andersonville-第33章

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rebellionwas　designated　by　the　most　opprobrious　epithets　at　the
speaker's　command。

To　get　from　the　latter　to　the　former　was　to　attain；　at　one　bound；　the
highest　good。　　Better　to　be　a　doorkeeper　in　the　House　of　the　Lord；　under
the　Stars　and　Stripes；　than　to　dwell　in　the　tents　of　wickedness；　under
the　hateful　Southern　Cross。

To　take　even　the　humblest　and　hardest　of　service　in　the　field　now　would
be　a　delightsome　change。　　We　did　not　ask　to　go　homewe　would　be　content
with　anything；　so　long　as　it　was　in　that　blest　place　〃within　our　lines。〃
Only　let　us　get　back　once；　and　there　would　be　no　more　grumbling　at
rations　or　guard　dutywe　would　willingly　endure　all　the　hardships　and
privations　that　soldier　flesh　is　heir　to。

There　were　two　ways　of　getting　backescape　and　exchange。　　Exchange　was
like　the　ever　receding　mirage　of　the　desert；　that　lures　the　thirsty
traveler　on　over　the　parched　sands；　with　illusions　of　refreshing　springs；
only　to　leave　his　bones　at　last　to　whiten　by　the　side　of　those　of　his
unremembered　predecessors。　　Every　day　there　came　something　to　build　up
the　hopes　that　exchange　was　near　at　handevery　day　brought　something　to
extinguish　the　hopes　of　the　preceding　one。　　We　took　these　varying　phases
according　to　our　several　temperaments。　　The　sanguine　built　themselves　up
on　the　encouraging　reports；　the　desponding　sank　down　and　died　under　the
discouraging　ones。

Escape　was　a　perpetual　allurement。　　To　the　actively　inclined　among　us　it
seemed　always　possible；　and　daring；　busy　brains　were　indefatigable　in
concocting　schemes　for　it。　　The　only　bit　of　Rebel　brain　work　that　I　ever
saw　for　which　I　did　not　feel　contempt　was　the　perfect　precautions　taken
to　prevent　our　escape。　　This　is　shown　by　the　fact　that；　although；　from
first　to　last；　there　were　nearly　fifty　thousand　prisoners　in
Andersonville；　and　three　out　of　every　five　of　these　were　ever　on　the
alert　to　take　French　leave　of　their　captors；　only　three　hundred　and
twenty…eight　succeeded　in　getting　so　far　away　from　Andersonville　as　to
leave　it　to　be　presumed　that　they　had　reached　our　lines。

The　first；　and　almost　superhuman　difficulty　was　to　get　outside　the
Stockade。　　It　was　simply　impossible　to　scale　it。　　The　guards　were　too
close　together　to　allow　an　instant's　hope　to　the　most　sanguine；　that　he
could　even　pass　the　Dead　Line　without　being　shot　by　some　one　of　them。
This　same　closeness　prevented　any　hope　of　bribing　them。　　To　be　successful
half　those　on　post　would　have　to　be　bribed；　as　every　part　of　the　Stockade
was　clearly　visible　from　every　other　part；　and　there　was　no　night　so　dark
as　not　to　allow　a　plain　view　to　a　number　of　guards　of　the　dark　figure
outlined　against　the　light　colored　logs　of　any　Yankee　who　should　essay　to
clamber　towards　the　top　of　the　palisades。

The　gates　were　so　carefully　guarded　every　time　they　were　opened　as　to
preclude　hope　of　slipping　out　through　theme。　　They　were　only　unclosed
twice　or　thrice　a　dayonce　to　admit；　the　men　to　call　the　roll；　once　to
let　them　out　again；　once　to　let　the　wagons　come　in　with　rations；　and
once；　perhaps；　to　admit；　new　prisoners。　　At　all　these　times　every
precaution　was　taken　to　prevent　any　one　getting　out　surreptitiously。

This　narrowed　down　the　possibilities　of　passing　the　limits　of　the　pen
alive；　to　tunneling。　　This　was　also　surrounded　by　almost　insuperable
difficulties。　　First；　it　required　not　less　than　fifty　feet　of
subterranean　excavation　to　get　out；　which　was　an　enormous　work　with　our
limited　means。　　Then　the　logs　forming　the　Stockade　were　set　in　the　ground
to　a　depth　of　five　feet；　and　the　tunnel　had　to　go　down　beneath　them。
They　had　an　unpleasant　habit　of　dropping　down　into　the　burrow　under　them。
It　added　much　to　the　discouragements　of　tunneling　to　think　of　one　of
these　massive　timbers　dropping　upon　a　fellow　as　he　worked　his　mole…like
way　under　it；　and　either　crushing　him　to　death　outright；　or　pinning　him
there　to　die　of　suffocation　or　hunger。

In　one　instance；　in　a　tunnel　near　me；　but　in　which　I　was　not　interested；
the　log　slipped　down　after　the　digger　had　got　out　beyond　it。
He　immediately　began　digging　for　the　surface；　for　life；　and　was
fortunately　able　to　break　through　before　he　suffocated。　　He　got　his　head
above　the　ground；　and　then　fainted。　　The　guard　outside　saw　him；　pulled
him　out　of　the　hole；　and　when　he　recovered　sensibility　hurried　him　back
into　the　Stockade。

In　another　tunnel；　also　near　us；　a　broad…shouldered　German；　of　the　Second
Minnesota；　went　in　to　take　his　turn　at　digging。　　He　was　so　much　larger
than　any　of　his　predecessors　that　he　stuck　fast　in　a　narrow　part；　and
despite　all　the　efforts　of　himself　and　comrades；　it　was　found　impossible
to　move　him　one　way　or　the　other。　　The　comrades　were　at　last　reduced　to
the　humiliation　of　informing　the　Officer　of　the　Guard　of　their　tunnel　and
the　condition　of　their　friend；　and　of　asking　assistance　to　release　him；
which　was　given。

The　great　tunneling　tool　was　the　indispensable　half…canteen。　　The
inventive　genius　of　our　people；　stimulated　by　the　war；　produced　nothing
for　the　comfort　and　effectiveness　of　the　soldier　equal　in　usefulness　to
this　humble　and　unrecognized　utensil。　　It　will　be　remembered　that　a
canteen　was　composed　of　two　pieces　of　tin　struck　up　into　the　shape　of
saucers；　and　soldered　together　at　the　edges。　　After　a　soldier　had　been　in
the　field　a　little　while；　and　thrown　away　or　lost　the　curious　and
complicated　kitchen　furniture　he　started　out　with；　he　found　that　by
melting　the　halves　of　his　canteen　apart；　he　had　a　vessel　much　handier　in
every　way　than　any　he　had　parted　with。　　It　could　be　used　for　anything
to　make　soup　or　coffee　in；　bake　bread；　brown　coffee；　stew　vegetables；
etc。；　etc。　　A　sufficient　handle　was　made　with　a　split　stick。　　When　the
cooking　was　done；　the　handle　was　thrown　away；　and　the　half　canteen
slipped　out　of　the　road　into　the　haversack。　　There　seemed　to　be　no　end　of
the　uses　to　which　this　ever…ready　disk　of　blackened　sheet　iron　could　be
turned。　　Several　instances　are　on　record　where　infantry　regiments；　with
no　other　tools　than　this；　covered　themselves　on　the　field　with　quite
respectable　rifle　pits。

The　starting　point　of　a　tunnel　was　always　some　tent　close　to　the　Dead
Line；　and　sufficiently　well　closed　to　screen　the　operations　from　the
sight　of　the　guards　near　by。　　The　party　engaged　in　the　work　organized　by
giving　every　man　a　number　to　secure　the　proper　apportionment　of　the
labor。　　Number　One　began　digging　with　his　half　canteen。　　After　he　had
worked　until　tired；　he　came　out；　and　Number　Two　took　his　place；　and　so
on。　　The　tunnel　was　simply　a　round；　rat…like　burrow；　a　little　larger　than
a　man's　body。　　The　digger　lay　on　his　stomach；　dug　ahead　of　him；　threw　the
dirt　under　him；　and　worked　it　back　with　his　feet　till　the　man　behind　him；
also　lying　on　his　stomach；　could　catch　it　and　work　it　back　to　the　next。
As　the　tunnel　lengthened　the　number　of　men　behind　each　other　in　this　way
had　to　be　increased；　so　that　in　a　tunnel　seventy…five　feet　long　there
would　be　from　eight　to　ten　men　lying　one　behind　the　other。　　When　the　dirt
was　pushed　back　to　the　mouth　of　the　tunnel　it　was　taken　up　in　improvised
bags；　made　by　tying　up　the　bottoms　of　pantaloon　legs；　carried　to　the
Swamp；　and　emptied。　　The　work　in　the　tunnel　was　very　exhausting；　and　the
digger　had　to　be　relieved　every　half…hour。

The　greatest　trouble　was　to　carry　the　tunnel　forward　in　a　straight　line。
As　nearly　everybody　dug　most　of　the　time　with　the　right　hand；　there　was
an　almost　irresistible　tendency　to　make　the　course　veer　to　the　left。　　The
first　tunnel　I　was　connected　with　was　a　ludicrous　illustration　of　this。
About　twenty　of　us　had　devoted　our　nights　for　over　a　week　to　the
prolongation　of　a　burrow。　　We　had　not　yet　reached　the　Stockade；　which
astonished　us；　as　measurement　with　a　string　showed　that　we　had　gone
nearly　twice　the　distance　necessary　for　the　purpose。　　The　thing　was
inexplicable；　and　we　ceased　operations　to　consider　the　matter。　　The　next
day　a　man　walking　by　a　tent　some　little　distance　from　the　one　in　which
the　hole　began；　was　badly　startled　by　the　ground　giving　way　under　his
feet；　and　his　sinking　nearly　to　his　waist　in　a　hole。　　It　was　very
singular；　but　after　wondering　ove