The few lines below, written by him, to please a child, show the freshness of a heart, that had experienced the vicissitudes of life for half a century:

er.

"LU LU.

"Sweet Lu Lu, your papa to-day
Tells me, I must indite a lay.
The subject of this short narration,
To be my name, and rank, and station.
So pretty Lu Lu, here I go,

To tell you almost all I know:

First for my name-stop, here's a blunder,

To find out that: you must look under
Where 'tis written in this way,

First Lieutenant, C. S. A.

And if you'd know a little more,

Why place me in the artillery corps.

Pray, now dear Lu Lu, don't you laugh,

This truly is my autograph;

That ruby lip-nay, do not pout it,

I'm sure I've told you all about it.

And now I really am quite fervent,
In subscribing myself "devoted servant,"
One of the unfortunate men,
Captured with pa, at Island Ten.

Our Generals at Island 10, General Stewart came and left; Generals Trudeau, McCown and Walker did the same. General Mackall came and took us with him (to prison.) Acting Brigadiers Alexander J. Brown, of Tennessee, a gentleman, and soldier; and Colonel Gaunt, of Arkansas. The officers of my brigade were Alpheus Baker, of Alabama, a nervous, rash officer, with personal courage, generous disposition, but an indiscreet commandLieutenant Colonel W. T. Avery. I allude to Avery in another scrap, yet consider him entitled to a notice in Colonel Avery was a member of Congress from the Tenth Congressional district of Tennessee, was a prominent member of the House, having made the leading speech in support of the Administration, in the spring of 1860. Colonel Avery is not a tactician, but makes up in dash his deficiency in drill. There were no braver men in the army than Tom. Avery. His failure to advance in the line of promotion was his indisposition to sue for favors justly due him. Colonel Charles C. Henderson, command

two.

ed the 40th Tennessee. Henderson was socially a gentleman, yet tyrannical and unpopular with his command. Major Higgins, of the Fortieth, is an old veteran, having served through the Mexican war with much credit, is of pleasant address, and is one of the best officers in the division, highly respected by the entire command. Major Cansler, of my regiment, while endowed with personal courage, was not a disciplinarian or thorough tactician, yet made a pretty fair officer.

We give a synopsis of the evacuation and surrender: Sunday, April the 6th, 1862, we move from the front of the island, (as we were informed,) for the purpose of repelling an attack of the enemy, were halted at midnight, marched again the next day, lay in the mud all night in Reelfoot Lake swamp, and were notified on the morning of the 8th, that we were surrendered prisoners of war. While half buried in the mud and water, we were cheered by the presence of Captain Johnson, and Lieutenants John Kirk and Robert Malone, of Tennessee, whose gallantry was of no avail, as the passing gun-boat had annihilated their battery. The only escape of importance was Captain Wheeler, with his company of cavalry. The effective force surrendered was eighteen hundred (1800) infantry, the Point Coupe artillery, consisting of five brass pieces, commanded by that splendid officer, Captain Thompson, with his two chivalric and gentlemanly Lieutenants, D'Aubizne and Legendre.

After the surrender, we were detained at Tiptonville twenty-four hours in a drenching rain, barely anything to eat, and as most of us had eat nothing for two days, and had been marching and lying in the rain and mud without shelter of any kind, we were in a miserable plight. I will ever feel grateful to Captain Sterling, of the Twentysecond Illinois, Captain Lathrop, of Cincinnati, Captain Crittenden, of the cavalry, who accompanied us to Camp Chase, and who, with the officers above mentioned, were marked by kind and considerate treatment towards their prisoners. Captain Steiner, of balloon notoriety, and his amiable lady, of Philadelphia, are remembered for their courtesy to the writer. Major Nixon, of Ohio, who had

charge of us from Tiptonville to Columbus, Ohio, while true to his flag, was one of the most humane men and perfect gentlemen I ever met. We were placed on board the "Emma," carried to New Madrid; thence to Cairo and to Camp Chase. To sum up, we were sacrificed not by General Mackall, but by the government, for the purpose of holding in check the column of General Pope, to prevent his uniting with Halleck; for had the gun-boats passed ten days before, the morale of our army at Shiloh would have been destroyed; hence, in justice to General Mackall, we assert positively, that he was in no way responsible for the surrender.

We have omitted the floating battery in our mention of the guns. This impromptu affair was commanded by Captain Averitt, formerly of the United States Navy, an officer of nerve and intelligence. He had four guns. This, with the battery of the Southern Guards, and the five brass pieces of the Point Coupe Artillery, two small mortars, more ornamental than otherwise, make a grand total of fifty-three guns, the great portion of which were of light metal. The enemy report the capture of one hundred and twenty. We surrendered not exceeding twenty-six hundred men; the enemy report seven thousand. They publish the capture of seven generals; we had one, and two acting brigadiers. If there is any glory in such a capture, the bombastic Pope is welcome to it.

The above is furnished as, a refutation of the many falsehoods that paid and partial historians are flooding the country with, and in hopes that the impartial historian will discriminate between the official report of a General who never won a battle, and the statement of the writer that will be endorsed by two hundred confederate officers captured at Island 10.

CHAPTER III.

THE AUTHOR PROVES HIMSELF SOMEBODY TO HIS OWN SATISFACTION. -PHILOSOPHICAL TRUTHS.-GREEK SHIP JERUSALEM.-FORTUNE TELLING.-OUR CUSTODIANS, MAJOR PIERSON AND OTHERS.-COLONEL BATTEL AND THE YANKEE PARSON ELY AND HIS BOOK.COLONEL MOODY OF CAMP CHASE.-AN AGED MOTHER AND HER SON. OUR BATHING FACILITIES.-THE POWER OF FORCES AND POLITICAL PERSONALITIES.-CLEMENS, OF TENNESSEE.-HARRIS, OF MARYLAND.—CRITTENDEN, OF KENTUCKY.-HORACE L. DAY, OF NEW YORK, AND OTHERS.

WH

HO am I? a prisoner of hope? No, of war, not of "Chillon" or of "Ham," but of Johnson's island, three miles from Sandusky City, in the beautiful bay of Sandusky, the placid child of that angry mother, Lake Erie, and here I expect to remain, at least until I finish my story, as I am not a Leander, certainly too moral for a Byron, and Sandusky bay is wider and fiercer than Hellespont. How came I here? I answer ala "Clive" Pecavi. I have scinde (sinned). Why did I? I don't know. It may be because the sins of the fathers are visited upon their children, even unto the third and fourth generations, and this is my second or third, I don't remember which. Feeling informs me "I was brought here by certain officials, y'clept Federal officers." Judgment says, the law, evidence and fact was a strong incentive to the motive power that "boosted" "ye humble historian," and transferred him from Southern heather to the turf of not Yankee-doodledom, but the terra firma of the mighty West, the future base of the balance of power of the broad domain of the Continent of America, and as the equity of my case is in the military court, with a packed jury, I am condemned de facto, but not de jure.

In introducing myself so unceremoniously to my readers, I will endeavor in a short chapter, to make myself presentable, as a caterer to the literary tastes of our prison-pen, by drawing on my ancestry for present prestige, not that my grandfather was a wonderful man, but it is necessary in the chain, as proof of my existence. "It is a wise child that knows its father," it is a much much wiser one that knows its grandfather. My grandfather, on my mother's side, was one of the largest planters of St. Domingo, having emigrated to Cape Francis, his town residence, from Nantz, in France. 'Twas a lovely spot of fruits and flowers, and balmy air, whose exhalations were as ecstatic as the soothing charms of hasheesh, or the opium of D'Quincy, whose sweet debility was enervating and charmingly relaxing, making the limbs flexible, the passions volatile, the physical seductive, all was warmth and electricity. Humanity flourished at St. Domingo like some rare exotic on the banks of the Ganges, rich, luxuriant, tender and short-lived, such was the home of my grandfather. For more evidences of the beauties of this boquet of earthly delights, read the works of Harriet Martineau, that fanatical, bold and impassioned writer.

The French Revolution sowed the seeds of disease in the body politic of this colonial dependence of "La belle" France, that eventually established social principles, which sapped the virtue of the Island. Martial rights were disregarded, and the more congenial custom of placieing a connection of the sexes during compatability. A creation of the Indies was adopted. The Creoles who placied with the women of the Island, many of whom were beautiful, sent their offspring in many instances to France, where they were educated, by which their crude ideas of liberty were directed to a radical change of the peculiar institution of their island home. This inoculation of new ideas of freedom developed sad results, a sharpening of the knife whose edge was destined to cut morally, socially, and politically, resulting in the loss to my grandfather, of all his property, and the massacre of all his relatives, save his wife and two children, with whom he