CHAPTER V.

EXCURSION ala AFRICANA.—ANNIVERSARY.-EMANCIPATION IN WEST INDIES.-FUNERAL IN PRISON.-THE DEAD LINE.-PETTY MALICE. -REGULATIONS OF THE PRISON.-LONDON PHILOSOPHY.-INCIDENT OF BALAKLAVA, BY A PRISONER.-DEATHS IN PRISON.— POETS AND POETRY.-THE WRECK. THE LAKE STEAMER.—THE ROLL-CALLER OF OUR MESS.-ST. CLAIR MORGAN, OF TENNESSEE. -OUR BUSINESS AFFAIRS.-GENERAL JEFF. THOMPSON.-GRAPEVINE LINE.-GOOD NEWS.-MAN A CREATURE OF HABIT.-OUR MILK MAN.-JACK HANDY.-OUR POST SURGEON.-CONFEDERATE SURGEONS.-PROMENADE REFLECTIONS.-NEW ARRIVAL.

WE were male aw, front a passing steamer, that some

E were made aware, to-day, by the odor borne upon

thing unusual was agitating the atmosphere, on inspection with an opera glass, exhibited a motly grouping of black kinks and ugly specimens of the "pale face," something like the display of currants in a plum cake. 'Tis true

that all the extracts of Lubin, Bazin, and Phalon's rarest compounds, were scenting the air, yet the sweet perfume of Afric's fairest flowers expressed through their excretories, annihilated all opposition, leaving the smell of 'Nigger" triumphant, as they passed the island, the wool of Nigger kinked tighter, the sleek face shone sleeker, and the scent rose stronger, and Nigger was Nigger, at least for one day, in Sandusky bay. They had a band that discoursed Yankee Doodle, they waved highly scented handkerchiefs, and passing slowly out of sight, leaving us to our reflections. The Federals have Cuffee, they are welcome to him and his exhalations, there is no legislation, or social regulation, that will change the African, or his descent. Nigger will be

Nigger, the world over; he is destined to fill the positions of boot black and scullion, and at any intellectual employment, he is at sea. He cannot comprehend intellectual effort and how the professional can ride in his carriage, without exhibiting any physical attempt to earn his wealth, is a mystery, and arouses within him, that radical Abolition emotion, "Down with the indolent aristocracy," not willing to accord to them the credit of the years of intellectual toil employed, to attain the position that alone can fit them, for the walks of their calling. The line of demarkation, has been drawn by nature, between white and black society, and is as impassible as a gulf of fire. Northern Negro philanthropy is reaping its reward, and like the man who won the elephant, they have got Cuffee, now what will they do with him? The boat is out of sight, with its freight of sables, who are suffering from both friend and foe. Alas! poor African, an object of pity and commiseration, thou mayest well exclaim, "Save me from my (so called) friends."

A funeral at sea is a melancholy spectacle, the gloomy looks of the crew, the dejected air of the passengers, and the agonized expression of weeping relatives seem to fill the imagination with all that is distressing and heartrending, yet the freshness of the ocean breeze, new scenes, the excitements of storm, and "sail ho!" with the whirl of life midst the hundreds on shipboard, softens, if not efaces, death's shadows at sea. 'Tis not so in prison, the soldier dies and is confined in a common pine coffin, a little wagon is sent in, that is daily used by the sutler, the coffin placed in it, the driver cracks his whip, as if his animal had stalled with a load of wood, and the vehicle rattles over the ruts and clods of the campus. To-day we buried poor Hodges. He was from Memphis, Tennesee, and died from a wound received from a copper ball from a Mexican escopet, while acting gallantly in Mexico, which the irritation of his imprisonment, added to a fall, caused to break out afresh, resulting in death. The death of Captain Hodges has been alluded to in another "scrap," yet mention is made in this connection, as addi

tional evidence of the inhumanity of our custodians, his friends requested to attend his funeral, but were denied, the reply, as mentioned previous, being, that none, excepting those belonging to his regiment, could attend his funeral. We were not of the number, and the torturing Pierson let his cartman drive out the body, without the attendance of his friends, an unheard-of barbarity, for which there is no excuse. It was a sad sight to see all that remained of our friend driven out, like the carcass of some dumb brute, and buried without the ministration of friends, all of this under the eye of that eagle whose wings are supposed to enfold the "best government the world ever saw," with the most damnable representatives. Pierson's trestle board is discolored by dark and treacherous spots, and how he can serenely stand beneath the arch, without viewing it as the sword of Damocles, is beyond the comprehension of a pillar of the arch, but his temple will be one of Babel, and not of Solomon, as his moral tools are rusty, and as "he soweth, so shall he also reap.'

Thirty feet from the wall around the entire prison, is an imaginary line, called the dead-line, yet on one side the sinks are not ten feet from the wall, and it was while going to his quarters from one of them, that Captain Meadows was shot down, an account of which is given in another "scrap." To step across this line is death, a heavy penalty for a slight offence. Genghis Khan, or Timour could not have been more severe; only the sack or bowstring is more revolting to the feelings, and is not as prompt as a quietus, as the old " Springfield," with its charge doubled, and the finger of its merciless (because cowardly) owner upon a trigger, itching to respond to the call of the sentinel sheart, that secure in its home-guard battalion, burns, to gloat over the murder of a rebel. the war continues, and we are held in durance, we may have yet to choose between the "gnout," "bastinado,”* or ropes end," for slight direlections, and between the garote, gallows, or musket, for graver ones.

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If

*They are now whipping negroes in the free State of Illinois, (see scrap), and why not apply the lash to white men, which they will surely do, if fanaticism triumphs in the present struggle.

Captain J. P. Colwell, Captains Cary and F. A. Rogers, with Lieutenant Josiah Joplin ;† these four officers were notified this morning, that they would not be exchanged. They were gentlemen, and influential citizens at home before the war, and have served their flag faithfully since. They had made ready, anticipating the call of their names, when an official announced they would be detained. It is difficult to imagine the feeling of despondency felt by them, as eleven hundred of their fellow prisoners filed out of prison, into the free air beyond the walls. Each heart beat in sympathy with them, but we could do nothing but surmise as to the cause of their detention, they had been the most quiet and orderly soldiers in prison, men of education and refinement, and true Confederates. Old Pierson is up to some Devilment, and we would not be surprised, if our Missouri friends don't suffer many hardships in addition to those already endured. Every device is used to annoy gentlemen, by the curs in charge of us, the ingenuity of the Devil is invoked to create disappointments for us, and to see if we cannot be killed by worry, and the mental tortures, to which we are daily subjected. "Curses, like chickens,. come home to roost," and when the finale comes, Pierson will be as thoroughly sifted, as the article connected with him in our note.

In connection, we append the following from Captain F. A. Rogers, of Coalbank, Cooper county, Missouri, whose veracity and integrity, none will question.

"After our exchange, December 15, 1862, two and a half months after your release, Joplin and myself went to Richmond, Virginia, and there for the first time learned from Mr. Seddon, Secretary of War, that I was a bushwhacker, bridge-burner, and out-law, and that Joplin was accused of holding a commission under the United States government, and at the same time serving in the Confederate States Army. The truth is, it was all a lie, and

*Captain F. A. Rogers, Coalbank, Cooper county, Missouri. Joplin resides in Myrtle Springs, Bowie county, Texas.

The paragraph in relation to Captain Rogers, received since the war, is inserted for uniformity rather than noted.

only a pretext to hold us, to please some good Union man or personal enemy. Old sand sifter, had still a hankering after the almighty dollar, after you left, and at the time I left the island, he confiscated ten dollars, all the money I had, and positively refused to give it up; also some clothing, sent me by my friends in Baltimore. All the money passed through Pierson's hands, and he invariably retained a portion at the time. As to Pierson, I think a more contemptible scoundrel never breathed than that wretch. Captain Clarkson died in Texas, in the Fall of 1863. He was never well after his exchange, he was a noble man, and killed by long confinement on Johnson's Island."

Regulations of the United States Military Prison, at Johnson's Island.

HEAD-QUARTERS HOFFMAN'S BATTALION, DEPARTMENT OF PRISONERS OF WAR, NEAR SANDUSKY, OHIO,

March 1, 1862. "Order No. 1.-It is designed to treat prisoners of war with all the kindness compatible with their condition, and to other ends, as few orders as possible will be issued respecting them, and their own comfort will be chiefly secured, by prompt and implicit obedience."

"Order No. 2.-The quarters have been erected at great expense, by the government, for the comfort of prisoners of war, the utmost caution should be used against fire, as in case of their destruction, the prisoners will be subjected to much exposure and suffering, for want of comfortable quarters, as others will not be erected, and rude shelter only provided."

"Order No. 3.-All prisoners are required to parade in their rooms, and answer to their names, half an hour after reveille, and at retreat.”

"Order No. 4.-Meals will be taken at breakfast drum, dinner drum, and half an hour before retreat." "Order No. 5.-Quarters must be thoroughly policed by 10 o'clock, in the morning."

"Order No. 6.-All prisoners will be required to remain