The jailor, Swims, was a character, and merits a particular description. He was an old man--perhaps sixty. His hair, which was very abundant, was white as snow, and his face had a dry and withered expression. His voice was always keyed on a whining tone, except when some great cause, such as the demand of prisoners for an extra bucket of water, excited him, and then it rose to a hoarse scream. Avarice was his predominant, almost his only, characteristic. He seemed to think his accommodations were vastly too good for negroes and Yankees, and that when they were admitted within his precincts, they should be thankful, and give as little trouble as possible. With such notions, it was not wonderful that he managed to make the lot of the prisoner an uncomfortable one. In addition to this, he was very fond of a dram, and frequently became sufficiently intoxicated to reveal many important matters that we would not otherwise have learned. He bustled to the gate, growling all the time about being troubled so much, unlocked it, and admitting us, led us up the outside stairway, and then into the upper room. I now saw why the General called the place a "hole," and truly I thought the name was appropriate. It was only thirteen feet square, destitute of every convenience, without chairs, beds, or anything of the kind. There were in it five or six old, miserable-looking men, who had not been washed for months. The place looked hard to me, and I shuddered at the idea of taking up my abode in such a den. But I soon found that I was not to enjoy that luxury. Said the jailor to the captain, "Where shall I put him?" "Below, of course," was the reply. The jailor then advanced to the middle of the floor, and taking a large key from his pocket, knelt down and unlocked two rusty locks; then, with a great effort, raised a ponderous trap-door just at my feet. The hot air and the stifling stench smote me back, but the bayonets of the guards were just behind, and I was compelled to move forward again. A long ladder was next thrust down through the trap-door, and the inmates warned to stand from under. A mingled volley of cries, oaths, and questions ascended, and the ladder was secured. The captain then ordered me to descend into what seemed more like Pandemonium than any place on earth. Down I went into the cimmerian gloom--clambering step by step to a depth of fully thirteen feet; for the place, as I afterwards learned, when I had more leisure for observation, was a cube, just thirteen feet each way. I stepped off the ladder, treading on human beings I could not discern, and crowding in as best I might. [Illustration: "Down I went into the cimmerian gloom--clambering step by step to a depth of fully thirteen feet."--Page 129.]