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Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 7. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), Prison experience. (search)
k the ends of their beats. The main street, along which they were stationed, was crowed with prisoners, all anxious to see the monkey show. We knew their intense hatred to us, and we were well aware that the slightest demonstration on our part would be used as a pretext for firing into us. Notwithstanding this, some fellow, on mischief bent, deliberately crossed the line, and stole one of their knapsacks, which he tossed into the road, and the dismay and chagrin evinced by this ebony son of Mars can be imagined better than described. After calling in the officer of the guard, he related his story in the following pathetic style: Fore God, if I bin here six monts, I never tief anything from dese buckra. I wouldn't care, if dey give me back dat garytype. Dat's all I wants. These are, as near as can be remembered, the exact words he used on the occassion. He never recovered his knapsack, nor his garytype, for it was seen, long afterwards, in the possession of a prisoner, who used a