On the way, one of our party enjoined my colleague and myself

"You had better not say Tribune to the Rebels. Tell them you are correspondents of some less obnoxious journal."

Months before, I had asked three Confederate officers -paroled prisoners within our lines:

"What would you do with a Tribune correspondent, if you captured him?" With the usual recklessness, two had answered :

"We would hang him upon the nearest sapling."

This remembrance was not cheering; but as we were the first correspondents of a radical Northern journal who had fallen into the enemy's hands, after a moment's interchange of views, we decided to stand by our colors, and tell the plain truth. It proved much the wiser

course.

One of the rescued men, coatless and hatless, with his face blackened until he looked like a native of Timbuc. too, addressed me familiarly. Unable to recognize him, I asked::

"Who are you?"

"Why," he replied, "I am Captain Ward.'

* Commander, not of the tug, whose captain was killed, but of the soldiers guarding it and the barges.

348

CONFINEMENT IN THE VICKSBURG JAIL. [1863

When the explosion occurred, he was sitting on the hurricane roof of the tug. It was more exposed than any other position, but the officers of the boat had shown symptoms of fear, and he determined to be where his revolver would enable him to control them if they attempted to desert us.

Some missile struck his head and stunned him. When he recovered consciousness, the tug had gone to the bottom, and he was struggling in the river. He had strength enough to clutch a rope hanging over the side of a barge, and keep his head above water. Permitting his sword and revolver, which greatly weighed him down, to sink, he called to his men on the blazing wreck. Under the hot fire of cannon and musketry, they formed a rope of their belts, and let it down to him. He fastened it under his arms; they lifted him up to the barge, whence he escaped by the hay-bale line.

At Vicksburg, the commander of the City Guards registered our names.

"I hope, sir," said Colburn, "that you will give us comfortable quarters.'

With a half-surprised expression, the major replied, dryly:

"Oh yes, sir; we will do the best we can for you." "The best" proved ludicrously bad. Just before daylight we were taken into the city jail. Its foul yard was half filled with criminals and convicts, black and white, all dirty and covered with vermin. In its midst was an open sewer, twelve or fifteen feet in diameter, the grand receptacle of all the prison filth. The rising sun of that sultry morning penetrated its reeking depths, and produced the atmosphere of a pest-house.

We dried our clothing before a fire in the yard, conversed with the villainous-looking jail-birds, and laughed

1863.]

THE FIRST GLIMPSE OF SAMBO.

349

about this unexpected result of our adventure. We had felt the danger of wounds or death; but it had not occurred to either of us that we might be captured. One of the private soldiers had paid a dollar for the privilege of coming on the expedition. To our query whether he deemed the money well invested, he replied that he would not have missed the experience for ten times the amount. One youth, confined in the jail for thieving, asked us the question, with which we were soon to grow familiar:

66

What did you all come down here for, to steal our niggers ?"

At noon we were taken out and marched through the streets. "Junius's" bare and bleeding feet excited the sympathy of a lady, who immediately sent him a pair of stockings, requesting if ever he met any of "our soldiers" suffering in the North, that he would do as much for them. The donor-Mrs. Arthur-was a very earnest Unionist, with little sympathy for "our soldiers," but used the phrase as one of the habitual subterfuges of the Loyalists.

While we waited in the office of the Provost-Marshal, I obtained a first brief glimpse of the inevitable negro. Just outside the open window, which extended to the floor, stood an African, with great shining eyes, expressing his sympathy through remarkable grimaces and contortions, bowing, scraping, and

"Husking his white ivories like an ear of corn."

Rebel citizens and soldiers were all about him; and, somewhat alarmed, I indicated by a look that he should be a little less demonstrative. But Sambo, as usual, knew what he was doing, and was not detected.

The Provost-Marshal, Captain Wells, of the Twenty

350

PAROLED TO RETURN HOME.

[1863.

eighth Louisiana Infantry, courteously assigned to us the upper story of the court-house, posting a sentinel at the door.

Major Watts, the Rebel Agent of Exchange, called upon us and administered the following parole :

CONFEDERATE STATES OF AMERICA.

VICKSBURG, MISSISSIPPI, May 4, 1863.

This is to certify, that in accordance with a Cartel in regard to an exchange of prisoners entered into between the Governments of the United States of America and the Confederate States of America, on the 22d day of July, 1862, Albert D. Richardson, citizen of New York, who was captured on the 4th day of May, at Vicksburg, and has since been held as a prisoner of war by the military authorities of the said Confederate States, is hereby paroled, with full leave to return to his country on the following conditions, namely: that he will not take up arms again, nor serve as military police or constabulary force in any fort, garrison, or field-work, held by either of said parties, nor as a guard of prisoners, dépôts, or stores, nor discharge any duty usually performed by soldiers, until exchanged under the Cartel referred to. The aforesaid Albert D. Richardson signifying his full and free consent to said conditions by his signature hereto, thereby solemnly pledges his word and honor to a due observance of the same.

N. G. WATTS,

ALBERT D. RICHARDSON.

Major Confederate States Army, and Agent for Exchange of Prisoners.

This parole was regular, formal, and final, taken at a regular point of exchange, by an officer duly appointed under the express provisions of the cartel. Major Watts informed us that he was prevented from sending us across the lines at Vicksburg, only because Grant's operations had suspended flag-of-truce communication. He assured us, that while he was thus compelled to forward us to Richmond, the only other point of exchange, we should not be detained there beyond the arrival of the first truce-boat.

1863.]

TURNING THE TABLES HANDSOMELY.

351

These formalities ended, the major, who was a polite, kind-hearted, rather pompous little officer, made an attempt at condolence and consolation.

"Gentlemen," said he, with a good deal of self-complacency, "you are a long way from home. However, do not despond; I have met a great many of your people in this condition; I have paroled some thousands of them, first and last. In fact, I confidently expect, within the next ten days, to see Major-General Grant, who commands your army, a prisoner in this room."

We knew something about that! Of course, we were familiar with the size of Grant's army; and, before we had been many hours in the Rebel lines, we found Union people who told us minutely the strength of Pemberton. So we replied to the prophet, that, while we had no sort of doubt of his seeing General Grant there, it would not be exactly in the capacity of a prisoner!

Colburn-who had the good fortune, for that occasion, to be attached to The World, and who, on reaching Richmond, was sent home by the first truce-boat-came back to Vicksburg in season to be in at the death. One of the first men he met, after the capture of the city, was Watts, to whom he rehearsed this little scene, with the characters reversed.

Major," said he, with dry humor, "you are a long distance from home! But do not despond; I have seen a good many of your people in this condition. In fact, I believe there are about thirty thousand of them here to-day, including Lieutenant-General Pemberton, who commands your army."

We stayed in Vicksburg two days. Our noisy advent made us objects of attention. Several Rebel journalists visited us, with tenders of clothing, money, and any as