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Belle Boyd In Camp & Prison - Belle Boyd - Bog

- (Volume 2)

Bag om Belle Boyd In Camp & Prison

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1865 Excerpt: ...under the camp bedstead when he entered the room. I was frightened, I will admit; for in a few minutes the sentries would be relieved, and of course the soldier would have to account for the loss of his bayonet. We wanted to free him from complicity in the affair; and woman's wit came to my assistance, as it had often done before. I proposed that, my room being larger than Miss Ida's, we should go in there and sit down. Fortunately to this the superintendent agreed. After remaining for a short time, I said, Oh Miss Ida, I have forgotten my pocket-handkerchief I and, running hastily into her room, I seized the bayonet, wrenched off the board, and returned the weapon to the scared sentinel. Little did Mr. Wood imagine the part I had just played, as he sat glaring around him with his cat-like eyes, and boasting that there warn't any thing going on in that prison that he didn't know of. For several days after this, Miss Ida and I whiled away our time by writing and receiving notes. Miss P., however, did not remain here long, for, having given her parole that she would do nothing more against the Yankee Government, she was released. CHAPTER XIII. A very Romantic Way of Corresponding--The Prison Authorities for once are at a Loss--My Confederate Flags--They wave over Washington in spite of Yankee Assertions to the contrary--I become very ill--Mr. Stanton in an unfavorable Light once more--My Prisoner of Front Eoyal in her true Character--Sentence of Court-Martial is announced to me--A Relapse of my former Illness--I am banished--The Cry of Murder raised round the Corner--Incidents in my Prison Life. One evening, about nine o'clock, while seated at my window, I was singing Take me back to my own sunny South, when quite...

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  • Sprog:
  • Engelsk
  • ISBN:
  • 9781453874257
  • Indbinding:
  • Paperback
  • Sideantal:
  • 136
  • Udgivet:
  • 11. oktober 2010
  • Størrelse:
  • 152x229x7 mm.
  • Vægt:
  • 191 g.
  • 2-3 uger.
  • 22. januar 2025
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Beskrivelse af Belle Boyd In Camp & Prison

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1865 Excerpt: ...under the camp bedstead when he entered the room. I was frightened, I will admit; for in a few minutes the sentries would be relieved, and of course the soldier would have to account for the loss of his bayonet. We wanted to free him from complicity in the affair; and woman's wit came to my assistance, as it had often done before. I proposed that, my room being larger than Miss Ida's, we should go in there and sit down. Fortunately to this the superintendent agreed. After remaining for a short time, I said, Oh Miss Ida, I have forgotten my pocket-handkerchief I and, running hastily into her room, I seized the bayonet, wrenched off the board, and returned the weapon to the scared sentinel. Little did Mr. Wood imagine the part I had just played, as he sat glaring around him with his cat-like eyes, and boasting that there warn't any thing going on in that prison that he didn't know of. For several days after this, Miss Ida and I whiled away our time by writing and receiving notes. Miss P., however, did not remain here long, for, having given her parole that she would do nothing more against the Yankee Government, she was released. CHAPTER XIII. A very Romantic Way of Corresponding--The Prison Authorities for once are at a Loss--My Confederate Flags--They wave over Washington in spite of Yankee Assertions to the contrary--I become very ill--Mr. Stanton in an unfavorable Light once more--My Prisoner of Front Eoyal in her true Character--Sentence of Court-Martial is announced to me--A Relapse of my former Illness--I am banished--The Cry of Murder raised round the Corner--Incidents in my Prison Life. One evening, about nine o'clock, while seated at my window, I was singing Take me back to my own sunny South, when quite...

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