Berry Benson's Civil War Book: Memoirs of a Confederate Scout and Sharpshooter

VI: Elmira Prison

Elmira Prison TRANSFERRED TO ELMIRA — PLANS FOR ESCAPE — LIFE IN A YANKEE PRISON — THE TUNNELERS — ESCAPE FROM ELMIRA WE were put on board a train of freight cars, with a guard in each car—maybe two—and guards on top of the cars. I had made up my mind to seize the first chance I had to jump from the cars, but decided to wait for night decreasing the chance not only of being shot by the guards but also of re-capture. In Baltimore, we were marched through the city. I remember very well passing by the Cathedral, along Cathedral St. While waiting in the depot, the citizens crowded upon us very close, looking at us with great interest, and, I thought, with sympathy. Once or twice my heart was in my mouth as a chance seemed about to be offered of slipping out amongst them, but the guards always drove them back too soon. During the journey, one of Mosby's men escaped, so I heard, by cutting a hole in the side of the car. The noise of the train prevented the guard from hearing, and other prisoners stood or sat around to hide him at his work. It was intended that others should follow, but the hole was discovered just after he had got out. When night came on, I took a place by the door, and waited, hoping the guard would drop off to sleep. Then just when I had resolved to jump anyhow, the car shot past some large rocks many feet below in a ravine, on which I would have met instant death. And so, always deterred by one 126 6 E L M I R A P R I S O N 1 2 7 thing or another, I let the whole night go by. I certainly must have been unusually devoid of courage that night, and I have always been ashamed of it. Reaching Elmira, Sunday, July 24th, we were marched through the streets to the outer edge of the town, where stood the prison, it being a camp like Point Lookout, with the same kind of wooden fence around it. Before getting inside the prison, I marked one object which seemed to promise a hope of escape. This was a large tree—I think a walnut—which grew in one corner, throwing its limbs out beyond the prison walls. Climbing it some dark night, one might go out on a limb and drop to the ground. Outside, near the entrance gate, were the guards' quarters—plain pine houses. Inside, we were drawn up and the roll called, then assigned to our quarters, Baxter, Atkinson and I being assigned to the same long room with bunks fitted up on both sides, in two tiers. The bunks were made of unplaned pine boards, and as we had no blankets, they were left bare during the day, and at night occupied simply by ourselves. Later Baxter was given a blanket and a piece of cloth by a friend, and these he shared with me. The prison was said to be a mile in circumference. In rear of it ran the Chemung (or Tioga) river, some 20 yards distant. Thro the middle of the prison, parallelling the river, lay a pool of water, probably 3 to 6 feet deep and about 40 feet wide. We were told that this was the old river bed, its course having been changed by a freshet. One end of the pool did not quite reach the fence; the other end ran under it, extending into the common beyond. Here a narrow bridge crossed the pool, a sentinel standing on it to keep anyone from going to the other side of the prison, at that time unoccupied. The occupied part of the prison was, I believe, smaller than the other, the soil being hard, mixed with stones, while the unoccupied portion was low and sandy. When we arrived I think there were no tents, all prisoners then being lodged in the long wooden buildings. The sergeant of our ward was one of the guards, and we never saw him except at rollcalls (reveille and tattoo). 128 B E R R Y B E N S O N ' S C I V I L WAR BOOK Shortly after our arrival, I came across Savage, Russell, Ferneyhough, and Johnson, whom I had left at Point Lookout . Russell had taken...