Rensselaer Republican, Volume 14, Number 17, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 12 January 1882 — A STORY OF THE WAR. [ARTICLE]

A STORY OF THE WAR.

What Caused the Confederate Sweet Potatoes to Disappear. Chicago lnt£r-Oceaa. Mr. Joseph Wingfield,an ex-guards-man of Libby Prison, tells the following story of his experience while standing guard over prisoners one night in Lioby Prison in 1863: “The building was so crowded with prisoners that a large number of them were quartered in the second story of a building across the street. In the first story of this building the prison officers had stowed a large supply of splendid North Carolina sweet potatoes. “About the third day after the pri - oners had been placed in the building it was noticed that the potatoes were disappearing at the rate of about a bushel a day. At first it was thought that the rats had taken them, but a second thought showed that the idea was absurd. Sentinels were posted around the building, with orders to shoot any man caught stealing those but they didn’t see anybody to shoot, and, although they were posted there day aud night, and no one was allowed to enter the room in which the potatoes were kept, they still continued to disappear. “These potatoes at that time were considered luxuries, and the Confederate officers were nearly wild with rage at their repeated losses. The doors and windows of the room were sealed, aud private marks weie put on the wax. The next morniDg the officers went into the room. The wax was all right, but another huahel of the potatoes had Vanished. It was the maddest crowd you ever saw. They locked me in, and a lighted caudle was put at each end of the room so that I eopld see. “I was ordered to shoot ou sight anybody I saw stealing those yams. It was'terrible lonesome in that room. Just as fyst as I would light one candle and go to the other end of the room to light the other, the rats would cut the first one down. They were regular Confederate rats, and a candle was a godsend to them. About midnight I heard a creaking, grating noise. I cocked my gun and listened. The noise ceased, I could see" nothing but the rats, and I began to think the place was Presently the noise occured again. 1 looked at the pile of potatoes, and presently I saw something shoot from the ceiling and fall on them. I saw it was a brick, and could distinguish a rope tied to it. I dept a little nearer to get a good look at the thing, but before I could examine it, it was drawn slowly up, and there was about a peck of potatoes sticking to it. It went up through the hole which had been cut iu the floor above, aud presently came down again with a thump right ameng the potatoes. It was the most artful arrangement you ever sa w. The brick had about fifty holes drilled in it, and through each hole a sharpened teupenny nail had been run, so that when the brick fell among the potatoes these nails stuck into every one they fell on. I could not help laughing at the smart dodge those Yankees had taken. I gently put my hand forward and caugnt lima of the rope. Pretty.scon they began to draw on it, when it did not move, I heard one fellow say: “Steady, boys; the brick has hung into something. Puff her steady without jerking.” “They did pull steadily, and fairly lifted me lrom the floor. ‘No jerk; easy, boys, easy,’ the director said, and they tugged away. I got pretty red in the face holding to the rope. I was afraid to let gb,because I thought some of those spiked nails might strike me iu passing. I thought of my pocketknife and hauled it out just as tney tyere putting all their weight on the other eud of the rope. I cut it in two and the end shot back through the hole in the ceiling, and I could hear a rolling and tumbling on the floor above, showing that the sudden giving away of the rope had a disastrous effect. I heard another voice say; “There, now, I told you so. You’ve broken the rope. We’ve lost our brick, aud to-morrow we’ll be found out. Can’t you see it? We might hook it up. .Next I saw a long Deck protruding through the hole, and a fellow peering bown. Then I called out: “If you trouble any more of those potates I’ll shoot.’ That fellow’s head shot back through that hole just like a terrapin, and it was still as death up there. I hated to tell on them, because it was such a sharp scheme of foraging oh the enemy, but I had to When the officers went up tne next morning to examine the room it took a long time to find “the hole. Those Yankees had cut a hole about a foot square through the floor, and it was done so neatly that it took good eyes to discover it.”