bragg, who sentenced them to be shot on the following Tuesday. I at once became interested in their escape; and, forgetting my wounded and painful hand, and the disagreeableness of my situation, I pondered the fate of these men late into that dismal night. On the evening of the same day, a piece of file and a knife had been found upon a shelf in the prison. We converted the knife into a saw, and with this sawed off one of the planks of the floor, thereby making an aperture sufficient to permit a man to pass through. By this means, these two men, in company with "Calico Bill," made their escape. The hole I afterwards carefully concealed by placing the bed over it. We had agreed with the Tennesseeans that they should answer to the names of the escaped prisoners when the rebel officer came to the door to call the roll of the inmates of the prison. This they continued to do until Monday, at which time I was taken to Columbus, Mississippi.

We had only one meal of victuals during the forty-eight hours we remained in the prison, and there were quite a number of men there

who did not get anything to eat. But for this we had some apology, in the fact that the armies were fighting very near us, and about all these rebels could do was to lie and boast about their success on the previous evening. They brought us the news that our whole army had been captured, that they had got between our forces and the river, and had taken twenty-seven thousand prisoners, and that the remainder of the army had been driven to the gunboats. So incredible and exaggerated were their reports, that when they afterward informed us of the capture of Prentiss and his division, we placed no confidence whatever in the story. On Sunday, at three o'clock, the Texan Rangers came in greatly decimated, themselves declaring that they had been cut to pieces by our sharpshooters.

CHAPTER III.

Taken to Columbus, Mississippi-Visit from the ClergyAn Enthusiastic Mute-American Aristocracy-Secession Lies-Political and Ecclesiastical Prisoners-Reflections.

ON Monday morning, at ten o'clock, a part of the prisoners left Corinth, for Columbus, Mississippi. Wherever the cars stopped, the wildest excitement prevailed.

"How goes the day?" was the constant inquiry.

We were exhibited as some of the trophies of the battle. That the people were somewhat divided, could easily be perceived from their countenances. On the evening of the same day, we arrived at Columbus, and there we were placed under a heavy guard, in an old warehouse; but the ex-Governor of Mississippi came to the prison, and took us to the hotel, where we enjoyed supper at his expense. There the crowd gathered round us as though we were some mammoth traveling menagerie, while our hostess kept commenting so earnestly upon our handsome appearance, that, in spite of my longitudinal neck and limbs, I began to