The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1892-01-20

II asked 10 recall bhe scene In my pasL
life, the scene that will cling most
wildly to my memory while conscious
ness lasts, should say, without hesita-
ton, 1t was the picture presented by my
fellow prisoners on my first introduo-
tion to the "Tower West Room" of
Libby prison. This was the room into
which the stairs from Turner's office
led.
II was q long, wide. dismal section Of
the warehouse. with low ceiling sup
ported by heavy uprights. Fastened to
these uprights were q few lean tallow
candles from which came enough light
10 reveal mass Of ragged, pale-faced
men who stood packed upon tho floor
like fish in a basket.
soon learned the cause of the noise
and uproar that had preceded me. The
snstant came to view at the head of
the stairs the ghastly-looking throng
surged toward me with such q series of
fierce yells as I never before heard,
though afterward became partaker
In these indescribable orgies.
'Fresh fishl Fresh fishi Fresh Hshl"
was the salutation of the ragged mob,
and every man, not only of this section
but all over the prison seemed to be
swelling the inexpiicable chorus of
Fresh fisht" soon learned that this
was the name applied to prisoners Just
in from the front, and that every man
had to undergo the same form OF in
itiation.
"Where's your baggage9" "I'm the
porteri give me your checksl' "Let me
show you to your room-the best In this
hotelr Keep your hands out of THAI
fresh-hsh's pocket; the Johnnies have
left him nothingi'' "Have bath be-
fore supper, sir?" "Hot whisky punch
and cigars for twol' BREAD or bloodp'
With these cries ringing inmy ears, to
the accompaniment of shrieks of laugh
ter that had In them nothing of merri-
ment, was pulled about, and would
have fallen had not one of the men
seized my arm and whispered:
Don't get mad at the poor fellows,
Harry, but come with me-"
The voice of my guide was that of
Howard Scott. turned and looked at
him. had not seen him for year,
then there was not a more gallant nor a
handsomer young soldier In the West.
Now, here he was-thin, pale and
ragged, but with light In the fine eyes
that showed privation had not weakened
his spirit.
AS he led me through the crowd he
introduced me to other spectral figures,
any tpap of whom might have passed for
twins. These figures asked me for the
a M = 10.
eager to learn II there was any prospect
of an immediate exchange, and, seeing
that could give them no encourage
ment, they turned sadly away.
Howard led me into room to the east,
which he explained was the clover mid
die" or "Lower Chickamauga Room
the long apartments taking their names
from the armies or battles In which most
OF the officers were captured. The two
upper rooms to the east were known as
''the Upper and Lower Potomac" We
went up another flight of steps and d.
rectly under the rafters we reached the
supper Chickamauga," where Howard
chung out" and where / found many
old friends, all looking SO changed and
bearing themselves so bravely thatit was
only with an effort I could keep back
my tears
Howard gave me some corn bread,
'tron-clad" they called 1t; it was heavy
and unpalatable, but as had had moth
ing to eat since leaving Bristol that
morning devoured the bread nor heed
cd the bits Of cob on which my teeth
grated.
had just finished this simple repast,
and was wondering where or how the
swarms Of men about me slept, when
from the southwest corner OF the prison
q voice rang out:
"Nine o'clock; post number one, and
alls WE'LL Lights out up tharl Lights
out, Yanksi'
"Nine o'clock; post number two, and
alrs welll''
Mine o'clock; post number three, and
all's wellf'
And SO from post to post, around the
prison, tho cries of the guards rang out,
while band of men, who did not APP
pear to be on guard, shouted: Lights
outp' till the last post ON Carey street
had announced that it was nine o'clock
and that all was we'll.
With the first cry of lights outp
the prisoners in the Upper Chickamauga
rushed to the crossbeam, on which
blankets and overcoats were hung, and
began making their beds on the cold,
wet boards.
Howard had an overcoat and blanket
left him by chaplain who had been
recently exchanged, and, with the
former under us and the latter over us,