A Soldier's Experience in Southern Prisons: A Graphic Description of the Author's Experiences in Various Southern Prisons — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
A Soldier's Experience in Southern Prisons: A Graphic Description of the Author's Experiences in Various Southern Prisons
John Stuart Mill · en
I was not satisfied, however, and was continually watching for a chance
to escape. Finally a long, drizzling rain came on and the colonel gave
a number of paroles to some favored, to go out and get limbs, poles and
boughs, with which to fix up their quarters, (if you could call their
dug-outs quarters). This squad was only allowed to carry its luggage
to the guards' beat, throw it over, then return to the woods for more.
Then another party was permitted to go out over the dead line, get the
truck and carry it back to quarters. I watched them for some time and
noticed that the guard did not seem to be very particular about the
mingling of those on the outside of the beat. The next time the squad
came from the woods I walked out, gathered up an armful of the stuff,
returned with the others, and carried the armful to their dug-out. I
then waited until they came again, and deliberately walked out with
those who went to the timber, the ones who had been paroled for the
purpose. I was now outside of the prison in open woods, in plain sight
of the pasture and only about three o'clock in the afternoon. This was
to be the last trip of the paroled men, so I crawled under the top of
a tree, which they had left partly trimmed, and got the men to cover
me over with boughs and limbs sufficient to conceal my view from "Camp
Sorghum," and there I had to lie on the cold, wet earth, without daring
to move, until night.
Night came and the rain still poured down in torrents. I could easily
see what few lights were visible in camp and, as I crawled out, turned
my back upon these. It was so dark that I had to feel my way, and as I
had my back to the camp I had nothing but the sense of feeling to guide
my footsteps; but as I supposed the long looked for time had come and
I was on my way to liberty, my way seemed easy, and my hopes beat high
with a desire to reach the Union lines, somewhere in East Tennessee.
In the course of a couple of hours I found an old road which I could
follow by means of the small puddles of water that were lying at
intervals all along. Then I began to lengthen the distance between
myself and camp as fast as my poor, weak limbs and empty stomach would
permit.