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 THE COLLECTION OF 
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 CLASS OF 1889 
 
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Dark Days of the Rebellion, 
 
 -OR— 
 
 Life in Southern 
 Military Prisons 
 
 GIVING A CORRECT AND THRILLING 
 HISTORY OF 
 
 Unparalled Suffering, 
 
 Narrow Escapes, 
 
 Heroic Encounters, 
 
 Bold Achievements, 
 
 Cold Blooded Murders, 
 
 Severe Tests of Loyalty, 
 And Patriotism. 
 
 Written from a diary kept while in Libby and Salisbury Prisons 
 in 1S64-5, and now in possession of the author. 
 
 By B. F. BOOTH, 
 
 Late Co. I, 22d la. Vol. Inft. 
 
 BOOTH PUBLISHING COMPANY, 
 
 JNDIANOLA, IOWA. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1897, by B. F. Booth, in 
 the office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 
 
To the Widows, 
 
 Children, Fathers, Mothers, 
 Brothers, Sisters, Friends 
 and Surviving Comrades 
 
 OF THE 
 
 THOUSANDS OF BRAVE MEN 
 
 Who left the pleasures and comforts of 
 home, abandoned cherished enterprises 
 and business schemes. 
 
 FOR THE PURPOSE OF 
 
 SERVING THEIR COUNTRY 
 
 AND WHO HAVE BEEN CAPTURED BY THE 
 ENEMY WHILE IN THE FAITHFUL PER¬ 
 FORMANCE OF THEIR DUTY, 
 
 AND GONE DOWN TO 
 
 Untimely Graves Through Unparalleled Sufferings, 
 
 Is this Volume Most Respectfully Dedicated by 
 
 THE AUTHOR, 
 
HE FOLLOWING pages are offered to inquiring minds 
 V with the hope that they may throw some light upon the 
 inhuman treatment we received in Southern prisons. 
 
 The multiplied woes of the battle-field, the suffering of the sick 
 and wounded in hospitals which the federal government had 
 established, might almost be considered the enjoyments of 
 Paradise, when compared with the heart-rending and prolonged 
 agonies of captives in rebel stockades. 
 
 For thirty-one years I have waited and watched for some 
 one to publish a history of Salisbury, N. C., Prison, but I have 
 waited in vain. I am egotistic enough to believe that the rea¬ 
 son why such a history has not appeared is because no other 
 man brought out from that place of inhuman torture has the 
 data from which to compile such a history. It is a singular fact 
 that Libby, Andersonville, Belle Isle, and other Southern 
 prisons have had such a large place in the published records of 
 the war, that they have become household names in Northern 
 homes; while I am convinced that thousands of our loval people 
 do not know that such a place as Salisbury Prison ever existed. 
 And yet, in this prison pen more of our brave and noble 
 soldiers were killed, died from starvation, and from numerous 
 loathsome diseases and conditions, than in any other prison in 
 the Southern Confederacy during the dark days of the war. 
 
 My only purpose in writing this book is to give a true record 
 of life and conditions as I experienced and observed them dur¬ 
 ing my imprisonment in Libby and Salisbury prisons. Every 
 day of the time, beginning with my capture October 19, 1864, 
 to my return home, March 19, 1865 (except during my long 
 
sickness altar reaching home), I kept a true and faithful record 
 of all that was experienced by me or that passed under my 
 eyes. To what straits I was often put to get material on which 
 to write the daily record—the scraps of paper, books, in fact 
 anything and everything that would show a pencil mark, the 
 careful treasuring of bits of pencils, often less than an inch in 
 length; the many narrow escapes I ran of losing my precious 
 records, and the many ways which I took to hide them from the 
 eyes of prison authorities, who would never have allowed me to 
 take them out of the prison if they had known I had them; of 
 these and many other interesting things connected with the mak¬ 
 ing and preservation of this journal, I can not now wr e. 
 
 I am aware it would be an unpardonable presumption forme 
 to pretend to claim that this is a complete history of Salisbury 
 Prison. No; no tongue nor pen can tell the whole, dreadful 
 story of this awful place. I do claim that it is a correct 
 history so far as the experience, observation, study and con¬ 
 scientious preservation of written facts of one man can make 
 it. My claim of accuracy is strengthened by endorsements 
 received from officers of the Confederate army who were 
 familiar with the prison, and from hundreds of comrades who 
 were sad participants with me in the events and experiences of 
 which I have written. For reasons stated at the proper place, 
 the schedule of the daily death-list, found in Chapter 22, who 
 were taken out and buried in the trenches was made by my 
 own hands from the records of the dead-house the day I went 
 out of the prison, and is the only record of the Salisbury Prison 
 dead in existence. It is absolutely correct as I have still in my 
 possession the original record made by me in that dead-house? 
 
 Some there are who will say; ,l Why publish such books. 
 Why not let by-gones be by-gones? Why not let the dead past 
 stay where it belongs? Instead of arousing animosity, and per¬ 
 petuating the bitterness of those sad days, we ought to do all 
 we can to blot out the dark memories and perpetuate peace and 
 
 15 
 
good-will among all men.” 
 
 That is true. We rejoice that the war is over; that peace 
 reigns over all the land; that nature and the advance of enter¬ 
 prise are slowly, but surely, blotting out all traces of Southern 
 prison pens; that our glorious flag waves over a united nation. 
 I rejoice in all this, while at the same time I am sure that the 
 story of our great conflict for the preservation of the Union, and 
 the defense of our flag, will never cease to be of interest and 
 importance to those who were either directly or indirectly 
 engaged in the mighty conflict. This Nation can not afford to 
 forget the men who fought its battles from 1801-1865. It can 
 not afford to forget the deeds of daring and suffering on battle¬ 
 fields and in prison pens which make these years the most 
 memorable in American history. 
 
 I do not ask for vengeance or retribution for the thousands 
 of heroic men who died from murder, starvation, cruelty and 
 disease in these prison pens of the Confederacy. I only ask 
 that the great sacrifices of my dead comrades shall not be suf¬ 
 fered to pass into oblivion. I ask that the example of this 
 noble heroism and loyality to their country and their flag shall 
 not be forgotten or treated as a mere trifle. Let their deeds be 
 treasured and handed down to the generations yet to come, 
 that they too may be as ready to do, and dare, and die for right, 
 honor and good government, when these are assailed by the 
 enemies of the Nation, whether at home or abroad, as were the 
 men of 1861-1865. It seems to me that in order to show our 
 appreciation of their virtue, and reap the reward of their sowing 
 of tears and blood, we must hold up to scorn the crime of those 
 who made their sacrifices necessary. I can not understand 
 what good examples of such heroic sacrifice can accomplish if 
 they are to be followed by such a maudlin confusion of moral 
 ideas as now threaten to obliterate all distinction between the 
 men who fought, and suffered, and died for the right, and those 
 who resisted, killed and tortured them for the wrong. 
 
 7 
 
> 
 
 s -> 
 
 
 .... 
 
 I am conscious that, from a literary standpoint, this book is 
 open to severe criticism. I do not claim literary accuracy for 
 it. I have endeavored to give, as nearly as I could, the facts as 
 they were originally constructed. Therefore, I beg the leniency 
 of critics, bearing in mind that my on ! y purpose is to give a 
 plain, honest, impartial history of life in Salisbury Prison—the 
 only work of the kind now in existence. 
 
 B. F. BOOTH, 
 
 Late of Company 22d Iowa Infantry. 
 
 8 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 The Beginning—Attack on and Surrender of 
 
 Fort Sumpter—Its Effect upon the North— 
 Call for Troops—Battle of Bull Run—More 
 Troops Called Out—Iowa Immediately Re¬ 
 sponds!—I Enlist in the 22nd Infantry— 
 Ordered South—Campaigning in Missouri— 
 
 Capture and Death of a Bushwhacker 
 
 At the hour of 2 o’clock in the afternoon of 
 
 April 11th, 1861, General Beauregard, com- 
 
 '' 1 ‘ ' < N'. 
 
 manding the Provisional Army of the Confeder¬ 
 ate States of America, at Charleston, S. C., sent 
 
 a courier to Major Robert Anderson, of the 1st 
 
 U. S. Artillery, commanding Fort Sumpter, 
 demanding, in the name of the Confederate 
 States of America, the surrender of the Fort, its 
 garrison and equipments, and specifying the 
 hour of 6 o’clock P. M., as 1 the limit of time 
 allowed for answer to his demand. Within the 
 time specified, Major Anderson returned the fol¬ 
 lowing answer: 
 
 “I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt 
 of your communication demanding the evacua¬ 
 tion of this Fort, and to say in reply thereto, 
 that it is a demand which I regret that my sense 
 
 9 
 
of honor and of my obligations to my Govern¬ 
 ment, prevent my compliance.” 
 
 Beauregard at once wired Major Anderson’s 
 answer to the Confederate Secretary of War at 
 Richmond, to which that official replied as 
 follows: 
 
 “Do not desire needlessly to bombard Fort 
 Sumpter. If Major Anderson will state the 
 time at which, as indicated by himself, he will 
 evacuate, and agree that in the meantime he 
 will not use his guns- against us, unless ours 
 should be employed against Fort Sumpter, you 
 are authorized thus to avoid the effusion of 
 blood. If this, or its equivalent, be refused, 
 reduce the fort as your judgment decides to be 
 practicable.” 
 
 At the hour of 11 o’clock that night General 
 Beauregard conveyed to Major Anderson the 
 substance of his instructions from the Confed¬ 
 erate Secretary of War. To this communica¬ 
 tion Major Anderson responded by courteously, 
 but: firmly, refusing to surrender or evacuate 
 Fort Sumpter unless compelled to do so by the 
 success of the assaulting forces, or. by order of 
 the United States Government. Thereupon 
 Beauregard telegraphed the Confederate Secre¬ 
 tary at Richmond: 
 
 “He will not consent.” 
 
 10 
 
At 3 o’clock A. M., Major Anderson received 
 * Beauregard’s ultimatum in the following mes¬ 
 sage conveyed to him by Col. Chestnut and Cap¬ 
 tain Lee: 
 
 “By authority of Brigadier General Beaure¬ 
 gard, commanding the Provisional Forces of the 
 Confederate States, we have the honor to notify 
 you that he will open the fire of his batteries on 
 Fort Sumpter in one hour from this time.” 
 
 Already Stevens’ mortar battery at Sullivan 
 Island was shotted, ready to open fire on Fort 
 Sumpter. At precisely 4:30 o’clock in the after¬ 
 noon of the 12th of April, 1861, Beauregard gave 
 the fatal order. At once an old man, lean and 
 long-haired, with eyes fairly blazing in their 
 sockets, tottered forward and eagerly grasping 
 in his long, bony hands a lanyard, pulled the 
 string. A flash, a roar, and away across the 
 waters of Charleston Bay speeds the shrieking 
 shell on its mission of death and destruction. 
 The old man worked his fingers in an ecstacy of 
 fiendish delight, while he chuckled and raved to 
 those about him: 
 
 “Aye, I told them at Columbia that night, that 
 the defense of the South is to be secured only 
 through the lead of South Carolina; and, old as 
 I am, I had come here to join them in that lead 
 —and T have done it!” 
 
That old man was Edmund Ruffin, of Virginia. 
 Simultaneously with the flash of that first gun, 
 and the bursting of that first shell, Beauregard 
 telegraphed to Secretary Walker: 
 
 “We opened fire at half past four o’clock!” 
 
 The first shot was followed by a most wither¬ 
 ing and continuous bombardment from the net¬ 
 work of batteries with which the rebels’ had 
 invested Fort Sumpter. Reinforcements fail¬ 
 ing to reach him, the fort in ruins, liis guns dis¬ 
 mounted, his powder magazines exploded, leav¬ 
 ing him only four barrels' and three cartridges 
 of powder, his provisions all gone, fire spreading 
 on every hand until there was not a portion of 
 the fort left where a breath of air could be got, 
 except through a wet cloth, the brave Anderson 
 was compelled to capitulate and surrender the 
 fort on the terms offered by Beauregard on the 
 11th. On Sunday forenoon, April 14th, with 
 colors flying and drums beating, lie marched his 
 gallant command out of the wreck of Fort 
 Sumpter, bringing away company and private 
 property, and saluting his flag with fifty guns. 
 
 The first blow struck at the flag almost para¬ 
 lyzed the North. The first reports of the con¬ 
 flict were discredited, many deeming such a 
 thing impossible. But the announcement of the 
 surrender of Fort Sumpter, the defiant editorials 
 of the leading southern papers and the procla- 
 
 12 
 
mation of President Lincoln calling for 75,000 
 volunteers which appeared in the northern 
 papers on Monday morning, April 15th, aroused 
 the North to a sense of the situation, and the 
 terrible fact that the threats of the Southern fire 
 eaters were at last put into execution, and the 
 great civil war—the conflict and crime of the 
 ages—was inaugurated. 
 
 The work of enlisting soldiers in response to 
 the call of the President was carried forward 
 with the greatest enthusiasm. Crowds of 
 excited men marched and countermarched 
 through the cities and towns of the North. 
 Drums were beating, banners flying, while the 
 air was rent with the wildest cheering for the 
 Union. Not only was the call for 75,000 men at 
 once filled, but over half a million of men were 
 clamoring for the privilege of being enrolled for 
 the defense of the Union and the honor of the 
 flag. It soon became apparent to President 
 Lincoln that 75,000 troops were not enough to 
 meet the demands of the war which was now 
 on in full force, so in May lie issued another 
 proclamation calling for 42,000 additional 
 troops whose term of enlistment should be for 
 three years or during the war. 
 
 After some preliminary skirmishing, resulting 
 in some loss on both sides, the first great battle 
 of the war, known as the battle of Bull Run, was 
 
 13 
 
 ;'V? ‘ , • 
 
fought on the 21st of July, 1861. The Union 
 forces were repulsed and retreated in a some¬ 
 what demoralized condition on the City of 
 Washington; but it is also true that the enemy 
 was even more seriously defeated. General 
 Stonewall Jackson, in his report of the battle, 
 confesses that, although he had, at the last 
 moment, broken the center of the Union line, 
 both flanks of his own army were turned and 
 placed in great danger of being totally defeated. 
 The most that can be said for this first serious 
 battle of the terrible civil war is, that it was a 
 drawn battle. The war was now fully inaugu¬ 
 rated, and the loyal people of the North awoke 
 to the fact that the forces already in the field 
 were not sufficient to conquer the South and pre¬ 
 serve the Union. 
 
 The battles which were fought in the early 
 part of the war convinced President Lincoln 
 and his Cabinet that the war was going to be one 
 of vast proportions and in order to strengthen 
 the army and put troops enough in the field to 
 conquer the rebellious South, he issued his call 
 for 300,000 additional volunteers. As soon as 
 the old war Governor of Iowa, Hon. Samuel J. 
 Kirkwood, received notice of Iowa’s quota, he 
 at once issued his proclamation calling on the 
 loyal people of the State to meet it. Recruiting 
 officers were at work in the towns and cities of 
 
 14 
 
the State and the work of enlistment went on 
 rapidly and with great enthusiasm. Regiment 
 after regiment was mustered into the service • 
 and was .sent to the front, and in a very short 
 time Iowa’s quota was full and thousands' were 
 still offering their services to their country. 
 
 The author of this book was one of the many 
 thousands who responded to this last call, 
 enlisting in Company “I,” 22nd Iowa Infantry, 
 at Iowa City, in the month of July, 1862, and 
 was mustered into service August 9, 1862, by 
 General Henderson, U. S. Mustering Officer. 
 The regiment remained in Iowa City at what 
 was known as' “Camp Pope,” until September 
 25th, when it was armed, equipped and sent to 
 the front to become a part of the great army 
 which had already preceded it. When the regi¬ 
 ment, most of whom had bidden good-bye to 
 wives, children, fathers and mothers, brothers 
 and sisters, leaving the comforts and safety of 
 home for the privations and dangers of a sol¬ 
 dier’s life that they might engage in the great 
 conflict for God and human rights. High 
 hopes were entertained that the war would end 
 long before the term of our enlistment which 
 was for three years or during the war. Alas! 
 how little we knew what those years would 
 bring forth, or through what scenes and exper¬ 
 iences of trial and suffering we would pass 
 
 15 
 
/ 
 
 before the time of our service was ended! 
 
 The regiment arrived at Benton Barracks, St. 
 Louis, Missouri, early in October, where we 
 spent a short time, the greater part of which 
 was devoted to the task of drilling. About the 
 middle of October we were ordered to Rolla, 
 Missouri, where we were assigned to garrison 
 duty at that important post. Here we spent 
 the greater part of the winter of 1862 and 1863, 
 guarding commissary stores, protecting railroad 
 trains', furnishing escorts to the wagon trains 
 carrying stores and ammunition to the different 
 detachments and army posts in western and 
 southern Missouri. At that period there were 
 no large forces of rebels in Missouri. Price had 
 been driven out of the State and liis command 
 broken up into detachments and guerilla bands, 
 whose business it was to attack scouting parties 
 from the Union posts, harass and hinder the 
 movement of supplies by rail and wagon trains’. 
 The men composing these roving, plundering, 
 maurading bands were thoroughly acquainted 
 with the country in which they operated, there¬ 
 fore it required the presence of strong escorts to 
 save the supply trains from being captured and 
 destroyed, or turned over to the service of their 
 friends. This kind of service, performed as it 
 was, in all kinds of weather and over roads that 
 were often almost impassable, crossing streams 
 
 16 
 
for the most part bridgeless, making it neces¬ 
 sary for the soldiers to wade them neck deep in 
 mnd and water, impressed the men of the 22nd 
 Iowa that real soldiering was not child’s play. 
 
 On the 9th of February, 1863, we were ordered 
 to break camp and be ready to march at the 
 lionr of noon of the same day. Onr destination 
 was West Plains, Missouri, thence over the 
 Ozark Mountains to Iron Mountain, from there 
 to St. Genevieve, on the Mississippi River, where 
 we were to embark on a steamboat for Milliken’s 
 Bend, near Vicksburg. One morning a courier 
 was carrying an order from Brigadier General 
 Davidson, who was in command of the expedi¬ 
 tion, to Colonel Stone, who commanded the 22nd 
 Iowa, when he was fired upon by a bushwhacker 
 who was hidden in the dense undergrowth 
 which lined the road on either side. Before the 
 bushwhacker could make good his escape he 
 was captured, brought into our camp and placed 
 under guard. Continuing our march over the 
 mountains, we passed through a desolate, 
 uninhabited region, not a human being or habi- 
 tation being visible in the heavy timber. Sud¬ 
 denly we came upon a small log cabin which 
 our prisoner said was his residence. Having 
 asked and gained permission to see his wife, 
 with the injunction to make the interview very 
 brief, lie called her to the door where they 
 engaged in conversation for a few moments. He 
 
 17 
 
was then ordered to close the sad interview and 
 move forward, but being stubborn and rather 
 slow to comply, he was brought to his senses, 
 and to a compliance with the order, by the sharp 
 prick of a bayonet. He moved on with dogged 
 steps about one hundred yards, and then, with¬ 
 out uttering a, word he made one desperate leap 
 from the side of his guard, gained the timber 
 and with the fleetness of a deer ran down a steep 
 hill. Instantly a dozen or more guns were 
 leveled upon him. Three times he was' ordered 
 to* halt, which he disregarded, when a volley was 
 sent after the fleeing man, and he fell dead. His 
 wife seeing the desperate leap he had made for 
 his life, and seeing him fall at the report of the 
 guns, came running to his aid, but she was too 
 late to render him any assistance, his spirit had 
 already ascended to God who gave it. The des¬ 
 perate man had paid the penalty of his attempt 
 to commit murder. Leaving him in the care of 
 his weeping wife, the command pushed forward 
 to encounter other scenes of horror and blood¬ 
 shed, but none more weird and tragic than the 
 death of the unknown bushwhacker of the Ozark 
 Mountains. 
 
 18 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 Embark for Vicksburg;—The Vicksburg Cam¬ 
 paign—Gunboats Run the Gauntlet— 
 
 Advance on Vicksburg—Halleck’s Order and 
 Grant’s Reply—Charge of Lawler’s Brigade 
 —Desperate Charge of the 22nd Iowa 
 Infantry—Heroic Act of Sergeant N. C. Mes¬ 
 senger. 
 
 At St. Genevive we boarded a steamboat 
 and were taken down the Mississippi River to 
 Milliken’s Bend, where we were assigned to the 
 13th Army Corps. General Grant was then 
 engaged in making preparations for the speedy 
 reduction and capture of Vicksburg and the 
 opening up of the Mississippi River to the 
 Union gunboats and transports. Almost insur¬ 
 mountable difficulties seemed to stand in the 
 way of accomplishing that great work as speed¬ 
 ily as it was at first intended. The river itself 
 was at flood-tide, filling the innumerable bay¬ 
 ous, creeks and lagoons, which ran in almost 
 every direction about the city. But at last the 
 waters subsided sufficiently to make it possible 
 for Grant’s army, which had been wading and 
 
 19 
 
swimming* tlie swollen streams, to find sufficient 
 dry land to begin operations, and instead of 
 wasting their time and strength fighting alliga- 
 eors and other reptiles, to begin the more useful, 
 though dangerous work of fighting “Johnnies.” 
 
 The plan of the Vicksburg campaign is now 
 so well known that it is needless to dwell upon 
 it at any length. General Grant’s army was 
 to be marched down the west bank of the river 
 to a point below Vicksburg, and from thence, 
 under cover of the gunboats, was to* cross the 
 river and attack that great rebel stronghold 
 from the rear. This was one of the most desper¬ 
 ate movements of the war. General Grant said 
 it was a sight magnificent, but terrible. 
 
 At about 10 o’clock on the night of the 16th 
 of April, 1864, eight gunboats and three tran¬ 
 sports started on the perilous undertaking of 
 running the batteries which defended Vicks¬ 
 burg on the river front. All the skill and 
 strength of the rebel government had been 
 employed in making these defenses as complete 
 as they could be made. The best engineering 
 talent had been employed in their construction 
 and the heaviest and most powerful guns were 
 mounted on their ramparts, or looked out from 
 their embrasures. General Grant, from a tug¬ 
 boat stationed in the river, watched the' brave 
 men start on their perilous journey, while at a 
 
 20 
 
point further down the river, immediately oppo¬ 
 site the rebel batteries, General Sherman, with 
 a small detachment of soldiers, awaited tlieir 
 coming, intending to render all the assistance 
 he could to the crews of the boats if the rebel 
 batteries succeeded in sinking them. Admiral 
 Porter, who commanded the expedition, gave 
 orders to his officers to get under way, his own 
 flag-ship, the “Benton,” taking the lead. The , 
 rebels kept a sharp lookout and the advancing 
 ironclads, though only drifting with the cur¬ 
 rent, moving as noislessly as the gentle flow of 
 the river itself, were speedily discovered. In 
 an instant, a huge solid shot shrieked through 
 the darkness above the vessels and buried 1 itself 
 in the river beyond. The next moment was one 
 Of profound silence, and then, as if all the furies 
 of Pandemonium were let loose at once, the calm 
 was broken by the roar of Vicksburg’s heaviest 
 and most terrible batteries. Shot, shell and 
 straight bolts of iron were hurled with the most 
 terrific fury and precision through the tremb¬ 
 ling atmosphere. Immense piles of wood and 
 rosin had been gathered at the various head¬ 
 lands, to which the match was now applied, and 
 these, like monstrous torches, suddenly thrust 
 up out, of the earth, blazed forth, flinging their 
 fierce light far out into 1 the river, so that not 
 only was the fleet brought into clear view, but 
 
 21 
 

 the entire river for miles was illumined as with 
 the light of day. Two of Porter’s ironclads were 
 sunk, consorts and transports crushed into each 
 other in their mad efforts to escape the awful 
 effects of the tremendous, withering fire from 
 rebel artillery. Some of the transports turned 
 back, hoping to escape destruction by steaming 
 up the river, but Porter had prepared for this, 
 • and the retreaters were driven back by a gun¬ 
 boat which brought up the rear of the advanc¬ 
 ing line. Signal after signal went up from the 
 deck of the “Benton,” as though the noble ves¬ 
 sel was lying quietly at her anchorage, while 
 from the staff the Admiral’s pennant flouted 
 out proudly, defiantly on the hot, night air. It 
 took the boats two hours to pass through the 
 awful storm of shot and shell hurled against 
 them] from the rebel guns', some of them at 
 almost point-blank range. Strange to say, only 
 two boats were sunk, the rest ran the gauntlet 
 in safety. The fleet came to anchor below the 
 danger point, andi Grant’s invincible army was 
 in a position to cross in almost complete safety. 
 
 The point where the greater part of his army 
 crossed the river was known as Bruinsburg, and 
 from thence the march to- Vicksburg was com¬ 
 menced. McCleland’s corps led the advance 
 of the army, having the 2nd Brigade of Carr’s 
 division, commanded by Col. Wm. M. Stone, of 
 
 22 
 
cb . 
 
 the 22nd Iowa, ait thej head of the column. 
 Nothing of unusual interest transpired until 
 about the hour of midnight, when the advance 
 encountered the enemy about eight miles from 
 Port Gibson. Here was fought the first battle 
 in the new campaign against Vicksburg. That 
 evening Grant’s army marched into Port Gib¬ 
 son, and the first great victory was gained. On 
 May 12th, at 4 o’clock in the morning, McPher¬ 
 son’s Corps struck the enemy’s videttes in front 
 of Raymond, and at 5 o’clock P. M. his troops 
 marched into Raymond, the enemy falling back 
 on Jackson, the capital of Mississippi. Then it 
 was that the splendid generalship of Grant 
 began to be manifest. Instead of pushing on 
 to the immediate investiture of Vicksburg, he 
 suddenly threw his entire army on Jackson and 
 drove Pemberton into liis works on Black River. 
 This was one of the hardest battles fought 
 in the vicinity of Vicksburg. The enemy had 
 the advantage of numbers, position and 
 defenses. But he was terribly beaten, suffering 
 a loss of 24 pieces of artillery, 3000 killed and 
 wounded, and 3000 prisoners. The Union loss 
 was 2441. 
 
 Before 9 o’clock on the morning of the 17th 
 another battle had; been fought. While the battle 
 was raging in its hottest fury, a dashing young 
 officer rode up to General Grant, with an order 
 
 23 
 
from Genera] Hal leek, who was then at the 
 head of the United States army, commanding 
 him to abandon his campaign against Vicks¬ 
 burg and take his army to Port Hudson and 
 reinforce General Banks. Of course Halleck 
 was entirely ignorant of Grant's movements and 
 victories, because when the fighting General 
 turned his back upon the Mississippi River he 
 cut off all communication between himself and 
 the authorities at Washington. They knew 
 nothing of him, lie did not care to know much 
 about them. General Grant’s reply to the order 
 was: 
 
 “I think it is now too late.” 
 
 The words were scarcely spoken when, on 
 glancing to the right, he saw a General officer 
 in his shirt sleeves , leading his brigade to the 
 assault. That officer was General Lawler, and 
 the brigade lie was leading was composed of the 
 21st, 22nd, and 23rd Iowa Infantry, and the 
 11th Wisconsin Infantry. The object of the 
 movement was an assault on their worksi At a 
 given signal the brigade, with a mighty cheer, 
 left the cover of the woods, and, in spite of a ter 
 rific fire from the enemy, crossed the open bot¬ 
 tom on a run, waded the bayou, and iirfive min 
 utes from the time the order to charge was 
 given, the brigade was inside the rebel breast¬ 
 works. General Grant said: 
 
 24 
 
“It was a daring and splendid movement, in 
 every way honorable to the skill of the brave 
 officer who led it and the brave men who exe¬ 
 cuted it.” 
 
 Here let me say, there was something grand 
 and terrible in the assaults which formed such 
 a prominent feature in General Grant’s tactics. 
 Holding a part of his army in reserve for any 
 emergencies that might arise, he managed to 
 hurl the other part of it with full force upon the 
 point which he saw to be the least protected 
 and the most favorable for an assualt. It was not 
 a quest ion of doing an astounding! piece of 
 “fancy work” that would surprise the nation, 
 but with the straightforward, powerful push of 
 the man of common sense, who is determined to 
 crush his opponent at a single blow. He did not 
 shelter nor spare himself from danger, and 
 when his order was to “Charge!” lie meant 
 “charge,” and lie expected liis men to under¬ 
 stand that lie wanted their bayonets kept well 
 down at the point. 
 
 The same troops who had sailed and waded 
 two hundred miles in a little over two weeks, 
 fought and won six battle in as many days, 
 were now asked to take Vicksburg by siege or 
 storm. The attempts to take the city and free 
 the waters of the Mississippi had already lost 
 the Union army 10,000 men, killed and 
 
 25 
 
wounded. Other loyal lives were ready for the 
 sacrifice and Grant’s soldiers urged him to 
 assualt the works at once. 
 
 On the morning of May 19th saw the Union 
 army forming a semicircular line outside of 
 Vicksburg’s fortifications eight miles long. Ten 
 o’clock of the morning of May the 22nd was the 
 time set for storming the works. Lawler’s bri¬ 
 gade of Caw’s division, including the 21st, 22nd, 
 and 23d Iowa, charged just south of the Jack- 
 son railroad. The principal fort in front of 
 Lawler occupied a /prominent hill close to the 
 railroad. Up this hill the 21st and 22nd Iowa 
 went with cheer, defying the hail storm of bul¬ 
 lets that met them on the way, and the awful 
 enfilading fire from other angles in the 
 entrenchments. Just as they reached the ditch 
 of the fort it was a. hot and a dangerous time, 
 when thirteen men, led by Sergeant N. 0. Mes¬ 
 senger, climbed out of the ditch over the 
 shoulders of each other, right into the fort, 
 Beauregard killing or dispersing the enemy 
 within. Such valor is seldom witnessed in 
 battle. 
 
 Brave as the action was it accomplished but 
 little, as the enemies guns so covered the cap¬ 
 tured city that it was untenable. . Our troops 
 were forced to evacuate it, and it fell again 
 into the hands of the enemy. 
 
 It may be of interest to the readers of this 
 
 26 
 
book for me to describe the part, taken by my 
 own regiment in the terrific assault on Fort 
 Beauregard. It was one of the most desperate 
 charges made during the war. It was one of 
 those necessary experiments which, in offensive 
 warfare, a commander is compelled by a sense 
 of duty to make, even though the result may be 
 in doubt. 
 
 The 22nd Iowa Infantry was commanded by 
 Col. Wm. M. Stone, and it led the Division com¬ 
 manded by General Carr in its assaul on Fort 
 Beauregard. Steadily, and in splendid order, the 
 Division moved forward. Not encountering any 
 opposition from the enemy, we began to think 
 the victory was going to be gained without any 
 fighting. Just as we reached a point close to 
 the rebel works, an obstacle in the line of march 
 made it necessary to change the line to an 
 oblique, which brought us very close to the fort, 
 when, without any warning, and to our utter 
 dismay, a host of riflemen sprang to the ram¬ 
 parts and poured such a continuous and deadly 
 fire into our lines, that the division staggered 
 and at some points fell back. In a moment the 
 line was reformed and pushed forward to grap¬ 
 ple with the rebels. Once more such a wither¬ 
 ing fire came from the rebel works, that, with 
 the exception of the 22nd Iowa, and a few of the 
 11th Wisconsin, who steadily pushed forward to 
 
 27 
 
the ramparts of the fort, the division was driven 
 back and finally retreated. Here Captain Rob¬ 
 ertson was killed, and the final assault was led 
 by Sergeant N. G. Messenger, of Company “I,” 
 22nd Iowa, who led eleven men into the fort, 
 capturing the garrison consisting of a Lieuten¬ 
 ant and twelve men. Sergeant Messenger and 
 his little band of brave soldier®—Iowa soldiers 
 —held the fort until the army fell back on 
 either side, when the rebels again rallied, and 
 having concentrated their forces, rushed to the 
 attack and drove the captors out of the fort, 
 inflicting heavy loss upon them. This charge of 
 the 22nd Iowa on Fort Beauregard, on the 22nd 
 of May, 18G3, led by Col. Wm. M. Stone, and the 
 final capture of the fort by a mere handful of 
 the regiment under the heroic leadership of Ser¬ 
 geant N. C. Messenger, of Co. “I,” was one of 
 the greatest exhibitions of northern bravery to 
 be found in the annals of the rebellion. 
 
 28 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 Fall of Vicksburg—Its Irreparable Loss to the 
 Southern Confederacy—We Embark for New 
 Orleans—Guarding the Governor of Louisi¬ 
 ana—His Ignorance of Iowar—The Condition 
 of Affairs in 1864—We are Assigned to the 
 19th Corps—Fighting Early in the Shenan¬ 
 doah Valley—A Rebel Captain’s Successful 
 Scheme. 
 
 The forty-two days of fighting, burrowing and 
 beseiging around Vicksburg were drawing to a 
 close. Then came that memorable day, when 
 every loyal man felt it to be a high privilege to 
 be called a citizen of the United States. It was 
 indeed the fete-day of the Nation, made memor¬ 
 able by the splendid victories which crowned 
 the Union arms at Vicksburg, Gettysburg and 
 Helena. All over the North the ringing of thou- 
 sands of loyal bells sounded the death-knell of 
 the bogus Confederacy. From that 4th day of 
 July, 1863, the fate of the Confederacy was 
 sealed. On that day 47,500 rebel prisoners, 
 headed by Lieutenant General Pemberton, one 
 of the bravest and best of the Confederate com¬ 
 manders, marched out of their defenses at 
 
 29 
 
Vicksburg, stacked) their arms, and were 
 paroled as prisoners of war. The glorious Stars 
 and Stripes were already floating from the City 
 Hall in Vicksburg. The Mississippi River was 
 opened, the rebel armies were divided, their 
 western supplies cut off, and their cause from 
 that hour was hopeless. This was the most 
 disastrous defeat suffered by the Southern Con¬ 
 federacy. The flower of their western army 
 was destroyed and one of their best generals 
 rendered powerless by being a paroled prisoner 
 of war. The Mississippi River was cleared of 
 all obstructions, making it possible for Federal 
 gunboats to patrol it from Cairo to New 
 Orleans, so that the products of the North could 
 be shipped to all the river cities and towns. The 
 opening of the river also facilitated the ship¬ 
 ment of army stores and the communication of 
 the eastern and western armies. The helpless¬ 
 ness of their cause must have been apparent to 
 the leaders of the rebellion from the moment 
 Vicksburg surrendered to General Grant. The 
 common instincts of humanity ought to have 
 induced them to lay down their arms, disband 
 their armies, acknowledge the supremacy of the 
 Union, and thus avoid the farther effusion of 
 blood and the ravages of war. But as will be 
 seen, the bitter hatred and unrelenting malice 
 of the rebel leaders, civil and) military, pre- 
 
 80 
 
vented them from accepting the situation and 
 following the dictates! of reason. 
 
 After the fall of Vicksburg the 22nd Iowa 
 embarked for New Orleans, and from thence 
 was moved up the river to form a part of the 
 well-known Red River Expedition, under com¬ 
 mand of General Banks. At the close of that 
 expedition the regiment was again taken to 
 New Orleans and from thence to Opelousas, 
 Louisiana, where we spent some time in hunting 
 down and finally dispersing the desperate guer¬ 
 rilla bands led by John Morgan and Dick 
 Taylor. While at Opelousas it fell to our lot to 
 guard, at his own plantation, the rebel governor 
 of Louisiana. Previous to this time he had been 
 in the custody of the Provost Marshal of New 
 Orleans, but one of his daughters having died 
 at his home near Opelousas, the Governor had 
 been granted permission to return to his home 
 to attend the funeral of his child. Sorrow makes 
 all humanity a great brotherhood, which even 
 the stern necessities and exactions of war can¬ 
 not annul. Traitor to his government though 
 he was, yet the magnanimity of the Union com¬ 
 mander overcame all the obstacles, and thus it 
 was that this man was permitted to return to 
 his home for the purpose of kissing the silent 
 lips of his t beloved dead, and consigning her 
 remains to the grave. How many of our brave 
 
 31 
 
Union soldiers would have been glad to have 
 enjoyed the same magnanimous action of the 
 Confederate authorities in Southern prisons! 
 But alas! still greater privation and suffering, 
 if not death, would have been visited upon the 
 man who' would dare to make such a request. 
 Judge ye angels and men, between the right¬ 
 eousness of the two causes, as manifested in the 
 acts and dealings of tlieir leaders! 
 
 Having been appointed on the detail made 
 to guard the residence of the aforesaid Gover¬ 
 nor, and thus prevent him from violating the 
 terms of liis permit, it was my privilege to come 
 into personal association with his fallen Excel¬ 
 lency, and have frequent conversations with 
 him. During one of these conversations, I was 
 impressed with the fact that leadership, 
 whether civil or military, in the Southern Con¬ 
 federacy, was simply a question of who had the 
 most money and the largest political influence; 
 not who had the most brains, the best character 
 and the largest ability to discharge the duties 
 of the position. It came about in this Avay: 
 
 One day the Governor seemed to be unusually 
 communicative and an interesting conversation 
 took place between him, a comrade of the regi¬ 
 ment and myself relative to the war and the 
 difference between the value of the Greenbacks 
 of the North and the Confederate Scrip (or 
 
 32 
 
“Graybacks,” as we called them for short) of the 
 South. After our conversation on these topics 
 had ceased, lip asked us what regiment we 
 belonged to. My comrade answered, “The 22nd 
 Iowa Infantry.” The Governor dropped his 
 head and, as if speaking to himself, murmured: 
 
 “The 22nd Iowa—the 22nd Iowa.” 
 
 Then, looking up, and raising his voice to a 
 higher pitch, he asked this question: 
 
 “Let me see; what State is Iowa in?” 
 
 How would such an ignoramus, as that do for 
 Governor of Iowa? Yet, this man had been 
 elected to govern the great state of Louisiana! 
 He, one of the “chivalry” of the great South, 
 almost as ignorant as one of his own slaves, 
 upon whom he was trying to rivet the chains of 
 a criminal and perpetual bondage, was using all 
 the resources of his State, and the power of his 
 office, to prolong a bloody and wicked war. Had 
 he kept hisi mouth shut his extreme ignorance 
 and* disgrace might have been concealed, but 
 both were brought into view by his question. 
 
 Our campaigning in the vicinity of Opelousas 
 was so severe'—the regiment being engaged in 
 almost continuous lighting and skirmishing 
 during the summer and fall months — that our 
 numbers became so depleted we were ordered 
 back to New Orleans and from thence to Mata¬ 
 gorda Island, Texas, to recruit our wasted ranks 
 
 33 
 
and get ready for active campaigning in the 
 coming spring. 
 
 The year 1863 saw the closing up of the third 
 year of the war, of which, when the first guns 
 were fired, and the first troops were ordered out, 
 wise men, both North and South, predicted 
 would last only a few weeks, or months at most 
 —the men of the North having faith in the abil¬ 
 ity of the Government at Washington to crush 
 the rebellion before it got a foothold; while the 
 men of the South based their conclusions on 
 the universally cherished belief that one son of 
 the Southern chivalry could easily whip all the 
 way from five to ten Northern “mud-sills”—but 
 both were doomed to disappointment. And 
 now, with the dawning of 1864, while the vic¬ 
 tories and advantages were undoubtedly on the 
 side of the Union, yet the war was not ended, 
 and no man was found bold, enough to predict 
 when it would end. 
 
 However, important changes had taken place 
 in the leadership and disposition of the Federal 
 forces. General Grant, had been made Com- 
 mander-in-Chief of the Union armies. Assum¬ 
 ing the duties at once, lie selected liis subordi¬ 
 nate commanders and placed them in charge of 
 their respective Corps and Divisions. He 
 believed the time had come to make a clean 
 sweep of the Confederacy, and he resolved to 
 
 34 
 
do it. Richmond was his objective point, and 
 the same plan of campaign which had reduced 
 and compelled the surrender of Vicksburg was 
 selected for the capture of Richmond, and the 
 final crushing out of the Southern Confederacy. 
 General Sheridan was assigned to the command 
 of the 6tli, 8th and 19th Corps. He was ordered 
 to thoroughly reorganize these Corps and be 
 ready to co-operate with the army against Rich¬ 
 mond. The 13th army corps had become so 
 greatly depleted that it was not strong enough 
 to maintain a distinct organization, hence it 
 was ordered to Washington, to be consolidated 
 with the 19th corps. This was completed dur¬ 
 ing the summer of 1864, and in August Sheridan 
 was ordered to move down the Shenandoah 
 Valley, to co-operate with Grant in his final 
 blow against rebeldom. 
 
 When we reached Harper’s Ferry we found 
 the' rebel General Early’s forces engaged in 
 threshing grain, which the rich soil of the 
 Shenandoah Valley produced abundantly. Sher¬ 
 idan at once gave battle to Early, and succeeded 
 in driving him into Winchester, where a decis¬ 
 ive battle was fought, which resulted in a glori¬ 
 ous victory for Sheridan’s army. A number of 
 field batteries and many thousands of prisoners 
 were taken. Early then retreated to Fisher’s 
 Hill, where Sheridan again attacked him and 
 
 35 
 

 again routed him, driving him down the Valley 
 towards Staunton, the terminus of the railroad 
 leading into Richmond. Sheridan then fell 
 back to> Cedar Creek, completely destroying 
 everything in the Valley, leaving it so bare 
 that he remarked 1 , “If a crow should fly across 
 the Valley he would have to carry his rations 
 wit h him.” 
 
 Lee at once sent strong reinforcements to 
 Early, and in the early morning of October 19th, 
 1864, under cover of a dense fog, he attacked 
 Sheridan. Our army lay diagonally across the 
 Valley, the 6th corps on the right, the 8th corps 
 on the left and the 19th corps occupying the 
 center. At 3 o’clock in the morning the enemy 
 succeeded in surprising and capturing our pick¬ 
 ets, and thus succeeded in getting on the flank 
 of our army, where it lay until daylight before 
 making the general attack. A Confederate Cap¬ 
 tain conceived and executed the 'Scheme for the 
 capture of our pickets and the surprise of our 
 army, which would have done credit to a genu¬ 
 ine-born Yankee. The Confederate army had 
 been put in the lightest marching condition pos¬ 
 sible—everything that would in .any way 
 impede its movement, even to canteens, being 
 dispensed with—and in perfect silence it was 
 thrown across Cedar Greek, marched around the 
 mountain to the east of our line, and as far 
 
 36 
 
north as the center of the 8th corps, coining 
 into the Valley by a pass between two moun¬ 
 tains. Here the main army rested, while strong 
 detachments were sent forward to capture our 
 picket line, which was stationed just at the 
 mouth of this pass. From] some of the men 
 captured on the picket line they extorted the 
 countersign, which gave them easy access to all 
 the posts. A Confederate captain dressed in 
 the uniform of a Union officer, would go south 
 along our picket line as if to relieve the posts. 
 When challenged by the picket, “Who goes 
 there he would answer promptly in the 
 usual manner, “A friend with the counter¬ 
 sign,which he would give on further 
 demand. Then he informed each guard that 
 the army was preparing to move; that he 
 had orders as officer of the guard to bring in all 
 the pickets. Utterly ignorant of the scheme 
 that was being played upon them, our men did 
 not suspect the officer until they found them¬ 
 selves within the enemy’s lines and received the 
 surprising information that they were prison¬ 
 ers. In this treacherous manner all our picket 
 posts along the east side of the Valley were 
 captured, after which the Confederate army 
 was formed into line of battle ready to move 
 silently and swiftly up on Sheridan’s unsuspect¬ 
 ing troops. Early’s plan was first to attack our 
 
 37 
 
! t) U- 
 
 right wing, expecting that Sheridan would 
 move the left wing across the Valley, to the 
 support of the 6th corps, which would make it 
 an easy matter for Early to swing his army 
 across the Valley and thus completely surround 
 Sheridan, which would make the capture of his 
 army an easy and certain victory. 
 
 The close proximity of the enemy led Sheri¬ 
 dan to observe the greatest caution in all his 
 movements, and in order to guard against sur¬ 
 prise lie had issued orders that one corps of his 
 army should be under arms and in line of battle 
 every morning from 3 o’clock until daylight. On 
 this memorable morning the 19tli corps were 
 routed out at 3 o’clock, drawing from the men 
 much grumbling and many remonstrances 
 against the outrage which was thus perpetrated 
 upon them by depriving them of the sleep they 
 so much needed, because, so far as they could 
 see, there was no enemy near, and they consid¬ 
 ered the whole arrangement a piece of foolish¬ 
 ness. Poor fellows! they little knew how near 
 Hie death-dealing guns of the enemy were to 
 them at that moment, and that ere long many 
 of them would take their places in that line of 
 battle for the last time. 
 
 38 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A Dream and a Rude Awakening—The Battle 
 of Cedar Creek—-Out on the Skirmish Line— 
 Captured by the Rebels—Our Army Driven 
 Back—Sheridan Arrives and Whips Early— 
 Our Suspense—Start Southward—Suffering 
 Begins'—Robbed by Rebel Guards—Yankee 
 Sharpers. 
 
 Just asithedrums were beating the “long roll” 
 that morning I was in dreamland. I dreamed 
 that I was in a large three-story brick building 
 in which I was wandering around in a dazed 
 condition, but could find no way out of it. I 
 tried to open the doors but they would not yield 
 to my frantic efforts. One after another I tried 
 the windows, but with no better success. I 
 
 thought I could see across the valley, and on the 
 opposite side were great heaps of bread, but I 
 was- powerless to free myself from the awful 
 depths of that building to go to it. Finally, 
 after a long time, during which I became wild 
 with fear and faint with hunger, I found a door 
 which was standing ajar. I pushed it open, 
 walked out and started towards the bread, but 
 
 39 
 
before I reacheu _ became very thirsty. Then 
 I began to search for water. I soon found a 
 stream and lying flat on the ground began to 
 drink. I thought I drank the stream dry. Just 
 at this moment I was 1 awakened by the roll of 
 the drums, the orders of the officers and the con¬ 
 fusion of the men as they once more fell into 
 line. I then laughed at the remembrance of my 
 dream, but the time was not far distant when 
 all the minutiae of that dream became vastly 
 too real in my experience—too terrible for 
 laughter. It is said that “dreams go by contra¬ 
 ries),” but my dream is one instance which had 
 an almost literal fulfillment, so literal and real 
 that the memory of what followed, even as I 
 write these words, almost chills the blood in my 
 veins. 
 
 Daylight having come and no enemy being in 
 sight, we had just stacked arms preparatory to 
 getting breakfast, when, to our surprise, firing 
 commenced on our right wing where the 6th 
 corps was in position. The approach of the enemy 
 was so stealthy and the attack so unexpected, 
 that but few of the men in that corps were out 
 of their beds. The 19th corps sprang for their 
 arms and awaited orders. General confusion 
 prevailed all through the army. It soon 
 became apparent that, for the present at least, 
 the 6th corps was the center of attack. Major 
 
 40 
 
General Wriglit, who was in command of the 
 Union forces, came riding along the line of the 
 19th corps and at once ordered a detail of sharp¬ 
 shooters to deploy across the valley to the east 
 and if they found no enemy to go south until 
 they were tired on, or until they uncovered the 
 enemy’s position. I was one of that detail of 
 sharpshooters who started that morning on our 
 perilous reconnoissance. We marched in silence 
 eastward to the base of the mountain, when, to 
 our dismay, we were in the very presence of the 
 rebel army and heard the ominous order, “Sur¬ 
 render!” Knowing the great responsibility 
 which rested upon us for the safety of the army, 
 and knowing that to surrender then would be 
 equivalent to surrendering our forces to the 
 enemy, and with almost certain death staring us 
 in the face if we did not surrender, we chose 
 the alternative of death by firing into the ranks 
 of the enemy, almost at point blank range. The 
 rebels returned our fire with deadly effect, and 
 those who were not killed were speedily cap¬ 
 tured. But the single volley we fired told Gen¬ 
 eral Wright that the enemy was near at hand. 
 
 The battle now began in dead earnest. Our 
 right wing was driven back and the main attack 
 was then made against the center of the 19th 
 corps, which succeeded in holding the enemy in 
 check until the 6th corps fell back and took posi¬ 
 tion in the line. In this first attack we lost 1300 
 
 41 
 
prisoners and 28 pieces of artillery. Onr army 
 was driven back about a mile. General Wright 
 was severely wounded but remained on the field 
 and directed the movements of his army during 
 the terrific assaults of the enemy. No men ever 
 fought more bravely, but for the time being 
 they were fighting against odds which they 
 could not overcome. General Wright had suc¬ 
 ceeded in reforming his line of battle, when 
 General Sheridan, hatless and covered with 
 dust, dashed up on his famous black charger, 
 now covered with white foam. The presence of 
 Sheridan inspired the army with new hope and 
 courage and turned, what seemed to be a crush¬ 
 ing disaster to the Union army, into a glorious 
 victory. This great achievement of wringing 
 victory out of the very jaws of defeat, in that 
 eventful battle with Early, added new laurels to 
 the fame of General Sheridan, and will live in 
 history long after the great commander, and his 
 famous black horse, have ceased to live. 
 
 Two newspapers, one published in the South, 
 the other in the North, improved the peculiar 
 circumstances of that battle, especially the fact 
 of the early hour in which it began, to make it 
 the occasion of some sharp and witty sparring. 
 The Atlanta Constitution took occasion to say 
 in its report of the battle: 
 
 “It is still a true saying, that; the Early bird 
 
 42 
 
SHERIDAN AT CEDAR CREEK. 
 
 43 
 
gets the worm.” 
 
 To which the St. Louis Globe-Democrat 
 responded: 
 
 “The Early bird gets the worm, and he also 
 gets his Phil.” 
 
 It fell to my sad lot to be one of the sharp¬ 
 shooters captured, as already stated. We were 
 at once hurried to tire south side of Cedar Creek 
 where we were corralled with many others, and 
 from which point we could see all the move- 
 men ts of the contending armies, until our forces 
 had been driven out of sight. The reader may 
 perhaps be able to imagine the anguish we felt 
 in seeing our brave boys driven before the fierce 
 assualt of the desperate enemy. And as the 
 cannonading grew fainter and fainter, we knew 
 that our army was being beaten, if not entirely 
 destroyed. This was a dark hour for the pris¬ 
 oners, but an hour of triumph for the rebels, 
 who took great delight in tantalizing us—boast- 
 that in a short time they would capture the 
 entire Yankee army. However, we retorted by 
 telling them it was “a long lane that had no 
 turn,” and they would find lots of fighting Yan¬ 
 kees there in the woods that were not yet, and 
 would not be whipped. I remember one little 
 upstart of an officer who was blowing around 
 what they had done, and what they would do 
 with us, “barn-burners'” and “thieves,” as they 
 
 44 
 
were pleased to call us. Comrade D. W. Con- 
 nely, of my Company, told him he had better 
 be up with his army, as they would need him 
 before the battle was over. This enraged the 
 little dandy and he threatened to shoot Con¬ 
 nelly for insulting an officer, but his threats had 
 no effect upon the brave man, who told him he 
 had better reserve his 1 ammunition for the Yan¬ 
 kee army, for without a doubt they would be 
 coming back that way about noon, as they had 
 left their cooking utensils in the morning and 
 would be back to get them to cook dinner. 
 
 At this time fully twenty per cent, of the 
 rebel army were engaged in the work of pillag¬ 
 ing our camps. Our men were compelled to 
 leave everything when the battle began. The 
 6th and 8th corps were routed out of bed and a 
 large number of the men succeeded in getting- 
 only their guns and cartridge boxes, hence, the 
 rebel foragers and stragglers' had a rich field 
 from which to gather spoil. After they had 
 looted the camps they came to the prisoners and 
 began a wholesale robbery of those helpless 
 men, taking from us our best clothes, money, 
 valuables and every metallic article we had 
 about us, “as memorials of the Yankees.” While 
 this was going on, Captain W. W. Morseman, of 
 my Company, together with others, were 
 brought in as prisoners. He had on a very 
 
 45 
 
good pair of boots, which soon attracted the 
 attention of a rebel Major, who walked up to 
 him, and ordered him in the most insulting 
 language, using the foulest and most villianous 
 epithets, to “get out of them boots.” Captain 
 Morseman began to remonstrate with him, tell¬ 
 ing him that he had been captured while on 
 duty with a detail guarding private property, 
 and thought that such treatment should not be 
 visited on him. The Major pulled out a revol¬ 
 ver and told him to dry up and get out of them 
 boots, or he would make a pepper-box out of 
 him, adding, he supposed he was there for the 
 purpose of burning the property. Captain 
 Morseman reached him the boots and informed 
 the rebel Major that if he had it to do over again 
 he would burn the property and also the old 
 hypocrite who lived in the house. 
 
 About 3 o’clock in the afternoon the tiring 
 began to grow more distinct. The tide of battle 
 was evidently drawing nearer and nearer to us. 
 The canonading was plainly heard, and as it 
 became more distinct to our wide-open ears, and 
 fast-beating hearts, messengers began riding 
 hither and thither, and we could read in the 
 very countenances of the rebel soldiers, the glad 
 tidings that the rebel army was in full retreat 
 before the Union forces. This fact inspired 
 within us a joyous hope that an opportunity 
 
 46 
 
might be given ns to stampede, sieze and throt¬ 
 tle our guards, break through the lines and fight 
 our way back to freedom. But this we found to 
 be impossible. The.firing became more distinct, 
 and in a short, time we could hear the rattle of 
 musketry. All was confusion and excitement 
 among the rebels who were about us. Con- 
 nely asked some, of them what was up over 
 there in their army, adding, “It is about time 
 our boys were coming back to dinner.” Soon 
 we could see the rebels coming from every direc¬ 
 tion at a break-neck speed. Orders were given 
 to move the prisoners toward Staunton. We 
 were at once formed in line with guards all 
 around us, and we|re soon on our way south. 
 Despondent and discouraged as we were on 
 account of our own deplorable condition, we 
 were rejoiced to see the rebels in full retreat 
 before our victorious troops. We could hear 
 our guards inquiring of those who had left the 
 front, how the battle was going. They were 
 told, and we heard it with unspeakable joy, that 
 it was such a stampede as is rarely witnessed. 
 The fighting was kept up all the day, Early 
 making his escape under cover of the night. 
 The loss of my regiment in this battle was fifty- 
 two killed and wounded and twenty taken 
 prisoners. 
 
 The terrible truth began to dawn upon us that 
 
 47 
 
APPEARANCE WHEN CAPTURED, WEIGHT l8l POUNDS. 
 
 48 
 
we were destined for one of those awful prison- 
 pens of the South, of which we had heard so 
 much. Visions of Andersonville, with all its 
 horrifying terrors, haunted us by day and 
 troubled us during the night. We continued to 
 march until about midnight when we were 
 halted, and weary, hungry and heart-sick we 
 threw ourselves on the ground for a few hours 
 rest and sleep. Several of the prisoners were 
 wounded, but able to travel. After lying on the 
 cold, damp bed of earth, they became so sore 
 that when they arose they could scarcely move. 
 Next morning, October 20th, we were ordered 
 to fall into ranks. I remember one poor fellow 
 whose wound pained him so severely that he 
 moaned piteously and begged them to shoot him 
 and thus put an end to his sufferings. Another 
 man who was; unable to move because of his 
 wounds, was left lying on the ground. I do not 
 know what became of him, but: as he was lying 
 near the road, I suppose he was picked up by our 
 troops, if he was not dispatched by the rebels. 
 
 The rout of the rebel army being complete, 
 we were in ranks very early and resumed the 
 retreat southward. An attempt was made by 
 the prisoners for the purpose of making an 
 . attack on our guards, hoping thereby to throw 
 them into confusion, during which we could 
 disarm them and make our escape. We had 
 
 49 
 
reason to believe that our army was still in pur¬ 
 suit of Early and if once at liberty it would be 
 an easy matter to rejoin our own troops, but 
 before our plans were perfected, the guards, in 
 some way, became apprised of our purpose. 
 Immediately the guards were reinforced and 
 orders were given strictly forbidding any pris¬ 
 oner, under any pretense whatever, to leave the 
 road. This order was accompanied with the 
 cheerful information that any man violating it 
 would be shot down in his tracks. The guards 
 marched in parallel lines! with the prisoners, 
 about twelve feet away, and so close to each 
 other that it was impossible, without courting 
 immediate death, to make any attempt to 
 escape. About noon, while still marching, one 
 of the prisoners fell asleep and stumbled. In 
 catching himself, to keep from falling, he stag¬ 
 gered outside the road-line and realizing the 
 danger he was in, started to get back into ranks, 
 but before he could do so, a guard thrust a bay¬ 
 onet into his arm, making an ugly and very pain- 
 ful wound. This cruel act convinced us that 
 the villianous rebels meant to do all they had 
 threatened, and were only too anxious to find an 
 excuse to execute their murderous designs. 
 
 Many hours having passed since we tasted 
 food of any kind, we were becoming faint and 
 weak from hunger. The marching was exceed- 
 
 50 
 
ingly difficult and painful. We were required 
 to inarch two and two, in closed ranks, and as 
 we went on, the road seemed to get narrower, 
 making it exceedingly difficult for men who 
 were tottering from physical weakness and 
 weariness, to keep within its limits as we were 
 required to do under penalty of death. As we 
 approached Staunton the thievish propensities 
 of our rebel guards began to> develop more 
 shamefully. Not satisfied with the robbery 
 they had already practiced upon us, they now 
 began to strip us of what little we had left. 
 Blankets, shoes, hats, and everything else they 
 coveted, were taken from us at their own pleas¬ 
 ure. Connely and myself had each a blanket 
 and a piece of tent cloth, and during one of our 
 halts we rolled the two pieces of shelter-tents 
 together as closely as possible, then wrapped 
 one of the blankets about them. The second 
 blanket we mutilated as much as possible, with¬ 
 out entirely destroying it, to make it appear 
 worthless in the eyes < of our covetous friends. 
 This we wrapped around the good blanket and 
 pieces of tents, in such a way as to make it 
 appear as worthless as possible—in fact, a veri¬ 
 table specimen of “hard-scrabble,” which even 
 a rebel-thieving guard would scorn to pick up. 
 By this sharp bit of Yankee ingenuity we suc¬ 
 ceeded in deceiving the Johnnies, and saved our 
 tents and one good blanket which I have always 
 
 51 
 
£ 
 
 felt was the means of saving lour lives during 
 the long months of exposure and hardship 
 which followed. But this was not all. We saw 
 that the rebels took an especial fancy to the hats 
 and shoes worn by the prisoners, and whenever 
 an opportunity offered they did not hesitate to 
 appropriate them to their own use. My witty 
 comrade, Connely, did not relish the idea of 
 entering Staunton in such an undress condi¬ 
 tion as he would be if he was hatless and shoe¬ 
 less, so he improved the first opportunity he had 
 to cut holes in his hat and in the uppers of his 
 shoes, thus mutilating them so badly that the 
 rebels would not want them. When one of the 
 guards discovered what he had done, he asked 
 him why he had cut his shoes in such a manner. 
 He jreplied: “So they will not hurt my feet in 
 walking.” He then asked him why he had cut 
 such large holes in his hat. He again replied: 
 “To give a free circulation of air, so my head 
 will be cool.” However, his answers, while very 
 ingenious, did not undeceive the rebel. He knew 
 why he had mutilated them and emphasized 
 that knowledge by furiously cursing him and 
 threatening to put a hole in his head that would 
 be more effective in keeping it cool than the 
 holes lie had cut in his hat. After the guard 
 got tired cursing him and left, I said to Con¬ 
 nely, “Your Yankee genius has saved your hat 
 
 52 
 
and shoes, but it has brought curses down upon 
 your head.” “Yes,” said he, laughing, “but to 
 be barefoot and bareheaded would be worse than 
 his curses.” 
 
 53 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 Our Second Night in Captivity—Encouraging(?l 
 Announcement from a Drunken Rebel—Con 
 nely in Danger—Hungry and no Food—A 
 Generous Comrade—More Robbery by the 
 Guards — Richmond — Southern Deviltry •— 
 The Brutality of Rebel Soldiers—Libby 
 Prison. 
 
 About sundown we were halted for the night, 
 more faint with hunger and weary from march¬ 
 ing than ever. Not a bite of anything have we 
 had since about 4 o’clock of the morning of the 
 19th, and even that meal was scanty, having 
 been cut short by the opening of the battle. 
 Our march has been over a dry and dusty road. 
 The rebels appropriated all our canteens, so we 
 have been unable to get a drink of water, only 
 as their good pleasure saw fit to grant us the 
 boon, which was very seldom. Before Connely 
 and I had retired for the night an officer cpe 
 through the corrall where we were herded, and 
 began a tirade of abuse against the prisoners, 
 ending it with declaring the awful punishment 
 the Confederate authorities intended to inflict 
 
 54 
 
upon us for burning the Valley. He said we 
 would be put in Libby prison, and if Jeff. Davis 
 did not order it burned down, he would set fire 
 to it himself. That was the punishment we 
 deserved and he would personally see to it that 
 it was meted out to us in all the length and 
 breadth, height and depth of its just propor¬ 
 tions. Great is Southern chivalry!—especially 
 when full of whisky and in the presence of help¬ 
 less prisoners. After this encouraging announce¬ 
 ment of the awful doom which awaited us, he 
 commenced talking about the war in general, 
 and expressed his opinion that, instead of 
 disaster they were now winning an overwhelm¬ 
 ing victory. Connely made bold to ask him 
 how long he thought they could hold out? His 
 answer was: “Until h—11 freezes over.” Oon- 
 nely then asked him why they stripped our dead 
 on the field of battle, and the prisoners they 
 captured? His explanation was, because the 
 Federal army could get clothing from foreigr 
 countries, “but,” said he, “our government is 
 shut off and can’t negotiate with foreign pow¬ 
 ers; consequently we are compelled to rob the 
 dead and prisoners to clothe our armies.” Con¬ 
 nely repeatedly emphasized the words, “Our 
 Government, Our Government! Why,” said he, 
 “you have no Government, nor will you ever 
 have one.” This so enraged the drunken officer 
 
 55 
 
MY CHUM, D. W. CONNELY. 
 
 56 
 
that he pulled out a revolver and snapped it at 
 Connely, but it failed to go off, and while he 
 was making ready to try it again, I shoved Con 
 nely in among the crowd of prisoners, where he 
 was soon lost from his would-be murderer. Had 
 it not been for the failure of the rebel’s pepper¬ 
 box to fire, I fear my brave, but somewhat rash, 
 chum would have been killed. I ventured to 
 suggest to Dave that he had better keep a pad 
 lock on his mouth when he was talking to a 
 drunken rebel officer, but he only laughed and 
 said, “I am like a woman, bound to have my 
 say, let the consequences be what they may.” 
 
 We lay down for the night, and rather than 
 
 run the risk of exposing our good blanket and 
 
 pieces of tents we did without them, although 
 the night was very cold and we suffered a great 
 
 deal. Forty-eight hours have now passed since 
 we had anything to eat, and from all appear¬ 
 ances we are likely to go forty-eight more in the 
 same condition. Our sufferings are indescrib 
 able.. 
 
 October 21st. Another dreary, dismal, toil¬ 
 some day has dawned. Nature is robed in all her 
 matchless beauty; the air is sweet and balmy; 
 the woods are musical with the songs of bird? 
 and fragrant with the perfume of myriads ol 
 beautiful flowers. But even the beauty of 
 Nature fails to minister hope, comfort and 
 
 57 
 
strength to weary, hungry men who are on their 
 way to weeks and months of still greater priva¬ 
 tion, and suffering. The early morning saw us 
 again in our accustomed places in the line, 
 ready to take up our march. We received the 
 usual instruction to keep the middle of the road. 
 Here we received the first encouraging informa¬ 
 tion wehavehad since we were captured, namely 
 that when we reached Staunton we would receive 
 rations. This was indeed, joyful news and had 
 a tendency to raise our spirits and inspire us 
 with new hope. But even that humane 
 announcement was accompanied with the unhu- 
 mane one, “You ought, not to have any; you 
 justly deserve to starve to death.” Well, that 
 might be their opinion, for which we did not care 
 a fig, because we knew they were too cowardly 
 to put it into execution. We reached Staunton 
 between 9 and 10 o’clock in the morning. I 
 was so nearly exhausted I at once sat down to 
 rest. According to the promise made us, they 
 
 undertook to issue rations to the prisoners, bui 
 
 % 
 
 such confusion prevailed that they failed to do 
 it decently and in order. It was a time when 
 might prevailed, and men—hungry, famishing 
 men—forgot the sacred rights ofj those who 
 were equally hungry and worthy. The cracker 
 barrels were rolled among the crowd and the 
 strongest got the lion’s share. I saw the awful 
 
 58 
 
struggle which was going on among the hungry 
 men to reach the food, goaded on to desperate 
 efforts to get all they could, not knowing when 
 they would get any more. Weak as I was, I 
 concluded it was useless for me to struggle with 
 that crowd, and choose to starve rather than 
 run the risk of being trampled to death. While 
 viewing the scene of confusion with disgust, and 
 yet with pity, Connely, noble fellow that he was, 
 approached me with a handful of crackers, 
 which he promptly divided with me, saying, “It 
 is, equal to a cyclone to get into such a conflict 
 as that.” We ate the crackers, which were of a 
 very poor quality, but, kind reader, do not imag¬ 
 ine for a single moment that we did not relish 
 them. No meal that I had ever eaten in the 
 past was eaten with such relish and enjoyment 
 as those spoiled crackers, which composed our 
 dinner in thef city of Staunton, Virginia, about 
 the hour of noon of October 21st, 1864, after a 
 fast lasting from the early morning of the 
 19th, during which interval we had been march¬ 
 ing hard all day and lying on the bare ground at 
 night. We were not so particular about the 
 quality as we were anxious about the quantity 
 of the food, for the quantity was just about sufld- 
 • cient to aggravate our appetite and tantalize us 
 with the memory that up yonder in “God’s 
 country” “hard tack and sow bosom” were 
 plenty and to spare. 
 
 59 
 
After we had finished our first meal as guests 
 of the Southern Confederacy, and while we were 
 waiting for coffee and cigars to come (in which 
 expectation circumstances beyond the control 
 of our generous hosts, doomed us to disappoint¬ 
 ment), we were loaded into stock cars and were 
 soon speeding on our way to visit the Honorable 
 Jefferson Davis, President of the Southern Con¬ 
 federacy, in the celebrated city of Richmond. 
 Old Jeff, presumably not knowing that so many 
 of us were( on our way to visit him, failed to send 
 palace hog cars enough for our comfortable 
 transportation, hence, we were crowded until 
 there was scarcely room to stand with comfort. 
 After being loaded into the cars new guards 
 took charge of us. This change was made the 
 occasion for a new onset of pillage and robbery 
 of the already twice-robbed prisoners. These 
 new guards seemed to be of a higher-toned order 
 than the other fellows. While they would not 
 hesitate to take anything they could find loose, 
 or could succeed in unloosing, yet money-- 
 Greenbacksi, Gold, Silver—seemed to be their 
 principal game. Not finding much of that 
 article among the prisoners, they soon fell back 
 on what few hats, coats, shoes, etc., were left- - 
 in many instances the villainous scoundrels 
 taking even the photographs of our loved ones 
 at home, which, of course, were of no use what- 
 
 60 
 
ever to* them, only as it helped to make their 
 torture of helpless men the more bitter and 
 unbearable. Those of the prisoners who chanced 
 to have money resorted to every means they 
 could invent to save it.Some hid it in different 
 parts of their clothing; some under the soles of 
 their shoes; others would take a bill, chew it up 
 so that it would pack closely 1, then lifting the top 
 off a brass button would deposit it there, replace 
 the cover, fastening it down carefully so as not 
 to attract attention, hoping in this way to save 
 it. But, alas! as will be seen farther on, even 
 this Yankee trick failed to escape the sharp 
 eyes and greedy maws of the rebel thieves. 
 
 About 2 or 3 o’clock in the afternoon we 
 reached Richmond, were unloaded and formed 
 into ranks preparatory to being reviewed by the 
 citizens who had been apprised of our coming 
 and were anxious to inspect the Yankees. While 
 undergoing the critical scrutiny of these excel- 
 lent(?) citizens of the Confederacy, and every 
 moment expecting cards of invitation to 1 Sine 
 with his royal nibs, President Davis, we were 
 ordered to march—and march we did. We con¬ 
 tinued our march through the city until we 
 reached a large three-story brick building, on 
 one corner of which was a sign which read: 
 
 “LIBBY AND SONS, SHIP CHANDLERS 
 AND GROCERS.” 
 
 61 
 
We then awoke to the /realization that we 
 were about to enter that infamous place of 
 torture known as “Libby Prison.” 
 
 On our march from the depot to the prison 
 we were escorted by two lines of Richmond citi¬ 
 zens, embracing all sexes, ages and classes, each 
 and every one of yvhom were doing their very 
 best to entertain us with such choice and 
 encouraging words as these: 
 
 “Say, you Yankee sons of b-s, what 
 
 you’uns want to yun off our niggers for?” 
 
 “Oh, is these the kind of brutes that has come 
 down here to kill our noble sons?” 
 
 “Say, Yank, where is your arms? Ho, you 
 bluebellies, where is the rest of you’uns?” 
 
 The women would hiss at and spit upon us, 
 and ask us if we ( would burn down Richmond as 
 we did the Valley? While on this eventful 
 march, we found one woman whom we took to 
 be a friend—she was either that ,or a vicious 
 foe, whose scheme to poison us, if she had such 
 a scheme, failed. This woman reached out a 
 loaf of bread to Connely, who was nearest to 
 her, which he readily took. Oliver Crocker, of 
 Company “I,” remarked to him, “Connely, that 
 bread may be poisoned.” Connely replied, “All 
 right, Crocker, to die by poison is preferable to 
 starve to death, and a good deal shorter and 
 
 62 
 
pleasanter route to go out on.” He broke the 
 loaf of bread in three pieces, giving one piece 
 to Crocker, one to me, keeping the third piece 
 himself. He said, “Let us eat it; if it kills us it 
 is poisoned; ,if it does not kill us we will give the 
 woman credit for being a friend to the Union 
 soldiers.” We ate( it and still lived, so the 
 woman was undoubtedly a friend to the men 
 who had fought bravely, were captured and now 
 suffered all manner of torture and insult from 
 these devils in human shape. 
 
 When we arrived at Libby Prison we were 
 ordered to march in, at the same time receiving 
 the encouraging and helpful information that 
 we would “catch h—11” before we got out of 
 there; that we were to be roasted for burning 
 the .homes over defenseless women’s heads in 
 the Valley. Our devastation of the Valley 
 seemed to' be the uppermost thought in the 
 minds of - both soldiers and civilians, and fur¬ 
 nished the excuse for all planner of insults and 
 threats of vengeance from men, women and chil¬ 
 dren. As the last of our column was marching 
 in through the wide door way, Charley Bowen, 
 a member of Company “K,” of my regiment, 
 being the last one, was seized by the shoulders 
 by a] great, big, burley .specimen of humanity, 
 jerked back and ordered to> pull off his jacket 
 and trousers, or he would shoot him on the spot. 
 
 63 
 
At this moment, another guard stepped in the 
 doorway ahead) of him, thrust his bayonet 
 at him, and ordered him to obey. There 
 being no relief for him he was forced to 
 comply with this fiendish order. , He was then 
 pushed inside the door of that infernal! prison, 
 with not a vestage of clothing on him but nis 
 shirt, drawers and socks—his shoes having been 
 taken from him before he reached the 
 prison. To make his condition the more pitiable, 
 winter was approaching and no covering of any 
 kind to protect him from the cold days and 
 nights which were sure to come. With all these 
 facts before us, who will dare say that the 
 Union soldiers were engaged in fighting chival¬ 
 rous and brave men? No, no! We were fight¬ 
 ing fiends in human form—things having the 
 semblance of men, but who were guilty of deeds 
 so atrocious and inhuman that devils would 
 blush for shame. 
 
 64 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 i 
 
 Robbed Again—Unsuccessful Attempt to Hide 
 Our Money—Prison Rules—Corn Dodger at 
 Last—Thoughts of Home—A Sleepless Night 
 —Gray backs Galore, and Dirt Supreme—The 
 Prison Doctor—Plans for Escape—A Shot 
 Fired, but no Harm Done. 
 
 After we were safely inside the prison walls, 
 about a dozen rebel officers came in and divided 
 up our batallion, ordering one-half to take the 
 second floor, and the other half to occupy the 
 third floor, at the same time placing guards at 
 the stairway leading to the third floor. When 
 this arrangement was completed, a rebel officer 
 stepped in front of our division, with a revolver 
 in his hand, and ordered us to fall into two lines 
 across the building at the same time announcing 
 that any man who would attempt to secrete 
 any money or other valuables he might possess, 
 or who would refuse to obey any orders that 
 should be given him, would be shot down like a 
 dog. After our lines were formed as he had 
 directed, we were next informed that we must 
 
 65 
 
turn over all the money and valuables we had; 
 that he would take down our names, the name 
 and number of our regiment and company, and 
 when we were exchanged, all valuables would 
 be returned to us. After the money had been 
 turned over, they then began to search our cloth¬ 
 ing. Every button was subjected to the closest 
 scrutiny and every one that had the least appear¬ 
 ance of having been opened was cut off, the 
 owner being asked if he had a twenty or a fifty 
 dollar bill inside of it. Those whose shoes were 
 left to them had those articles so closely 
 inspected that only one man in all our number 
 s ucceeded in saving his money—a five dollar 
 bill which he had in some way hid in his shirt 
 collar. While this plundering was going on, 
 one of our bbys told the officers if they would 
 set up their headquarters nearer the front they 
 would stand a better show of obtaining more 
 plunder, although it would be a little more dan¬ 
 gerous over there; that “to the victor belonged 
 the spoils,” or at least, they seemed to be work¬ 
 ing on that system, as robbers number one and 
 two had had the lion’s share from us, leaving 
 but little for them to take. After they had 
 finished going through our division, they went 
 up stairs and repeated the same mode of plun¬ 
 dering the boys there, until every dollar of the 
 money which they had thus, far succeeded in 
 
 66 
 
keeping, had passed into the possession of our 
 enemies. One man on the third floor had a $20 
 Confederate bill. He told the plundering officer 
 that was all the money he had. The officer 
 looked at him in a pleasant way and said: 
 
 “If that is all the money you have, you may 
 keep it, poor fellow.” 
 
 We well knew his kindness was not inspired 
 by any love he had for the “poor fellow,” but 
 because he knew the miserable bill was not 
 worth taking. 
 
 But, kind reader, do not judge these Confed¬ 
 erate robbers too harshly! Let us all be chari¬ 
 table in our judgment of even such light-fingered 
 gentry as these were. Perhaps, after all, they 
 were doing us a kindness by compelling us to 
 practice lessons of economy. They did not want 
 us to spend our money foolishly, or squander it 
 in riotous living. But, unfortunately for us, 
 they took the entire matter of guardianship into 
 their own hands—we did not have a single 
 voice in the selection of who should be the cus¬ 
 todians of our wealth—we did not have even the 
 right of veto. We were all tumbled into 
 “innocuous desuetude.” Mind you, dear, inno¬ 
 cent reader, they sought to quiet our fears, and 
 alleviate our pain, as we saw seam after seam 
 ripped open, patch after patch torn off, shoe 
 after shoe dissected, button after button uncov- 
 
 67 
 
ered, and the precious “greenbacks^ which they 
 contained, and upon which we had built such 
 high hopes of comparative comfort, transferred 
 to the pockets of these the meanest of all rob¬ 
 bers, by telling us, on the honor of gentlemen (?) 
 that, the very moment we started towards home 
 again, all our money (they did not promise to 
 pay us loan-brokers’ interest), would be 
 returned to us again. But, alas! few, if any, of 
 those noble, brave, heroic sons of the Confed¬ 
 eracy who had thus, unsolicited, and out of 
 pure benevolence, become our guardians for the 
 ent when, what few of us who lived to return, 
 started homeward. And we who did survive 
 the terrible ordeal, were magnanimous enough 
 toward our southern guardians not to demand 
 a return of our money, because their banks, at 
 that time, were in sore financial straits—in fact 
 they were badly and irretrievably busted. We 
 love our southern guardians—indeed we do. 
 May their breed never again rise up to curse the 
 earth and pollute the land. 
 
 After they had completed their work of rob¬ 
 bery, they then kindly informed us concerning 
 the rules and regulations of the Hotel de Libby. 
 One was, that to indulge in the simple and inno¬ 
 cent privilege of putting an arm outside a win¬ 
 dow, or to stand with our face near a window, 
 was an invitation for a minnie ball, which 
 
 68 
 
would be sure to come from the rifle of a guard. 
 With these, and some other friendly (?) sugges¬ 
 tions, they left us, stating we would probably 
 get a bite to eat before night, but, as they were 
 short just now on account of our burning the 
 Valley, we must put with what we got, and be 
 thankful for it. To all of which we responded 
 “Amen!” and bade our dear guardians “good 
 night.” 
 
 Our first morning in Libby Prison w T as 
 gloomy and discouraging enough. Nearly fam¬ 
 ished with hunger—our only food since the 19th 
 being the few damaged crackers we got at 
 Staunton; our money all appropriated by the 
 rebel officers; our clothing all gone—some being 
 left with nothing but their underclothes—over 
 half of our number hatless, shoeless and blan¬ 
 ketless, and all this robbery haying been carried 
 on upon helpless prisoners, by men who pro¬ 
 fessed to be waging a war for human rights, 
 the love of liberty and the glory of God—well, 
 it is enough to make one cry out, as did the 
 spirit in Jean Paul Richter’s Dream, “Is there 
 no God?” We soon learned that among the 
 authorities of the Confederacy there are no men 
 —only fiends. 
 
 About sundown the long-looked for rations 
 came, conspicuous only for their scantiness. 
 This evening’s repast, as issued to us by the 
 
 69 
 
prison authorities, consisted of a piece of corn 
 bread about three inches square, and not to 
 exceed one and a half inches thick. On this we 
 feasted thankfully—and rapidly. It did not 
 take us long to finish supper that night. Brutus 
 asked concerning the corpulency of. Causer: 
 
 “Upon what meat doth this our Oaeser feed 
 That he hath grown so fat?” 
 
 Confident we are that unless our rebel hosts 
 become more generous in our rations of meat, 
 both in quantity and in quality, no latter- 
 day Brutus will ever be troubled with such a 
 question. 
 
 Being very weary, Connely, Crocker and 
 myself laid down for the night with the hope of 
 getting some sleep, which our poor iaded bodies, 
 weary minds and sickened hearts needed so 
 much, but my own mind was too much 
 engrossed with perplexing things to admit of 
 sleep. My thoughts went homeward to beloved 
 ones who were there. No doubt by this time the 
 news of the great battle and my capture by the 
 rebels had reached the ears of my dear wife, 
 who was even then mourning for me as dead. 
 To have let her know the true situation in which 
 I was then placed would be to her worse than 
 death. I tried to console myself with the hope 
 that she would remain ignorant of my suffer¬ 
 ings, and would continue to pray for my release 
 
 70 
 
and return. But relief did not come from those 
 musings. Memories of my aged father, my 
 brothers and my only sister, came thick and 
 fast. They, too, would soon learn that I was 
 listed among the “Missing,” and in their sorrow 
 and despair would look upon the darkest side 
 and consider me dead. But would honorable 
 death on the battle-field present a “darker side” 
 than the insults, the wholesale robbery, the 
 cruel and unnecessary sufferings to which I, 
 with my noble comrades, had already been sub¬ 
 jected, and were yet to come? No—a thousand 
 times, No! Death would have been as a bright 
 summer morning radiant with the glory of the 
 sunshine, beautiful as a garden of roses, in com¬ 
 parison to the conditions under which I was 
 then placed. The darkest picture that the 
 human mind could possibly paint, might have 
 been taken from that first, sad night in Libby 
 Prison, as we lay on its rought, hard floor, 
 weary, and famishing with hunger, trying to 
 drown our sorrows in blessed sleep—which 
 would not come. 
 
 That was one of the longest nights I ever 
 lived. I could hear the guards walking their 
 beats, and commenting on “the catch of fresh 
 fish” which they had succeeded in bringing in. 
 But gloating as they were over our capture and 
 misfortunes, they were not happy over their own 
 
 71 
 
position by any means. The battle in which we 
 had been captured brought no joyful tidings to 
 them. They could not understand how it hap¬ 
 pened that Early allowed his army to be so 
 badly whipped after he had routed the Yankees 
 in the morning and driven them so many miles 
 towards Washington. One of the guards con¬ 
 fided his opinion of the affair to another guard 
 in the following expressive language: 
 
 “I don’t see how Early could get himself 
 
 whipped so d-d bad after such a glorious 
 
 victory in the morning!” 
 
 One of our boys who was standing at a win¬ 
 dow and overheard this choice bit of conversa¬ 
 tion, yelled out: 
 
 “Say, Johnnie, I can tell you; Sheridan just 
 came from Winchester and lie turned the battle 
 against Early! No flies on Phil, I tell you!” 
 
 This retort dried up the conversation between 
 the rebel guards about the “fresh fish” and 
 Early’s defeat in the Yalley. 
 
 With the close of a long, weary, because 
 sleepless, night, came the dawning of the 22nd 
 of October, 1864, and the fourth day of my cap¬ 
 tivity in rebellion. Life is still sweet, but the 
 hunger which is gnawing like the grinding of 
 two mill stones, with no wheat in the hopper, 
 is exceedingly bitter. There is one favor, how¬ 
 ever, for which we are truly thankful, we have 
 
 72 
 
plenty of good water. A daylight survey of the 
 building in which we have taken up our resi¬ 
 dence for an indefinite period of time, reveals 
 some conditions which are not so easily discov¬ 
 ered after night. For instance, I find that it is 
 in an exceedingly dirty condition. Evidently 
 the chamber-maid forgot to bring her brooms, 
 or, perhaps, chamber-maids and brooms have 
 ceased to be a part of the retinue of Libby 
 Prison. Then, that peculiar species of “song 
 birds,” or, more scientifically speaking, “scratch¬ 
 ing birds, “known to the orinthology of south¬ 
 ern prisons as “Graybacks,” are very numerous 
 and seem toibe as voracious as the human “gray¬ 
 backs” who robbed and insulted us without let 
 or hindrance. As between the two, the original 
 “Grayback” is very much more of a gentleman 
 than his human counterfeit. 
 
 About 10 o’clock this morning breakfast was 
 served consisting of the regulation corn bread, 
 the pieces being a little larger in length and 
 breadth, but somewhat skimped in thickness, 
 they being about four inches square and one 
 inch thick, so taking the actual number of 
 square inches in each piece, there was a slight 
 advance over the rations of yesterday evening. 
 Still the increase was scarcely sufficient to make 
 any appreciable improvement in their ability to 
 satisfy the demand. I am now determined to 
 
 78 
 
make as muck of a royal feast out of this piece 
 of “dodger” as I can. Therefore, I select my 
 position. I sit down by an upright post in the 
 middle of the building, first of all 'spreading out 
 my blanket which I imagine to be the easy 
 cushion of a sumptuous dining hall chair. Then 
 I regulate the size of my bites, not according to 
 the craving of my stomach, but according to 
 the size of my piece of “dodger” in ratio to the 
 vacuum it is destined to fill. I chew very slowly 
 —not wishing to impair my digestion—in fact I 
 try to keep each bite in my mouth as long as 
 I can, but the law of gravitation inside of me 
 seems to be so strong that it is all I can do 
 to keep the bread in my mouth long enough to 
 get the taste of it. However, dear reader, I 
 must say that this ration of corn bread tastes 
 sweeter to me than any I ever ate in all my life 
 before. I wish there had- been more of it to 
 relish. 
 
 About noon the prison doctor came in to make 
 his daily round of the different rooms. The 
 man who was stabbed in the arm with the rebel 
 guard’s bayonet, before we reached Staunton, 
 is suffering a great deal from his cruel wound. 
 He belongs to an Ohio regiment. The arm is 
 terribly swollen and it is very painful. The 
 doctor gave him some liniment to put on it. Hd 
 seems to be a kind-hearted man, and freely con- 
 
 74 
 
demned the guard for his brutality in stabbing 
 the man under the circumstances. There are 
 quite a number of sick men in the prison but 
 the doctor is doing his duty, and honoring his 
 profession, by doing all in his power for their 
 relief. It is comforting to find one man belong¬ 
 ing to the Confederacy who has not, as yet, 
 become dehumanized. It is to be hoped this 
 man will escape the contagion of brutality 
 which seems to be so universal among the civil¬ 
 ians as well as soldiers of rebeldom. 
 
 A drowning man is said to catch at straws. 
 The more desperate and hopeless one’s situa¬ 
 tion, the more vivid and active are one’s mental 
 anticipations of relief from distressing condi¬ 
 tions.. So with the prisoners in Libby. We 
 know that we are confined within the strong 
 walls of an immense building from which escape 
 seems to be impossible. We know that we are in 
 the clutches of a cruel and relentless foe who 
 will not only guard every avenue of escape, and 
 visit the most bitter and condign punishment 
 upon any who dare attempt such a hazardous 
 feat,—a foe who will close his ears against ah 
 appeals for such treatment as honorable prison¬ 
 ers of war are entitled to, as well as against all 
 proposals of the United States Government for 
 a just and speedy exchange of prisoners, his pur¬ 
 pose being to torture the prisoners of the Fed- 
 
 75 
 
eral army, whom he has failed to kill in battle 
 —yet, notwithstanding the hopelessness of our 
 situation, the all-absorbing topic of our conver¬ 
 sation by day, and of our dreams at night, is 
 either exchange or escape. But our pleasant 
 dreams were brought to a sudden awakening by 
 one of the guards shooting at a man whose arm 
 was protruding through the bars of the win¬ 
 dow. He was holding in his hand a handker¬ 
 chief which he had washed and was trying to 
 dry by holding it outside the window. Fortun¬ 
 ately the guard’s aim was not good and the ball 
 sped wide of its mark. This act told us. that all 
 hopes of parole or exchange from such a foe, was 
 not to be entertained. 
 
 When we were marched into the prison, all 
 commissioned officers were taken from the ranks 
 and put in a part of the prison by themselves, 
 but we were ignorant of their whereabouts. 
 This evening two Confederate officers came into 
 our room and ordered all commissioned officers, 
 if any were present, to step to the front, but as 
 none obeyed the order, the officers were satis¬ 
 fied there were none present. 
 
 I have already stated that we had breakfast 
 about 10 o’clock, A. M. We waited patiently 
 and hopefully for dinner, but none came. We 
 then looked forward with eager expectation to 
 the supper hour, being satisfied to accept two 
 
 76 
 
meals a day, if we could not get three. But the 
 supper hour came and passed and still no wait¬ 
 ers hearing platters of food appeared. The 
 truth then began to dawn upon us that the 
 Hotel de Libby was a kind of sanitarium, in 
 which they served only one meal a day, and that 
 very scanty in quantity, and not much to brag of 
 jn quality. 
 
 Night is again coming on and I shudder at its 
 approach. Not many weeks, or even days, ago 
 I welcomed it with gladness because it brought 
 rest to the body, peace to the mind—a blessed 
 recuperation of all the mental and physical 
 powers. But now, instead of sweet, restful 
 sleep, the long and dreary hours of the night are 
 spent in thinking of home and the loved ones 
 there whose hearts are bleeding because of the 
 uncertainty which surrounds my fate. And I 
 am not alone. As I look into the sad and hag¬ 
 gard faces of the comrades about me, I know 
 that but few men in Libby Prison are free from 
 the harassing thought which drives “sleep 
 from our eyes and slumber from our eyelids.” 
 
 77 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Our Rations, of Dodger Decreasing—Faulkner 
 Must Lose His Arm—Jeff Davis and Lee 
 Visit the Prison—Rumors of Exchange—Our 
 Sufferings on the Increase—“Why Does Out 
 Government Let Us Stay Here?”—Change of 
 Doctors—An Irishman’s Retort—A Great 
 Calamity; Our Tobacco all Gone—The Phil¬ 
 osophy of Gray backs—Poor Food and Not 
 Much of It. 
 
 The morning of October 23rd was ushered in 
 with a cold drizzling rain. The most absorbing 
 feature of our prison ,are the multitudes of gray- 
 backs, whose principal business is to draw all 
 the vitality from our poor bodies. This is their 
 principal and continual occupation during the 
 hours of the night, but when daylight appears 
 they skedaddle, like their human prototypes, the 
 rebels, for their hiding places, from which they 
 watch our movements and prepare for a more 
 vigorous assault when night again throws her 
 mantle of darkness over the earth and thus 
 hides their movements. 
 
 78 
 
About 11 o’clock the squad of men to whom is 
 entrusted the distribution of our daily rations, 
 was ordered tol the door to receive our corn 
 dodger which, in quantity but not in quality, is 
 about the same as yesterday. While the rations 
 were being distributed, one of our men made 
 bold to ask a rebel guard if he could tell him 
 anything about our chances for being 
 exchanged or paroled, pr about how long he 
 thought we would remain guests of this hotel. 
 He received the polite and characteristic 
 answer: 
 
 “You’uns will have to stay here until h—11 is 
 froze over, and you might as well keep quiet 
 about it.” 
 
 Our rations were divided as usual, and, as 
 usual, are just enough to aggravate, but not 
 appease our appetites. The quality this morn¬ 
 ing is not as good as it has been, the cook 
 having allowed the bread to bake heavy and 
 soggy—scarcely more than half baked—but it 
 is licked up with a voracity which cares little for 
 such trifling accidents. This morning we were 
 compelled to admit there was one man in Libby 
 Prison, wearing the Union Blue, who is mean 
 enough to disgrace it, and render himself despic¬ 
 able in the eyes of all the prisoners, by his 
 thievish conduct. While the rations were being 
 distributed, one man came down from the divis 
 
 79 
 
ion up stairs, stood in our line, and got a ration 
 of bread which did not belong to him, thus 
 leaving one man of our own number without 
 any. The fellow had gone back before we found 
 it out, so the rest of us divided our share with 
 the poor fellow^ who was cheated out of his 
 scanty ration. We vowed among ourselves that 
 we would guard against such rascality in the 
 future. 
 
 The doctor did not make his rounds toda\ 
 
 until after 12 o’clock. One of our bovs was 
 
 taken very ^ick and the doctor had him removed 
 
 to the hospital, which is across the street but a 
 
 little south of this building. Faulkner, the man 
 
 with the wounded arm, is very bad to-day. The 
 
 doctor expressed his fears that the arm would 
 
 have to be amputated to save his life, gangrene 
 
 having set in. , The more we get acquainted 
 
 with the doctor the better we like him. He is 
 
 kind and gentlemanly in all his bearing toward 
 
 us. He freely and candidly answers our eager 
 
 questionings concerning the probability of our 
 
 exchange or parole, but is unable to give us any 
 
 reliable information on the subject. Although 
 
 % 
 
 disappointed in our expectations of receiving 
 some encouragement and hope from liim, yet we 
 feel grateful for his kindness and appreciate the 
 generosity of his treatment. 
 
 Thisi afternoon we were treated to a rare 
 
 80 
 
privilege, nothing less than a sight of the high 
 dignitaries of the Confederacy. His royal “nibs,” 
 President Davis, accompanied by his staff and 
 the famous General Robert E. Lee, commander 
 of the rebel army, rode by our prison, looked up 
 at the windows, and seemed to take great 
 delight in seeing the fine catch they had already 
 made. From all appearances they were well 
 satisfied and rode away. 
 
 This evening a ray of hope beamed in upon 
 ns by a rumor circulated through the prison 
 that we were to be exchanged, but the longer 
 we tried to hunt up the authority for the rumor, 
 the fainter became the trail, until it was lost 
 entirely and we were compelled +o fall back 
 upon the cheerless task of trying to hope 
 against hope. 
 
 October ( 24th. This is a beautiful morning. 
 The sun is shining brightly and doing his best 
 to dispel the gloom from our hearts by flooding 
 our prison with glorious sunlight. How bright 
 and beautiful the world which lies outside our 
 barred windows looks to our weary, longing 
 eyes! But what a chill comes over us as we 
 turn our eyes from the world outside to the 
 smaller, but none the less conscious and sensi¬ 
 tive world inside the prison walls. What mys¬ 
 terious changes have taken place during the past 
 few days. Only six days ago we were reveling in 
 
 81 
 
plenty to eat, and the joy of association under 
 honorable and fraternal, even if they were dan¬ 
 gerous conditions. Now, this is all changed. 
 Separated from companions, weak and famished 
 with hunger, in the clutches of a foe so cruel and 
 inhuman that they seem to take supreme delight 
 in torturing and insulting us. They meant very 
 much more than they expressed, when they told 
 us they were going to starve us to death here. 
 How Jong can mortal flesh endure this agony? 
 
 Our rations were served to us again as usual, 
 quantity and qaulity being about the same as 
 yesterday. When the doctor came this morning 
 he was) besieged on every side by men eager to 
 gain any information he was able to give them 
 on the all-absorbing subject of exchange. He 
 received our importunities with great patience 
 and kindness, but the only response we could 
 elicit from him was: 
 
 “Cheer up, boys! cheer up, boys!” 
 
 This was all he would say, but the way in 
 which he said it led us to believe he knew more 
 on the subject than ,he dared tell us. After visit¬ 
 ing the sick he ordered Faulkner to go with him 
 to the hospital, his arm having become very 
 much worse. This visit of the good doctor, and 
 the peculiar manner in which he. expressed him¬ 
 self, has sent new blood coursing through our 
 veins and brought new hope into pur lives. 
 
 82 
 
Some of us feel that that there must be some 
 meaning* in the look .of his face, the flash of his 
 eye and the tone of his voice, while others say 
 they are only trying to awaken within us false 
 hopes for fear that we will become mutinous 
 from desperation and hunger. Of course every 
 man has his own views of the situation, and 
 does not hesitate to speak freely what is in his 
 mind. 
 
 The question often arises as to why our gov¬ 
 ernment allows us to remain here, subject to 
 such torture as we are enduring? Is it possible 
 that we are to be thus rewarded for all that we 
 sacrificed when we responded to the Nation’s 
 call for help in the hour of her peril? It must 
 be that President Lincoln is entirely ignorant 
 of the treatment we are receiving as prisoners 
 of the rebel Government, because if he was 
 apprised of the real facts he would either order 
 the Union armies concentrated and Richmond 
 crushed at a single blow, or else he would see 
 that we were exchanged at once. No, no! That 
 greathearted man in the White House at Wash¬ 
 ington would not allow his boys to perish from 
 starvation at the hands of a relentless foe. Oh, 
 this tortue from hunger and vermin makes life 
 a burden which cannot be endured much longer! 
 We cannot rest by day nor sleep by night. The 
 walls and floors are literally packed with 
 
 83 
 
vermin. They cover our clothing, they till our 
 hair. They, too, are prisoners; hungry as we 
 are; like us in every respect, except this, that 
 while they can and do feed upon us, we cannot 
 feed upon them. 
 
 October 25th. Another night, long and lone¬ 
 some, has passed, and another day (to be) long 
 and dreary has dawned. I had a dream last 
 night, full of pleasure, but its atvakening was 
 full of pain. I dreamed that I was at home. I 
 could see it in all its ,comforts and beauty, just 
 as I had left it the day I started to the “front.” 
 My wife was getting supper. I could see every 
 movement she made and everything she did, as 
 plainly and vividly as sight itself could make it. 
 I thought to myself: “Now I will have one good 
 meal—farewell hunger and pain!” But, alas! 
 just as wife said, “Supper is ready!” and I went 
 to my old place at the table, I awoke to find 
 myself in a veritable rebel hell, hungry, weary, 
 and with every bone in my body aching, while 
 the graybacks were fighting for what: little 
 blood is yet left in me. While I lay on my back 
 meditating on the future, -a ray of consolation 
 came to me in this way: If our rations do not 
 increase our flesh will soon be gone, and then 
 our enemies, the graybacks, will have to starve 
 as well as we. O revenge, how sweet thou art! 
 
 A great calamity has befallen the prisoners, 
 
 84 
 
both tsick and well—our kind-hearted, humane 
 doctor has been taken away from us, and in his 
 place has come a young, dapper, dandyish fel¬ 
 low, evidently endowed with about as much 
 brains as a third grade of army mules. He puts 
 on lots fit professional airs; tries hard to look 
 wise, but fails to make us believe that his 
 wisdom is equal to his vanity. One of the boys 
 so far forgot himself in the presence of this 
 medical prodigy as to run the risk of asking him 
 if he could tell us how long we would have to 
 stay in this prison? He drew himself up to the 
 full height of his stature and replied: 
 
 “That, sir, will depend on how long your con¬ 
 stitution will stand it.” 
 
 A little Irishman, belonging to a New York 
 regiment, replied: 
 
 “Say, doctor, if you will furnish us with a ket¬ 
 tle to boil these graybacks in, and some salt to 
 season them with, we will be here to scatter 
 flowers on your grave—bedad we will, sir,” 
 
 This raised quite a commotion, which was fol¬ 
 lowed by such a loud burst of laughter, that the 
 little dandy “piIll-bags” went flying out of our 
 room—no doubt swearing vengeance on us all. 
 
 • October 26th. Another day has dawned, and 
 the same routine of prison life has to be gone 
 over. About midnight we were aroused from 
 
 85 
 
sleep by a fire in the west part of the city. How 
 extensive it was we could not tell.. That It was 
 not very far from the prison we were sure, 
 because the light from the fire illumined the 
 interior as well as the exterior of the building. 
 We were cautioned by our guards not to get too 
 close to the windows. The prison authorities 
 evidently feared if the fire should spread we 
 would make a break for liberty. To prevent this 
 the guards were reinforced, and stringent orders 
 for our safe-keeping were issued. We were hoping 
 that the fire might prove to be extensive enough 
 to involve this part of the city, and seriously 
 threaten, if not actually destroy this old prison- 
 house, and thus give us a chance to escape, but 
 to our chagrin the fire was stopped before it got 
 under much headway. Our organization for 
 escape, if an opportunity offers, is now very 
 complete, and we were all on the watch for 
 some movement on the outside, to favor our 
 making a dash upon the guards, hoping, if once 
 outside the prison, to reach our lines, which we 
 knew to> be east of Richmond. At 2 o’clock all 
 was quiet and we went back to our hard beds. 
 
 A great calamity befell me this morning—I 
 took the last, chew of my tobacco. It is alt gone 
 and no means of getting another supply. None 
 but those who have undergone the experience 
 can tell what a solaceand comfort tobacco is to us 
 
 86 
 
who are enduring the tortures of prison life. It 
 really allayed the pangs of hunger, so that when 
 we were deprived of our tobacco we suffered far 
 more than we would Jiave done if our rations 
 had been cut short. The rations we received 
 today were short enough to satisfy the most 
 rigid advocate of abstemiousness. However, an 
 addition to the quantity was made in the way 
 of giving us a pint of what they called “bean 
 soup. 77 It consisted of one black-eyed pea and 
 two spoonfulls of worms in about a pint of 
 water. This is the “standard 77 bean soup of 
 Libby Prison. But we are losing much of the 
 fastidiousness which was such a marked char¬ 
 acteristic of our soldier-nature before we began 
 boarding at this “hotel. 77 We are now perfectly 
 content to adopt the doctrine that “what won’t 
 poison will fatten. 77 Hence, our anxiety is not 
 about quality but quantity. Whatever will help 
 to “fill up” is received with thankfulness and no 
 questions asked. When the life is being slowly 
 but surely starved out of a man, anything, 
 even worms, that will cheat the destroyer and 
 sustain life, is appreciated and vigorously 
 devoured. 
 
 • An old subject, in .somewhat altered form, has 
 appeared and is furnishing great opportunities 
 for the naturalists, “bugologists,” philoso¬ 
 phers, and other professionalists among the 
 
 87 
 
prisoners, viz: the history, including the 
 habits, origin, customs, propensities, capa¬ 
 bilities and general character of the “Gray- 
 back.” These discussions, and the organization 
 of regular campaigns for their extermination, 
 affird much amusement and serve to pass 
 away many of the dreary hours of prison life 
 in comparative forgetfulness. 
 
 October 27th. How slowly and drearily the 
 hours of the night through which we have come, 
 dragged by! The absence of my tobacco made 
 me sleepless and restless. I got up and walked 
 the floor until I became so tired that I again 
 laid down and fell into a kind of troubled sleep. 
 I would give all my personal interest in the 
 Southern Confederacy tor one plug of tobacco, 
 even though it be only a link of common 
 “twist.” Possibly good may come out of this 
 privation, after all. If I can only manage to 
 live through it, I may, by force of circum¬ 
 stances, come out of the ordeal a total abstainer 
 —even an anti-tobacco reformer. Who can tell 
 what fame and glory is in store for me here¬ 
 after? But, O dear me, what would I not give 
 for one good chew? 
 
 Our French cooks were rather slow in pre¬ 
 oaring our breakfast this morning, as it was 12 
 o’clock, noon, before rations were distributed to 
 us. The only striking thing about this late meal 
 
 88 
 
is that it was composed of a small quantity of 
 sour, soggy, half-cooked corn bread. We shall 
 be compelled to petition our hotel-keeper to dis¬ 
 miss these cooks and employ better ones if our 
 food ,is not more expeditiously and palatably 
 prepared. The rights of guests, as well as of 
 cooks, must be regarded with proper regularity, 
 or the Hotel de Libby will loose its reputation 
 as a first-class Jiostlery, and travelers through 
 this part of the Confederacy will shun it— 
 indeed, its present corps of guests would like to 
 have a chance to run away from it. 
 
 Our new doctor made his rounds again. The 
 dear man was late in coming. The whole Con¬ 
 federacy seems 1 to be getting into> the bad 
 habit of “slow movement,” except when Sheri¬ 
 dan is after them, when they move with 
 increased celerity. The doctor left a very little 
 medicine for some of the sick, while a great 
 many who needed medicine were left wholly 
 unsupplied. His excuse was that his supply of 
 medicine was so short he could give it only to 
 those who needed it the most. What a stain on 
 American civilization that even sick and help 
 less men are left to die without proper medical 
 aid! Did the world ever witness such inhuman 
 treatment as that bestowed by the rebel Govern¬ 
 ment on honorable Union prisoners? But the 
 day of vengeance is not far distant! 
 
 89 
 
October 28th. Our prison is all excitement 
 this morning. Men who were despondent and 
 ready to give up to die, have taken new courage 
 and feel that life is still worth fighting for. I 
 have determined not to “swear off” using 
 tobacco yet. The reason for all this commotion 
 and “backsliding” is that news has reached us 
 that we are to be exchanged. This time the 
 rumor seems to be well authenticated, our 
 informant being no less a personage than Major 
 Turner, Commander of Libby Prison. He told 
 us that negotiations for an exchange of prison¬ 
 ers were actually in progress, and there were 
 strong probabilities that in a few days we 
 would be sent within our lines. My soul is already 
 aglow with bright visions of plenty to eat and 
 plenty of—tobacco. Today our rations of corn¬ 
 dodger were devoured rapidly and thankfully. 
 Men could scarcely stop talking about the pros¬ 
 pective exchange long enough to eat. But there 
 are many who refuse to be carried away by the 
 rumor. They fear it is only a ruse of the enemy 
 to add to our torture by starvation and suffering 
 the keener and deeper anguish of disappoint¬ 
 ment. Another new doctor has made his 
 appearance among us today. This one is an 
 elderly man, and, J am glad to say, a different 
 man to the upstart whose place he has taken. 
 This one seems to be a gentleman, and treats us 
 with the consideration becoming his profession. 
 
 90 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Rebel Cruelty—Food only once a Day, and 
 Decreasing in Quantity—“No Exchange of 
 Prisoners”-—Guards Keep a Close Watch of 
 the Windows—Intense Suffering for Tobacco 
 —The First Death—The Awful Filth of Libby 
 Prison—Still Trying to be Cheerful—Gray- 
 backs Still on Top—Startling News; we are 
 to Leave Libby. 
 
 October 29th. The longer we remain in 
 prison the more we are learning the lesson that 
 our enemies take special delight in deceiving 
 us, by creating in our hearts hopes of exchange 
 and ■speedy release, which have no foundation 
 at all. This is one of the bitter lessons we have 
 to learn. It is so easy to get such rumors afloat 
 among men who dream of release by night and 
 pray for it by day. It is hard to believe that 
 human beings could be so cruel. Would-be phil¬ 
 osophers might say that, situated as we were, it 
 was foolish to put so much confidence in these 
 rumors. We ought to have known better than 
 to allow ourselves to be carried away by them. 
 
 91 
 
But it is the very circumstances under which we 
 were placed which made it so hard to control 
 our judgment. Intense desire for release is the 
 ruling power in the case. Anything which 
 gives us the faintest hope of being released from 
 this worse than living death,—this unceasing 
 succession of days and nights of indescribable 
 horror and suffering—is grasped at and cher¬ 
 ished with a spontaniety of feeling and belief 
 that is irresistible. But thus far our confidence 
 has been misplaced. Our expectations of being 
 exchanged have come to naught, forcing upon 
 us greater depression of spirits and hopeless¬ 
 ness of the future. These hopes and disappoint¬ 
 ments are beginning to tell seriously on the 
 health of a great many of the prisoners. Some 
 of these days the brittle thread of life will snap 
 with some of them. Who will be the first? 
 
 Our rations of dodger come regularly once a 
 day. The ration is constantly decreasing in 
 •size, but it has a corresponding increase in 
 weight. However, the increase in weight does 
 not indicate an increase in the nourishing qual-' 
 ity of the dodger—it simply indicates cupidity 
 and downright cussedness in the cooks. How 
 any one can make so small a piece of corn 
 dodger weigh so heavy is a problem that all the 
 scientific culture of the inhabitants of this 
 “School of Economy” have not been able to 
 
 92 
 
determine. But that which the mind cannot 
 grasp the stomach can feel to its fullest satisfac¬ 
 tion—of misery. 
 
 The doctor banished the last hope of 
 exchange from our minds this morning, by 
 informing us that the negotiations for an 
 exchange of prisoners between the two govern¬ 
 ments have failed. The latest rumor is that our 
 government has positively refused to exchange 
 any prisoners under any circumstances. This 
 is sad and distressing news, not only to us who 
 are enduring all the horrors of prison life, but 
 to the loved ones in our homes, who are endur¬ 
 ing agony almost as great, because of their anx¬ 
 iety concerning our fate. I am afraid this 
 shock, which is the severest of any we have yet 
 had, will be more than many of the poor boys 
 can survive. Is it possible that our govern¬ 
 ment is going to desert us and leave us to the 
 malignant cruelty of our enemies? It looks 
 that way to us. 
 
 I have already mentioned the fact that one of 
 the positive orders of the prison was, that no 
 prisoner should stand in close proximity to any 
 of the windows. This, rule the guards seemed to 
 take great delight in enforcing, because they 
 were always on the alert for an opportunity to 
 shoot one of the hated “Yanks.” At almost 
 any hour of the day they could be seen in atti- 
 
 93 
 
tudes of expectancy, with rifles cocked and 
 ready, watching the windows to find a man close 
 enough to give them a reasonable excuse to fire. 
 They were many times seen to go into the street, 
 many feet away from their regular beats, for the 
 sake of getting a shot, at a prisoner whose 
 shadow, even, might fall on the window, 
 although the man himself may have been, many 
 feet inside the dead-line. A prisoner, today, 
 received a bullet in his arm, while he was in the 
 act of throwing water out of a window. Another 
 was saved from death by a nail turning the 
 course of the bullet. When the matter was 
 reported to Major Turner, the prison com¬ 
 mander, he flippantly replied: 
 
 “The boys need practice.” 
 
 Such outrages as these are of daily occur¬ 
 rence from which we have no protection nor 
 redress. Will not God send both to such 
 cruelly-wronged men? 
 
 October 30th. Exchange stock is away below 
 par this morning, and the spirits of the prison¬ 
 ers have fallen in proportion. The quantity 
 and quality of our rations range from bad to 
 horribly bad. Our ration of corn bread is con¬ 
 tracting in size so rapidly, that a few days more 
 and all that will be left to us will be the memory 
 of the dodger that once came, but comes no 
 more. 
 
 94 
 
I wish I could give my readers a faint descrip¬ 
 tion of the stuff they are pleased to call “food,” 
 and which they give us to eat. As I have fre¬ 
 quently stated, it is composed entirely of corn 
 bread, distributed among us once a day. This 
 is every thing we have to eat. It is made out 
 of the poorest and roughest grade of corn meal, 
 large pieces of cob and husk being often found 
 in the bread. Sometimes it is not more than 
 half cooked; at other times, as to-day, the crust 
 is baked so thick and hard that it would make 
 a good substitute for grape-shot. Such is the 
 food upon which the chivalric (?) Confederacy 
 is feeding the prisoners it has captured in open 
 and honorable battle. 
 
 While exchange stock, vitality of spirits, hope 
 for the future, and our rations of corn dodger 
 are all going down, down, there is one commod¬ 
 ity that is constantly going up in price, but 
 slowly vanishing from the market, viz.: tobacco. 
 Every tobacco chewer—and they are legion—is 
 out of tobacco; not a chew to be had at any 
 price. We are a great company of “Reformers,” 
 the advance guard of the forces of anti-tobacco¬ 
 nists. But it is not because We “want to,” but 
 because we “have to.” I suppose we could buy 
 tobacco from the guards, if we had anything to 
 buy with, but our guardians—the men who took 
 our money into safe keeping—are so anxious to 
 
 95 
 
break us of this nasty habit, and perfect our 
 purification, that they will not replenish our 
 excliecquers, which are as empty as our tobacco- 
 bags. When I was a boy I used to hear the old 
 adage, “There is honor among thieves,” but we 
 have found there are exceptions to this rule as 
 well as to all others; at least we have found a 
 lamentable absence of honor among the class of 
 thieves into whose hands we had the misfortune 
 to fall on the morning of October 19th. And 
 the more we see of them, and the more we have 
 to do with them, the more we learn of their 
 thievish and disreputable characters. 
 
 To-day occurred the first death on our floor. A 
 young man belonging to a Pennsylvania regl-' 
 ment. He was not sick, but died from sheer 
 despondency. No words of encouragement and 
 cheer that we could utter served to revive his 
 poor broken heart. No man ever more surely 
 suffered martyrdom for his country than did 
 this young man. It is a great cost to pay. 
 Might not that life have been spared to do bet¬ 
 ter service for the country ? How many men 
 will have to follow this first one, God only 
 knows. 
 
 One thing which adds to the severity of our 
 sufferings is the absolute impossibility of main¬ 
 taining personal cleanliness. No effort what¬ 
 ever is made by the prison authorities to keep 
 
 96 
 
the rooms in anything like decent sanitary con¬ 
 ditions. The inside of this awful hell is so foul 
 and filthy that no pen can describe its true con¬ 
 dition. As I have already stated, it is overrun 
 with the vilest of vermin, and the floors are 
 encrusted with filth of every description. The 
 naked and starved men lie down at night on the 
 slimy floor, not to sleep, but to kill time, and 
 arise in the morning with hair and beard mat¬ 
 ted with the expectorations and filth of the day 
 previous. One old blanket, full of dirt and ver¬ 
 min, has to serve for the only covering of half 
 a dozen poor, naked sufferers, whose only 
 moments of quietude come with the semi-obli¬ 
 vion enjoyed in snatches of half delirious sleep, 
 on a bed whose mattress and pillows were all 
 of one substance—a hard, board floor, reeking 
 with filth. 
 
 Unpleasant though the subject may be, the 
 reader can better understand the conditions 
 under which we were compelled to live by day 
 and sleep by night, if I briefly describe the sani¬ 
 tary conditions of the prison. Here, more than 
 anywhere else, the barbarous and devilish char¬ 
 acters of the men who had us in their power is 
 manifest. Circumstances which they could not 
 control, may have made it necessary for the 
 prison authorities to keep us on short rations, 
 but no reason under the sun could exist why we 
 
 97 
 
should be compelled to live in the midst of such 
 reeking filth as existed in Libby Prison. There 
 was an abundance of fresh, pure water. The 
 prisoners" would have been glad of the oppor¬ 
 tunity to scrub and clean the floors as well as 
 our persons, but all this was wickedly denied us>, 
 for which there was not the shadow of an 
 excuse. It was done to add still farther to the 
 misery we were compelled to suffer by day and 
 by night. 
 
 The sanitary (?) arrangements were conspicu¬ 
 ous only for their great simplicity. Of water- 
 closets, there were none. A sink, made some¬ 
 thing like a large trough, is furnished for each 
 floor, and is free to all. The convenience of this 
 simple arrangement is admirable, and reflects 
 credit on the great men who conceived and exe¬ 
 cuted the plan, but the effect upon the sense of 
 common decency is simply abominable. Every 
 day an old darkey comes around and removes 
 the accumulations of filth. Following him 
 comes another parading through the building, 
 carrying an old coal hod filled with pine knots, 
 which he would set on fire, and the smoke from 
 which was supposed to fumigate the rooms and 
 kill the awful stench which filled the atmos¬ 
 phere of the prison. Comment on this is 
 unnecessary. 
 
 Notwithstanding these terrible conditions 
 
 98 
 
under which we were compelled to live, the 
 reader must not think that all the prisoners 
 were of a morbid, inconsolable turn of mind, 
 who did nothing but mope around, gradually 
 waste away and die for the want of something 
 better to do. Far from it. These cases were 
 the exception, not the rule. Never did men try 
 harder to devise ways and means for “killing 
 time” and making the dreary hours pass as 
 pleasantly as possible. We had lots of fun as 
 well as lots of sorrow. There was much loud, 
 ringing laughter, as well as much groaning and 
 weeping. Songs—love songs, patriotic songs, 
 humorous songs, plantation songs—often made 
 old Libby ring until the rebel guards would 
 wonder “What on airth them there renegade, 
 fool Yanks were a-doin.” Some men of lym¬ 
 phatic temperament were blessed with the abil¬ 
 ity to sleep from ten to eighteen hours a day, 
 and they were envied by those who were differ¬ 
 ently constituted, because sleep was considered 
 to be the most priceless blessing God could 
 bestow on men situated as we were. Those 
 whose temperaments were of a different char¬ 
 acter, and who could not render themselves 
 oblivious to their surroundings by sleep, devised 
 many ways to make life bearable. Some would 
 improvise checker-boards on the floor, and many 
 a hard-fought game of checkers was carried on 
 
 99 
 
in this primitive manner to the delight of the 
 spectators as well as of the participants. Others 
 would engage in the old game of “Fox and 
 Geese,” while others played and romped like a 
 lot of happy school boys on a. stormy day. Many 
 employed their time and skill in cutting their 
 names on the wood-work and brick-work, while 
 many exhibited the Yankee proclivity of whit¬ 
 tling from morning until night. Thus the days 
 were passed, and life in Libby Prison was lived. 
 
 Owing to a lack of proper food, the foul condi¬ 
 tion of the prison, and the want of medical 
 attention, the sick are rapidly increasing. The 
 types of disease are becoming so malignant, and 
 the danger of infection so great, that quite a 
 number were taken to the hospital to-day. One 
 of the men taken out was a peculiarly sad case, 
 his malady being insanity caused by the want of 
 tobacco. It is strange, but true. Do not laugh, 
 dear reader, when I sav that this privation is 
 felt more keenly than even the lack of food, and 
 causes greater despondency among the prison¬ 
 ers—that is,among those who have been accus¬ 
 tomed to the use of it. Blessed is the man (in 
 Libby Prison) who has never used, required, or 
 “hankered” after the weed. 
 
 November 1st. No change as yet in the value 
 of exchange stock. It is as low in Libby Prison 
 market as Confederate scrip is on the New York 
 
 100 
 
stock exchange. An order was read to us today 
 which recited that the Federal Government had 
 rejected all proposals made by the Confederate 
 Government for an exchange of prisoners; that 
 there would be no exchange whatever, and we 
 could now make up our minds to remain in the 
 Confederacy until the war closed. Hereafter 
 we might consider ourselves to be permanent 
 and distinguished guests of President Jefferson 
 Davis. When this announcement was closed, 
 some one remarked that we would soon be the 
 “extinguished guests of the Confederacy”— 
 which will certainly be the case if a radical 
 change in our treatment Is not made by our 
 hosts. 
 
 The question is on many lips, and throbbing 
 in many hearts, “Can it be possible that our 
 Government; the Government under whose flag 
 we enlisted, for whose defense we went into the 
 fire of battle, and for who-se sake we are now 
 enduring prison torture, will leave us here to 
 rot and die?” Surely the authorities at Wash¬ 
 ington are not ignorant of the awful agony we 
 are enduring—the living death by which we are 
 being slowly tortured? Many are utterly 
 broken down with despair, while others take a 
 more hopeful view of the situation, refusing to 
 believe the statements made to us this morning. 
 They continue to talk cheerfully and hopefully, 
 
 101 
 
and are free in expressing their opinion that 
 Turner lied for the purpose of increasing our 
 despondency, thusi making onr lot more hitter 
 and our lives more uncertain. Thank God for 
 the healthful effects of one cheerful, hopeful 
 soul. 
 
 Our scanty rations did not reach us to-day 
 until 2 o’clock P. M. They were smaller in 
 quantity, and no improvement in quality. We 
 suppose the alarm clock in the quarters of our 
 rebel cook failed to awaken that worthy digni¬ 
 tary, and hence the lateness of our breakfast. 
 But we are at a loss to account for the contin¬ 
 ued and gradual decrease in quantity. The 
 nights are becoming colder, and having little, if 
 any covering or clothing, we suffer a great deal 
 from the cold. Our condition is becoming more 
 deplorable every day. 
 
 November 2nd. Another long and sleepless 
 night has been passed and, m far as we know, 
 or can see, at the opening of the day, there was 
 nothing to break the monotony of our prison 
 life, or make the day more bearable than the 
 former days. We supposed our principal busi¬ 
 ness would be a call to make another concerted 
 attack on the great army of graybacks which are 
 constantly gaining reinforcements from every 
 quarter, and with the decrease of the vital fluids 
 in our bodies, are becoming more voracious and 
 
 102 
 
desperate. They are becoming as cruel towards 
 us as their human prototypes who are standing 
 guard over us. However, a great and an unex¬ 
 pected surprise came to us in the shape of an 
 announcement, which created quite a. commo¬ 
 tion in our ranks. It was, that as there is no 
 hope of an exchange of prisoners being effected, 
 and as the winter is drawing near, the rebel 
 authorities have decided to send us to a more 
 southerly location, as we suppose, for the ben¬ 
 efit of our health. To morrow at noon we are 
 to be marched out and transported to 
 some destination, at present unknown to us. 
 The most earnest pleading failed to induce the 
 rebels to tell us where they were going to send 
 us. The only answer we could get out of them 
 was, to be ready to move promptly at the hour 
 of noon to-morrow. After giving us these 
 orders the officers left us to wonder what it all 
 meant, and whither we were going. 
 
 Excitement runs high; many theories and 
 explanations are advanced, discussed and 
 decided. But one thing is certain to all of us, 
 the last hope of exchange has died out. The 
 prisoners are discussing the probabilities of our 
 destination, but not even the most hopeful and 
 sanguine have courage enough to suggest even 
 the possibility of exchange. The effects of this 
 loss of hope are indeed painful in the extreme. 
 
 103 
 
Those who have already given up hope have be¬ 
 come almost wild with despair, while those who 
 continued to keep the spark of hope alive, are 
 giving way to the awful strain under which they 
 have been living. Still there are some who are 
 even rejoicing that we are going to leave this 
 terrible place, hoping that we will receive better 
 treatment and be in the midst of more decent 
 and healthful surroundings, while others whose 
 natures are such that nothing can dismay them, 
 are encouraging us to cheer up, be brave and 
 bold, because under the very worst circum¬ 
 stances we can imagine, conditions cannot be 
 much worse than they are here. Therefore, 
 instead of complaining, we ought to be thank¬ 
 ful that Ave are going away from this living hell. 
 But who can tell what a day may bring forth, 
 or a change of location may mean? 
 
 There is not an uncomfortably large number 
 of prisoners confined in Libby Prison, owing to 
 the fact that its capacity is limited. Large 
 numbers are brought in here, but they are 
 allowed to remain only temporarily, they being 
 transferred to others prisons farther south. One 
 of the remarkable facts of our prison life is the 
 remarkably low rate of mortality which pre¬ 
 vails. Notwithstanding the wretchedness of 
 our surroundings, the lack of food and of medi¬ 
 cine, the death rate of Libby Prison is smaller 
 
 104 
 
than that of many other southern prisons. Of 
 course I am speaking of the relative death rate. 
 The deaths in Libby are numerous enough to 
 satisfy even the hellish desires of our enemies, 
 many hundreds of our brave and noble men hav¬ 
 ing died in the midst of wretchedness which this 
 feeble pen cannot attempt to describe. The few 
 who survived and still live, are able to bear tes¬ 
 timony to the martyrdom of our brave comrades, 
 imposed by rebel brutality, which so wrecked 
 their poor bodies that they were unable to 
 endure the strain, and so laid them down and 
 died. 
 
 This day has passed and not a morsel of food 
 of any kind has been given us to eat. Why this 
 is so is more than we can tell, but rebel inhu- 
 manitv can devise more hellish means of torture 
 than Satan himself. 
 
 105 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Raw Salt Codfish for our Rations—Terrible Suf- 
 feringon Account of Thirst—“Good-bye Libby 
 Prison !”—Orders to Shoot—The Start South¬ 
 ward—Permission to Drink from James 
 River—Sequel to My Dream of October 19th 
 —A Night of Unparalleled Suffering—Dead 
 Men in the Cars—Arrival at Salisbury 
 Prison—The Stockade—Terrible Sights— 
 Raw, Uncooked Corn Meal for Food. 
 
 November 3rd. About 10 o’clock this morn¬ 
 ing notice was served on the sergeants having 
 charge of the ration squads, that rations were 
 awaiting them. They promptly reported, and 
 soon returned with our day’s rations, consisting 
 of about one pound of uncooked, hard, dry, 
 salted codfish—this and nothing more. To eat 
 this terrible stuff we knew would create the 
 most intense suffering, but having gone nearly 
 forty-eight hours without a mouthful of any 
 kind of food, our hunger was so great that we 
 devoured it with the same relish, and in much 
 the same manner, that a ravenous wolf would 
 devour its prey. 
 
 106 
 
About 1 o’clock orders came to us to leave 
 Libby Prison. We were marched out with a 
 heavy guard completely surrounding us. To 
 show the spirit of the rebel authorities toward 
 the Federal prisoners in their power, the follow¬ 
 ing is a verbatim copy of the order received by 
 the guards who were to escort us from Libby 
 Prison: 
 
 “G. S. Military Prison, 
 
 Richmond, Va., Nov. 3rd, 1864. 
 
 Special Orders, 
 
 No. 3. 
 
 Sentinels are instructed to shoot down any 
 prisoners upon first attempt to escape. 
 
 Major Turner, Commanding.” 
 
 And well we knew that our inhuman guards 
 would be only too glad to find the least excuse 
 for obeying that brutal order. 
 
 As we were marched out of the prison, we 
 were formed into four columns, close marching 
 order, and then ordered to stand at “parade 
 rest.” In that exposed condition we stood for 
 over an hour. During this time we were 
 reviewed and interviewed by the hospitable(?) 
 citizens of Richmond, of both sexes, and, I 
 might add, of all colors. Some of these men and 
 women were just as venomous in their speeches 
 and actions toward us as they were upon bur 
 first arrival among them; but others, seeing our 
 
 107 
 
ghatsly appearance, almost naked, and so ema¬ 
 ciated, became more softened in tlieir speech 
 and humane in their actions. But we paid little 
 attention to either their venom or their pity. 
 
 At last the order, “Forward march!” was 
 given. Marching west, we crossed the Janies 
 Biver, and then turned south until we reached 
 the railroad depot. Here we were crowded into 
 cattle cars, and started southward—whither, no 
 one knows except those who have us in charge. 
 
 We now began to suffer most intensely from 
 thirst. The salt codfish which we had eaten for 
 our breakfast created a thirst which was ter¬ 
 rible. We had no canteens in which to carry 
 water, and no facilities had been provided by 
 the rebel authorities whereby }vater might be 
 conveyed to us in the cars. The prospect ahead 
 of us made the prisoners almost desperate. As 
 we crossed James Biver I was so thirsty that I 
 ventured to ask the guard to permit me to go 
 down the bank and get a drink. Strange to say, 
 he granted me the coveted favor. As I laid 
 down at the edge of the river to drink, as I sel¬ 
 dom, if ever, drank before, my dream on that 
 memorable morning of October 19th, already 
 related, came into my mind. Involuntarily, I 
 turned my face up stream and wondered if it 
 were possible that I was going to drink the 
 James Biver dry. I almost felt that my raging 
 
 108 
 
thirst would make me equal to the task, and 
 that I must do it before it could be 1 satisfied. The 
 only hindrance to my desire was the lack of 
 capacity to hold it all. If my capacity had been 
 equal to my craving desire, I should have swal¬ 
 lowed all the water and thus wreaked my veng¬ 
 eance on the city of Richmond by leaving it to 
 
 • 
 
 die on the banks of a dry river, and depriving it 
 of the protection of its great ironclads. What a 
 fine scheme that would have been! But, alas! 
 I could not accomplish it. I drank of the water 
 until I was in actual misery, and still my thirst 
 seemed to be as fierce as if I had not tasted a 
 drop. The torture of the hours following, no 
 pen nor tongue can describe. 
 
 About 5 o’clock P. M., our train started south¬ 
 ward, destination still unknown, and about 
 which we were not very greatly concerned. 
 Every train coming north to Richmond, and 
 there were many, had the right of way over our 
 train, which subjected us to not only many ted¬ 
 ious delays, but to a great deal of switching and 
 bumping. About 4 o’clock in the morning we 
 reached Greensborough, North Carolina. No 
 words can express the sufferings of that night. 
 Every car was packed as full of prisoners as it 
 could hold. There was scarcely room to stand, 
 none whatever to< lie clown. One door in each 
 car was closed, barred and bolted, while at the 
 
 109 
 
other door two guards were stationed, with guns 
 loaded and bayonets fixed, each man carrying in 
 addition thereto two large revolvers, having full 
 power and authority to shoot down any prisoner 
 w T ho made even a movement toward the door. In 
 addition to these guards, there were two cars 
 loaded with rebel troops, to be used against us 
 in case we made any attempt to escape during 
 the journey. That long and weary night can 
 never be forgotten by any of the unfortunate 
 men. The appeals for water would beggar 
 description. Men fairly frothed at the mouth. 
 Some of the prisoners begged .the guards to let 
 them get off at the. water tanks, many of which 
 we stopped at, pledging their most sacred honor 
 to return immediately after getting water, but 
 to all such piteous appeals the answer was: “It 
 is against orders.” 
 
 We had hoped that when we halted at 
 Greensborough we would be supplied with 
 water, but we were doomed to disappointment. 
 No one was allowed to leave the train until 
 after daylight, although a large water tank was 
 not more than one hundred yards away from us, 
 with plenty of good water in it. I want to 
 here record my profound belief that this terrible 
 night of torture was deliberately planned by the 
 rebel authorities at Richmond. Why did they 
 give us the dry, uncooked, salt codfish instead 
 
 110 
 
of the usual ration of corn bread which, up to 
 that date, we had invariably received? Why 
 did they allow us to go for forty-eight hours 
 without a bit of food of any kind before giving 
 us the salt codfish? Knowing that we had no 
 canteens, why did they not make some provis¬ 
 ion for furnishing us with water, or at least 
 allow us to procure it from the water-tanks at 
 which the engine pulling our train took water? 
 Could all this have happened by mere chance? 
 By no means! They knew what they were 
 doing, and it was a deliberate plan to torture 
 their prisoners, hoping that many of them 
 would go insane from the terrific thirst, and 
 would thus furnish an excuse for speedily dis¬ 
 patching them. 
 
 November 4th. About half past 6 o’clock we 
 were permitted to leave the cars and go to the 
 railroad water-tank and get water. Many of 
 the prisoners could not control their terrible, 
 devouring thirst, and drank to such excess that 
 they were injured for life. One man dropped 
 dead while in the act of drinking. Others 
 seemed to lose their reason and acted more like 
 maniacs than like rational human beings. 
 
 After we had finished drinking, a detail was 
 made to go through the train and carry out the 
 unfortunates who had died during the night. 
 Connely and myself were among the number 
 
 111 
 
detailed for this sad duty, and from the car in 
 which we rode we took out four dead men. The 
 sad, pleading eyes of the dead, together with 
 the cries of despair from the living, were scenes 
 that can never be effaced from memory. I did 
 not help bury the dead; in fact, I felt more 
 like being buried myself than assisting to bury 
 others. Thirteen dead men told how successful 
 were the cruel and devilish plans of our barbar¬ 
 ous captors during that first night ride from 
 Libby Prison towards our unknown destination. 
 Thirteen noble, honorable, brave soldiers foully 
 and premeditatedly murdered! God will hold 
 the wicked murderers responsible, and there 
 will yet come a day of accounting. 
 
 We were corralled here until about 10 o’clock, 
 when we were ordered to get into the cars 
 again. We are no longer in the dark as to our 
 destination, as it has been made known to us 
 that we are bound for the prison at Salisbury, 
 North Carolina. We reached that famous place 
 about 5 o’clock P. M. A cold drizzling rain was 
 falling. We were welcomed with shouts of 
 “barn-burners,” “thieves,” “robbers. “Now, we 
 will fix you. It will be a long time before you 
 burn any more barns. We will send you where 
 there won’t be any barns to burn!” As we 
 marched into the dismal place we became fully 
 convinced that suffering beyond the power of 
 
 112 
 
man to conceive was in store for us. We knew 
 that so far as our enemies could carry out their 
 threats they would do it. It has been said that 
 a cat cannot travel so far away from home but 
 the tail will follow it, and that man cannot go 
 so far away but liis record will follow him. So 
 it; seemed to us that “barn-burning” was our 
 supreme crime. We thought it must be 
 stamped on our faces, because wherever we 
 went these words greeted our ears, “Barn 
 burners!” 
 
 Salisbury Prison is a brick structure about 40 
 feet wide and 100 feet long , four stories high. 
 It was originally erected for a cotton factory. 
 In addition to the main structure, there were 
 four or five tenement houses adjoining. This 
 prison was first used for deserters from the 
 rebel army, violators of military orders, cut¬ 
 throats and criminals of all kinds. During the 
 early part of 1864 it was converted into a mili¬ 
 tary prison by building a stockade around it 
 and enlarging its area to about six acres. This 
 stockade was formed by setting pine logs in the 
 ground to a depth of about three feet and 
 extending about twelve feet above the ground. 
 They were boarded up and down, so as to make 
 a solid wall. On the outside of this enclosure, 
 and about hree feet from the top, a platform, or 
 walk^ was erected on which sentinels were 
 
 113 
 
placed about ten paces apart, and who walked 
 their beats, day and night. The guards had 
 orders to be on the alert and shoot down every 
 Yank who dared to cross the “dead-line,” or in 
 any way give the least provocation. This stock¬ 
 ade enclosed the large brick building and two 
 of the small tenement houses heretofore men¬ 
 tioned. At the northwest and northeast corners 
 of this stockade howitzers were placed loaded 
 and trained on the interior, so that in the event 
 of an attempted outbreak every portion of the 
 prison was covered, and the guns would scatter 
 death and destruction among the prisoners. 
 Along the east, west and north sides of the 
 stockade, about six feet in the inside a ditch 
 was dug about three feet wide and two feet 
 deep, forming wtoat was called “The Dead 
 Line.” Any prisoner crossing this line, whether 
 accidently or purposly, or even found leaning 
 against it, was shot down without warning. As 
 early as September, 1863, a few prisoners were 
 kept in this prison. In the early part of 1864 
 another building was erected, about twenty feet 
 wide and seventy or eighty feet long. It was a 
 frame structure and was used for hospital ser¬ 
 vice. This building was two stories high, poorly 
 ventilated in summer and very uncomfortable 
 in winter. The brick prison proper, the frame 
 hospital building, and a small building used as 
 
an office in the early days of the prison, supple¬ 
 mented by about six Bell tents, and six or seven 
 log huts, furnishes all the shelter we have. How 
 scanty these accommodations are the reader 
 can easily imagine when I state that, in addition 
 to the large number of Union prisoners, there 
 are also about 300 rebel convicts here, a large 
 proportion of them being from the very lowest 
 classes of humanity that ever disgraced the 
 earth. These convicts make the night hideous 
 by gathering together in squads, roaming over 
 the prison grounds, and wherever they find a 
 Union prisoner alone, overpowering him and 
 robbing him of his clothing, blanket, or what¬ 
 ever else he might chance to have, or that their 
 thievish propensities might covet. Their 
 method of robbery was to pounce on their 
 victim unawares, crush him to the earth, seize 
 him by the throat so that he could not cry and 
 make alarm, and' then rob him at their own 
 pleasure, after which they would hurry away 
 to their own wretched quarters, which has 
 already received the appropriate name, “The 
 Devil’® Den.” 
 
 -A 
 
 115 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 First Impressions of Salisbury Prison—Hungry, 
 but no Rations—Sleeping Under Difficulties 
 —An Adventure—Destitute of Clothing—Our 
 Rations Arrive—What Connely and I Saw— 
 Recruiting for the Rebel Army—The Dead 
 Wagon—Comrades Discovered—Better Shel¬ 
 ter—Stock Company Formed—We Prepare 
 Better Quarters—How We Dug Our Cave— 
 Drawing Rations Under Difficulties—New 
 Stockholders Taken In—Starving in the 
 Midst of Plenty. 
 
 On the 5th day of November, 1864, in the 
 midst of a cold, drizzling rain, we were marched 
 inside Salisbury Stockade to become a part, of 
 its wretched inhabitants. Our condition was 
 pitiable in the extreme. Not a mouthful of any 
 kind of food have we had to eat since we ate the 
 terrible ration of salt codfish in Libby Prison 
 two days before. We were wet to the' skin, and 
 so cold that I trembled like an aspen leaf. The 
 only way I could keep my teeth from chattering 
 was by holding them shut tightly together. In 
 
 116 
 
this condition I took a hasty survey of our new 
 quarters, but the more I saw of it the more its 
 unspeakable horrors were impressed on my 
 mind. I saw no relief for the present, and could 
 only anticipate increasing misery, want and suf¬ 
 fering for the future. Darkness coming on, the 
 terrible conclusion is forced upon us that we are 
 to lie down again without any food being fur 
 nished us to satisfy our awful hunger. Con- 
 nely and myself had been successful in keeping 
 our roll, consisting of a blanket, and two pieces 
 of shelter tents. These we divided between our¬ 
 selves, he taking the blanket and I the pieces of 
 tent; these we placed over our shoulders and 
 sat down in the mud, leaning our backs against 
 a tree. In this position I soon fell asleep, being 
 so wearied and exhausted that I could not keep 
 awake. I was soon roughly awakened from 
 sleep by some one violently pulling at the pieces 
 of tent with which I covered my shoulders. I 
 immediately took in the •situation and called to 
 Connely for assistance. He awoke and came to 
 my aid, and together we succeeded in beating 
 off the thief, who, seeing that we had the better 
 of him, fled in dismay. 
 
 November 6th. Our reinforcements filled the 
 • quota of Salisbury Prison to 10,321 men, besides 
 the 300 cut-throats and convicts already men¬ 
 tioned. Thousands are exposed to all kinds of 
 
 117 
 
weather, day and night, winter and summer. A 
 large majority of the prisoners have neither 
 blanket, overcoat, shoes or hat. Many were 
 reduced to only a shirt and pair of drawers. In 
 this forlorn condition the poor fellows burrowed 
 in the ground, and as long as there was room 
 
 crept under the buildings, while others went 
 
 * 
 
 through the cold, bleak nights in the open air, 
 lying on the muddy or frozen ground absolutely 
 shelterless. I have seen unfortunate men lie 
 down in the mud, fall asleep, and on awakening 
 would find their clothes frozen to the ground, 
 holding them fast as if pinioned to the earth. 
 To see these brave men suffering such untold 
 agonies, was a sight which, when once beheld, 
 could never be forgotten. 
 
 About noon we were counted off in squads of 
 about one hundred men to a squad. Each 
 ■squad was commanded by a sergeant, whose 
 duty it was to report the number of men under 
 his command, draw and divide their rations. 
 When our squad was organized and reported, 
 rations were issued to us, consisting of one pint 
 of corn meal, the cob being ground with the 
 grain. Having no facilities for cooking it in 
 any way, our only recourse was to eat it raw. 
 
 November 6th. This morning the sun is shin¬ 
 ing bright and beautiful. Oonnely and I took 
 a survey of the prison, if such a desolate place 
 
 118 
 
could be deemed worthy of even such a name. It 
 is indeed the most forlorn place the eye of man 
 ever beheld. Prisoners were standing on the 
 sunny side of the trees gathering all the heat 
 possible with which to warm their poor, emaci¬ 
 ated bodies. As we came to the frame building 
 used for a hospital, we looked on a scene that 
 beggars description. Here lie the dead bodies 
 of four prisoners, eyes shrunken, faces emaci¬ 
 ated, their ghastly countenances telling the 
 awful tale of the terrible struggle they had 
 fought with death, but, alas! in vain. Here they 
 lay unnoticed and uncared for. Suffering reigns 
 everywhere. The only smiling faces we saw 
 were those of the rebel guards. Every eye was 
 dull with despondency, and every lip denoted 
 pain. From every hole in the ground and every 
 place where men could crawl away, there came 
 forth what were once strong, able-bodied, happy 
 men, but now changed into gaunt and ghastly 
 forms, slowly perishing from hunger, exposure 
 and ill-treatment. About noon our attention was 
 drawn to a crowd of men congregated at the big 
 gate. Our curiosity was excited and we went 
 to see what it meant. We found a fair speci¬ 
 men of a rebel perched on a box, pleading for 
 recruits to enlist in the rebel army to go to the 
 extreme south and garrison forts. This was in 
 order to relieve the able-bodied soldiers there 
 
 119 
 
who were greatly needed at the front. He was 
 especially desirous to get wagon-makers and 
 blacksmiths, and as an inducement to these 
 mechanics to prove disloyal to their country, by 
 enlisting in the rebel army, he offered an extra 
 inducement of one hundred dollars in southern 
 scrip, a suit of clothes, full rations and twenty 
 dollars a month while they served. A few 
 accepted the offer. They saw no hope of gain¬ 
 ing their liberty alive; they had barely clothes 
 enough to cover their nakedness; they thought, 
 perhaps, they could save their lives and find a 
 better opportunity to escape to the Union lines. 
 But the great majority of the prisoners looked 
 upon these excuses with contempt, entirely 
 unworthy of men who had worn the Union blue, 
 and followed the old Flag. Personally, I felt 
 then that I would starve to death a dozen times 
 before I would be guilty of such a cowardly and 
 traitorous act—and there were thousands of 
 others of the same mind. After the recruiting 
 officer was done exhorting for recruits, he 
 informed us that they were scant of rations and 
 would not be able to furnish us anything to eat 
 that day; that we must be as patient as possible 
 as they were expecting rations from the Shen¬ 
 andoah Valley, and they would probably be at 
 hand the next morning. It seems as though we 
 will never hear the last of the “Valley.” Most 
 
 120 
 
of the prisoners in this pen were captured in the 
 Shenandoah Valley during the campaign of 
 1864, and hence were especially obnoxious to 
 the rebels, and were treated accordingly. 
 
 About 2 o’clock the “dead-wagon” made its 
 daily tour of the grounds, halting at the “Dead 
 House” to load in the bodies, lying there, and 
 then passing out at the south gate to the grave 
 yard, or trenches, which are about 250 yards 
 southwest of the prison. The “dead house” was 
 a •small brick building, situatedjnear the center 
 of the stockade. In the days when “Cotton was 
 King,” and raised in abundance, this building 
 was used for an office in connection with the 
 cotton factory. Here they kept their books and 
 supped their Kentucky Bourbon. It is again 
 used as an office. Here books are again kept. 
 But the long line of figures do 1 not represent 
 dollars and cents—the business of a prosperous 
 concern, sending its valuable commerce into 
 many regions—they do indicate the numbers of 
 brave and true soldiers who have been literally 
 murdered by starvation and brutality, the work 
 of an inhuman so-called, Government, whose 
 barbarity is sending sorrow and dismay into 
 thousands of northern homes. The dead are 
 gathered up during the forenoon, brought to the 
 “dead house,” and piled up against the end like 
 sacks of grain, counted by a sergeant who reg- 
 
 121 
 
isters the number in a book kept for that pur¬ 
 pose. An accurate account is thus kept of each 
 day’s mortality. When this is done, the dead 
 wagon hauls them out in the same manner they 
 are piled up in the dead-house. 
 
 The night is drawing near and we must be 
 looking for a place to sleep, as it is certain we 
 will get nothing to eat this day. We have 
 found some of our regiment who were captured 
 at Winchester, September 19th, one month ear¬ 
 lier than we were. They have a piece of tar¬ 
 paulin stretched over a pole, and we—Connely 
 and myself, are invited to lodge with them over 
 night. Our quarters are very much crowded, 
 but it beats hanging up on the rainy side of a 
 tree. We did not sleep much the first part of 
 the night as we were too busy talking over the 
 battles we had fought in together, but towards 
 the latter part of the night, one by one, wearied 
 and exhausted, hungry and heart-sick, we fell 
 asleep. 
 
 November 7th. This morning we have made 
 a fortunate discovery—one which we hope will 
 add a little to our comfort. Connely and I 
 found two members of Company “H” of our reg¬ 
 iment who are the fortunate possessors of an 
 old tent. These, when spliced with the two 
 pieces we have, will make two whole tents. 
 Then we started out to look up a location on 
 
 122 
 
which to pitch them, and succeeded in finding 
 room just south of, and about five paces from 
 the dead-house. A large oak tree grew near by. 
 The location seemed to be quite favorable, espe¬ 
 cially, as one of our number remarked, “our 
 friends would not have very far to carry us in 
 order to reach the dead-house.” Here we began 
 to dig a basement over which to erect our tents. 
 With the aid of an old case-knife, and the half 
 of a canteen, we commenced the work of “stak¬ 
 ing out” our claim. The work was pushed for¬ 
 ward until about noon when our squad, known 
 as “Squad No. 10,” was called to get our rations, 
 which consisted of the same as day before yes 
 terday, viz.: one pint of corn meal, including 
 the cob. Unfortunately, the quality was as 
 poor as the quantity, the meal having been 
 heaped together in such quantities that it had 
 heated and become very musty. However, we 
 would have waived all objections against the 
 quality of the stuff, but we could not reconcile 
 ourselves to the limited quantity. This, together 
 with the absence of fuel and all facilities for 
 cooking it, made it very hard to bear. It was 
 eaten raw. This course of diet was of the same 
 order as that of eating dried apples for break¬ 
 fast, drinking a pint of water for dinner, and 
 allowing the pnass to swell for supper. This tra¬ 
 ditional plan we changed somewhat. We ate 
 
 123 
 
the corn meal for dinner, drank the water for 
 supper, and let it swell for the next day’s 
 rations. Some of the poor fellows had neither 
 cnp nor can in which to get their ration of meal. 
 Some resorted to their hats, while those who 
 were not fortunate enough to possess a hat sub¬ 
 stituted a corner of their blouse, and if neither 
 hat nor blouse were available—and thousands 
 ol poor fellows were destitute of both—they 
 would draw their hands together and receive 
 their meal in that way. Any way so the pre¬ 
 cious meal, poor as it was, could be carried to 
 some secluded spot, where it would be devoured 
 as only famishing men could devour it. 
 
 After we had eaten our dry meal, all hands 
 went to work digging with a will. We rein¬ 
 forced the case knife with a sharp stick, and the 
 canteen was kept going by changing operators, 
 so that bv sundown we had a hole about one 
 foot deep, five and one-half feet wide, and eight 
 feet long. Will some of my readers try to do 
 the same amount of work in the same length of 
 time, using only the same kind of implements? 
 But suffering men will nerve themselves to do 
 almost superhuman deeds. One of. our party 
 climbed the tree and with the assistance of the 
 case knife and mallet succeeded in cutting off 
 limbs for a ridge-pole, end poles and stakes, 
 which enabled us to put up our tent. And in 
 
 124 
 
 
this domicile, rude as it was, we were as happy 
 and contented as Diogenes in his famous tub. 
 Our family numbered six, all told. But we had 
 only two blankets, and one of them was almost 
 worthless, it being the one we had, early in our 
 capture, cut up so badly in order to deceive our 
 rebel guards, by wrapping it around our good 
 blanket and pieces of tent. Something had to 
 be done in order to increase the supply of blan¬ 
 kets because by no manner of stretching or 
 “spooning” could. one good blanket and one 
 mutilated blanket be made to cover the bodies, 
 poor and emaciated as they were, of six men. A 
 meeting of the “stockholders” was called, the 
 situation discussed, propositions made, and, by 
 a unanimous vote we agreed to take in two more 
 “stockholders/- but upon the express condition 
 that they would each furnish a blanket. This 
 swelled our “family” to eight, and all to lie 
 down in a space five and a half feet by eight. 
 Six of the number were members of the 22nd 
 Iowa Infantry; the other two belonged to a 
 Maine regiment. 
 
 Some of the prisoners sold every article of 
 clothing they could possibly spare—some retain¬ 
 ing only their shirts—in order to obtain money 
 enough with which to buy bread. It took from 
 $5.00 to $10.00 in Confederate money to buy a 
 single loaf of bread. It may seem impossible 
 
 125 
 
to readers of this book, that at this very time, 
 when we were receiving only one pint of dry* 
 corn-cob meal once a day for our rations; when 
 men were selling the clothes off their backs to 
 buy bread to keep from starving, the commis¬ 
 sary store-house in Salisbury wan packed from 
 floor to roof with corn and pork, but such is the 
 fact. Are we not forced to the conclusion that 
 the systematic starvation of the Federal pris¬ 
 oners was a wilful and deliberate plan to kill 
 them off? This purpose of the Confederate 
 authorities was most faithfully carried out by 
 John H. Gee, Post Commander. When a sub¬ 
 ordinate officer, knowing that plenty of food 
 was packed away in the commissary store-house, 
 asked Gee for permission to issue full rations to 
 
 the prisoners, this fiend answered: “No, sir; it 
 is against the orders issued to me. Give them 
 
 quarter rations.” 
 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 First Night in our New Quarters—The Recruit¬ 
 ing Officer Again—Salisbury Buildings and 
 Their Uses—Dirt, Vermin and Death Reign 
 Supreme—Great Suffering for Want of Cloth¬ 
 ing and Shelter—Heartless Physicians—Try 
 ing to Force the Prisoners to Enlist—How we 
 get our Fuel and Water—A Murderous Order 
 —Good Fortune—A Petition and its Wicked 
 Refusal—“Barn Burners” Again—A Convict 
 Whipped—A Terrible Scene—An Affecting- 
 Parting Between two Comrades—A Valuable 
 Purchase. 
 
 November 8th. The night was passed in com¬ 
 parative comfort in our new quarters. Although 
 somewhat crowded, yet by sleeping in the same 
 relation to one another as mother used to put 
 away her silver spoons, and, when the squad 
 wanted to turn over or change position, by 
 observing the command, “Spoon to the right !” 
 or “Spoon to the left!” as the case might be, we 
 slept very comfortably. Fortunately we were 
 so tired and slept so soundly, that we had to 
 “spoon over” only once during the night. 
 
 127 
 
I enjoyed! a rare luxury today in the shape of 
 a chew of tobacco—the first I have had for sev¬ 
 eral days. Words cannot describe the joy I 
 received in rolling that sweet morsel under my 
 tongue. The nectar and ambrosia of the Grecian 
 gods were as “green persimmons 77 to the sweet¬ 
 ness and richness of that “chew! 77 
 
 Today the recruiting officer has again made 
 liis appearance and is working hard to-get men 
 to enlist in the rebel army. Every inducement 
 is held out to Union prisoners to take the oatli 
 of allegiance to the Southern Confederacy. Thej 
 take advantage of the awful despondency which 
 prevails among the prisoners, telling us that 
 they have not the wherewith to feed us, and 
 that our government at Washington will not 
 consent to an exchange of prisoners. A few of 
 the poor boys are won over b} 7 these lying state¬ 
 ments-—but only a few—and these, as they pass 
 out at the gate, to become traitors to their Flag, 
 have to run the gauntlet of flying clubs and 
 other mis-sles. The great majority prefer death 
 to disloyalty. 
 
 The large brick building and one of the frame 
 buildings are full to overflowing with sick men 
 To look in upon them is to witness a sight that 
 is heart-rending beyond expression. The lowei 
 story of the brick building has only a dirt floor 
 On this the sick are placed in rows running the 
 
 128 
 
LARGE BRICK HOSPITAL BUILDING 
 
full length of the room. At one time a very 
 little straw partially protected the poor, sick 
 bodies from contact with the dampness and 
 filthiness of the dirt floor, but the straw has 
 become so broken and scattered by long use and 
 no replenishment that it no longer affords any 
 protection. The dust is so very thick and is so 
 full of vermin that they are seen crawling 
 around like ants on an ant-hill. The suffering 
 of the helpless sick is fearful to- contemplate, 
 and the sight enough to make one’s blood run 
 cold. It is not an uncommon thing to see sick 
 men who are so weak that they cannot brush 
 the vermin away, completely covered with them, 
 face, whiskers, hair, in fact the whole body, is 
 devoured and tormented by the pests. No effort 
 whatever is made by the prison authorities to 
 cleanse the place or give any protection to the 
 sick and tormented men. Their living hell is 
 called a “Hospital,” and the villians who are in 
 charge of it are called “men!” What a travesty 
 on truth and justice! 
 
 The second story of this building is also used 
 for the sick. It differs from the lower story 
 only by having a floor, but so far as dirt and 
 vermin are concerned, it shows no improvement 
 whatever. On this floor also the sick are laid in 
 rows and so closely packed together that there 
 is no room to step between the bodies. The 
 
 130 
 
ventilation in this room being very poor, words 
 cannot describe the terrible odor which filled 
 its atmosphere, and which the poor fellows were 
 compelled to breathe day and night. No man 
 ever left the pen, however feeble he might be, 
 who had a friend to attend his wants, or render 
 him aid of any kind. The only advantage gained 
 by going into one of these buildings was shelter 
 from the storms, and even this was counterbal¬ 
 anced by being brought into immediate contact 
 with such masses of filth and contaminating 
 disease that the open stockade was a much more 
 decent and comfortable place, even for sick 
 men than their boasted “Hospital." 
 
 Nearly all the prisoners are without covering 
 or shelter of any kind. During the long, chilly 
 nights, they suffer a great deal from cold, 
 which, during the day, is followed by the other 
 extreme of intense heat from the sun. The effect 
 of these changes upon men who are compara¬ 
 tively well, is to impose intense suffering; what 
 must it be to the poor fellows who are helpless 
 from disease? The rebel surgeons seem to give 
 little or no attention to the sick. They go the 
 rounds in a cold, perfunctory manner. Very 
 little medicine is given. Only those who were so 
 far gone that there was no hope for a cure 
 received the least attention from the hospital 
 surgeons. Nearly as many died inside the stock- 
 
 131 
 
ade, without having received any medical atten¬ 
 tion whatever, as in the hospital. At the other 
 hospital, that is, the frame building, the same 
 conditions existed, and even worse. No brushes, 
 no brooms, were ever furnished to clean the 
 floors and walls. The nurses could not even pro¬ 
 cure water enough to wash the faces and hands 
 of the sick and dying men. There they lay, right 
 in their filth, and no means of removing either it 
 or them. No pen can properly describe the con¬ 
 ditions; God onlv can see and understand it. 
 
 From what my own eyes have witnessed, I 
 am compelled to believe that, with very few 
 exceptions, the doctors of the South are a set of 
 inhuman scoundrels, unworthy to bear the dig¬ 
 nified title of “doctor.” They are a burning dis¬ 
 grace to that honorable profession. Because of 
 their utter neglect of duty, and tlieir inhuman 
 treatment of the sick, so loathsome has this 
 place become that it is next to impossible for 
 even a well man to endure it. It is not strange 
 that the mortality of this prison is greater than 
 that of Andersonville. 
 
 The policy of the prison authorities now 
 seems to be to force us to join the rebel army by 
 withholding our rations, as not a mouthful of 
 food of any kind have they given us since yester¬ 
 day. But the great majority of the Union pris- 
 
 A* 
 
 oners are determined to endure torture and suf- 
 
 132 
 
fering, even unto death, if need be, rather than 
 prove disloyal to the old flag. 
 
 An addition is being built to the brick hos¬ 
 pital building which, rumor says, is to be used 
 as a bake-oven. If they would only be humane 
 enough to take the main building for a bakery, 
 bake good bread and plenty of it, as they could 
 if they would, there would be little need for the 
 hospital. 
 
 Our wood for cooking and heating purposes 
 is received in the following manner: A squad 
 of men is detailed each morning who go into the 
 woods and cut down green pitch-pine trees. This 
 wood is then loaded on flat cars and taken to 
 the northwest corner of the stockade, unloaded 
 and carried within the stockade about 150 yards 
 distant. Each one hundred men are allowed 
 what three men can carry away on their shoul¬ 
 ders. The men who go out to cut the wood are 
 guarded like prison convicts. This break in the 
 fearful routine of prison life is a great blessing 
 to the men who are detailed to go out, as well 
 as to their friends who remain inside, because 
 on their return to the prison from work, they 
 are permitted to take blackberry roots in with 
 them, which we find to be an excellent remedy 
 for diarrhoea, the disease being very prevalent 
 among the prisoners. The men wlm are detailed 
 
 133 
 
to cut wood receive double rations. This is the 
 greatest inducement of all. 
 
 Our water supply is brought to us in barrels, 
 the allowance being the amount that two men 
 can carry in a barrel for every 100 men. A hole 
 is cut through the staves of the barrel, into 
 which a pole is put. This is carried by two 
 men to a stream about 200 yards southeast of 
 the stockade. About three pails of water is an 
 average load for two men in our condition, 
 twenty, under strong guard. Along the road to 
 These water carriers go out in squads of ten and 
 the stream are numbers of citizens who are 
 eager to trade a sweet potato or corn dodger for 
 a Yankee relic. Wells were dug in the stockade 
 and water found at a depth of eighteen feet, but 
 the wells became so contaminated with filth 
 that, although suffering for water, as we often 
 do, it is impossible for us to drink it. A few 
 deeper wells were dug on higher ground, but 
 even these became so contaminated and foul that 
 thev were rendered useless. When the reader 
 
 t' 
 
 will bear in mind that there was no arrange¬ 
 ment whatever made for sewerage, and the 
 prison contained a population of from 1500 to 
 2000 men on each acre of ground, some idea may 
 be had of the vast accumulation of filth of all 
 kinds which covered the ground and saturated 
 it during the wet season. These wells became 
 
 134 
 
the only and most natural catcli-basins, and 
 their condition after a heavy rain may be better 
 imagined than described. 
 
 A trench, or sink, is dug along the east, and 
 some ten feet from the inside of the stockade 
 fence. It is about three feet deep and four feet 
 wide, and it is no uncommon sight to see some 
 poor fellow fall in there knee deep in tilth. Some 
 idea of the sanitary conditions of the grounds 
 may be had after reading the following order 
 issued to the guards, copies of which are posted 
 up at conspicuous places along the line: 
 
 “C. S. Military Prison 
 Salisbury, N. C., Nov. 1, 1864. 
 
 Sentinels are requested to shoot down all 
 prisoners in the future who are seen moving 
 about camp after taps. 
 
 Major -J. H. Gee, Commanding.” 
 
 Rations were issued today consisting of one 
 pint of corn meal, musty as usual. The wood- 
 squad also came in with wood, and as the squad 
 is divided up into so many messes, it makes it 
 necessary to divide the wood, which has to be 
 worked up with a railroad spike and a case 
 knife, in this manner: The spike is driven under 
 a: sliver of wood, then one end of the sliver is 
 cut off with the knife and a mallet, and holding 
 on to the other end, it is pulled off. In this 
 
 135 
 
laborious manner green pitcli-pine logs, eight 
 and ten inches in diameter, are worked up and 
 divided. 
 
 Good fortune befell, and met a kind citizen 
 who gave me a plug of tobacco for a gutta¬ 
 percha ring, adorned with two sets. May bless¬ 
 ings, many, fall upon his head. 
 
 A committee was appointed today to confer 
 with the Commander of the prison, with 
 instructions to do all in their power to move 
 him to allow us to go into the woods and cut 
 pine logs with which to build barracks and huts 
 for shelter from the storms and the severitv of 
 the weather. The grounds around the stock¬ 
 ade are covered with a heavy growth of pine 
 timber, and with a little work we could soon 
 build huts that woul shelter all the poor fel¬ 
 lows from the cold and bitter wintry winds. The 
 committee reported to the west gate and sent 
 word by a sentinel to the Commander that a 
 committe wished to confer with his honor (?) on 
 important business. The sentinel returned 
 and ordered the committe to follow him. They 
 were at once conducted into the presence of 
 his august majesty, to whom they made known 
 their business, pledging their honor that no one 
 would attempt to violate his parole if such per¬ 
 mission was granted them. The doughty Major 
 
 136 
 
held down his head, looked very wise, and at 
 last broke the silence by saying: 
 
 “No; yonr request cannot be granted for two 
 reasons. 1st. It will destroy our forests. 2nd. 
 You fellows can live without houses as well as 
 the inhabitants of the Shenandoah Valley.” 
 
 This ended the interview, and the committee 
 returned and reported the Commander’s answer, 
 which caused great grief among the prisoners. 
 Here it is again. It seems that all our hard¬ 
 ships and sufferings are due to the unfortunate 
 fact that we were captured in the Shenandoah 
 Valley. I wonder if any of us should be so for¬ 
 tunate as to be permitted to knock at the 
 “Golden Gate,” if Peter will put out his head 
 and say: 
 
 “Depart, ye barn-burners! Ye were captured 
 in the Shenandoah Valley! Begone!” 
 
 «y <> 
 
 But if St. Peter should be tempted to say that 
 to us, what will lie not say to the miserable 
 brute who rejected our reasonable request for 
 permission to erect some kind of shelter to pro¬ 
 tect us from the snow and frost of winter? If 
 the righteous (Union prisoners) can scarcely be 
 saved, where shall the ungodly (Gee) and the 
 sinners (the rest of the rebel gang) appear?” 
 We give it up, but anticipation is comforting. 
 
 November 10th. Last night about dark an 
 event took place which nearly caused blood- 
 
 137 
 
shed. One of the rebel convicts was arrested 
 and taken to a place near the west gate, where 
 he was lashed to a tree, his body stripped naked, 
 and in this condition he was unmercifully 
 whipped by two stout Confederate soldiers, the 
 entire camp looking at the brutal work going 
 on. The hot blood of the prisionors was up, and 
 all resolved to die rather than stand by and see 
 a prisoner whipped in such a brutal manner by 
 miserable slave-drivers. The guards ordered the 
 crowd to disperse. Excitement ran high, when 
 an officer stepped to tire front and announced 
 to the crowd that the man who was being 
 whipped was ai deserter from the Confederate 
 army, and he was being punished for insulting 
 an officer. Being satisfied that the officer told 
 the truth, the crowd dispersed. I did not want 
 to look at the terrible sight, so I went to my hut, 
 but I could plainly hear liis piteous appeals for 
 mercy. I knew he was an enemy to my country, 
 its righteous cause and beloved Flag, but for all 
 that, I remembered lie was a human being, and 
 his appeals for mercy went to my very soul, as 
 if they would rend it asunder. The terrible 
 punishment lasted until the cries of the poor 
 wretch were scarcely audible, w T hen the surgeon 
 who was watching his pulse told them to stop. 
 
 The recruiting officer is at his place again as 
 usual. His earnest appeals and great induce- 
 
 138 
 
ments won Jerry Daniels, of Company “H,” over 
 to liis cause. Jerry came to liis hole in the 
 ground, where lie had a sick comrade by the 
 name of Miller. Jerry said to him: 
 
 “Jacob, I can’t do you any good if I stay, and 
 I will desert and make for our lines the first 
 opportunity. If I live this way much longer I 
 shall die. I am already on the verge of insanity, 
 and before I get too weak to travel I will try to 
 escape. To stay here is certain death. I will 
 lose nothing by leaving, and here, now, com¬ 
 rade, I leave you my piece of blanket. That is 
 all of the world's goods I have. It will do you 
 more good than I can if I stay, and with my 
 blessing, I bid you farewell, hoping to meet you 
 again on earth; if not, I hope to meet you on 
 the sunny banks of Eternal Deliverance, where 
 there will be no rebel prisons and blood- 
 hounds.' 7 
 
 They bade each other farewell, and it was the 
 most touching and affectionate parting between 
 two friends I ever witnessed. I marched up to 
 the gate with poor Jerry, and the tears came 
 into my eyes when I saw him march out under 
 that infamous rebel rag. In that sad moment 
 I. renewed my allegiance to the dear old Flag, 
 for whose honor and defense I, with thousands 
 of others were suffering untold agonies. I 
 vowed never to aid its enemies to the value of 
 
 139 
 
anything, or to the extent of a moment of time. 
 When Jerry was well outside the stockade he 
 
 t/ 
 
 turned and bade us all farewell. 
 
 The work on the bakery is progressing, but 
 not speedily enough for us. The chief topic of 
 conversation now is “Bread!” We have been 
 in here six days and nothing has been given us 
 to eat but three pints of coarse meal, cob and all 
 ground together, and so musty that a decent 
 hog would not eat it. This having been the day 
 for soliciting recruits for the rebel army from 
 among the prisoners, it is certain we are 
 doomed to go without even our musty meal. 
 
 I made a valuable purchase to-day in the 
 shape of a pair of small pincers, or plyers. They 
 will be of great service to me in making finger 
 rings, and these, in turn, will enable me to add 
 to my scanty store of tobacco, food, etc. How 
 fortunate I am after all! 
 
 140 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Starving, but no Rations—Manufacturing Rub¬ 
 ber Rings—Wlio Our Guards Are—A Rival 
 Business—Convicts Again Raid the Camp— 
 Skirmishing for Game (?) Under Difficulties— 
 Connely Meets With an Accident—Trading— 
 Cruelty of the Prison Authorities—Plenty, 
 but Starving—Another Lot of “Fresh Fish” 
 Arrive—High Living—“Bread! Bread!! 
 Bread!!!”—Miserable Prisoners—The Prison 
 Authorities Discover a Tunnel—A Change in 
 Our Rations—A Rebel Tour of Inspection. 
 
 November 11th. This morning finds us 
 nearly famished, no rations being given to us 
 since day before yesterday. In this way the 
 minions representing Jeff Davis and his 
 so-called Government wreak vengeance on 
 Union prisoners who will not consent to become 
 traitors to their Flag by enlisting in the rebel 
 army. 
 
 I commenced the manufacture of a rubber 
 ring this morning. The process of manufacture 
 is as follows: I commence by taking the cen¬ 
 ter portion of a fine-tooth comb, cutting it in 
 
 141 
 
three strips about one-fourth of an inch wide. 
 These strips are warmed sufficiently to make 
 them pliable like leather, and are then wound 
 round a stick until the ends meet. Each strip 
 is kept on the stick until it is perfectly cold, so 
 that it will retain its circular form. Then a set 
 is put on the ends, a place having been cut out 
 sufficiently large and deep to hold it. The set 
 is made secure by rivits being put through it 
 and clinched on the inside of the ring. Then 
 the rubber is tiled round and smooth, the set 
 polished and the article is ready for the first 
 vain rebel who wants to possess it. These rings 
 sell for from $5.00 to $10.00 in rebel scrip. A 
 good and ready market is found for them in 
 
 o «y 
 
 going for water, many citizens being eager to 
 buy or trade for them as relics of the Yankee 
 prisoners. We very much prefer trading them 
 for eatables as we can get more for them in that 
 way. 
 
 Our rations of meal were distributed to us 
 today, consisting of the same quantity and 
 quality. We received the welcome news that 
 hereafter our rations will consist of bread, 
 baked, I suppose, in the new oven, and will be 
 issued to us daily. If these promises are faith¬ 
 fully kept we shall be very thankful, but we 
 cannot help doubting the sincerity of their 
 promises and intentions. 
 
 142 
 
We are guarded by two classes of rebel sol- 
 diers. One class is called the “Senior 
 Reserves. To look at them, one would con¬ 
 clude the Confederate authorities had been rob¬ 
 bing the graves of their dead, and had, by some 
 magical process, infused life into the skeletons, 
 put clothes on them, armed and equipped them, 
 and then assigned them to the heavenly (?) task 
 of guarding Yankee prisoners, and shooting 
 them as opportunity offered. They are old men, 
 and would show us some compassion if they 
 dared to do it. To do so would be to place their 
 own lives in jeopardy. 
 
 The other class is called “The Junior 
 Reserves,” and one could easily conclude that 
 the cradles of Southern homes had been robbed 
 to get them. This class is composed of boys 
 ranging from 15 to 18 years of age. Of course 
 they have never seen actual field service, and 
 the great ambition of each youngster is to 
 “shoot a Yankee.” They watch the dead-line 
 very closely, and woe be to the poor fellow who 
 either willfully or accidentally steps on, or falls 
 over, the prohibited line. A flash, a fall, a 
 groan, a murder, and the youthful murderer 
 receives his reward by being called a “War¬ 
 rior !” By such inducements held out to these 
 boys, our enemies give many a Union prisoner 
 his eternal and speedy parole. Will not the 
 
 143 
 
blood of these cruelly-murdered men curse the 
 very soil on which their blood has fallen? 
 
 I have two rivals in the relic-making business 
 —one, Lewis K. Auringer, of the 81st Pennsyl¬ 
 vania Infantry, who works in bone, making 
 bone Bibles, finger-rings, cuff-buttons, etc. The 
 other, W. B. Hill, of Co. “B,” of my regiment, 
 who is an expert in making wooden spoons. 
 His wares are in good demand, but those who 
 need his goods the most are the prisoners, and 
 they have not the money with which to buy. 
 
 November 12th. The sick are increasing with 
 alarming rapidity, and the dead likewise. The 
 record of yesterday’s mortality was thirty-two 
 corpses taken to the dead-house. No doubt 
 the terrible exposure and lack of food and 
 proper medicine is the chief cause of the 
 increased death-rate. And it promises to grow 
 worse instead of better. 
 
 Maj. Gee remarked to-day that he would have 
 us all in hell or the Confederate army in thirty 
 days. 
 
 The convict prisoners were out raiding the 
 camp last night. They robbed two men of their 
 clothing while the poor fellows were walking 
 about to keep warm. The nights are getting 
 very cold and those who have no huts to shelter 
 them suffer beyond description. One problem 
 
 144 
 
will soon be solved, viz.: How long can a man 
 live on one pint of corn meal issued to him every 
 other day, and compelled to tramp about all 
 night to keep up animal heat, or else lie down 
 on the bare ground huddled together like so 
 many swine? The solution is not far off. 
 
 During the middle of the day, while it is 
 warm, the poor boys may be seen sitting and 
 supporting their poor, emaciated bodies against 
 a tree or building, shirts and pants off, trying to 
 rid themselves of the awful vermin which are 
 sucking the very life-blood out of them. But 
 even this, while it is an imperative necessity, is 
 a very dangerous proceeding—in fact, no man 
 dares attempt to take off a garment for any pur¬ 
 pose unless he is surrounded by friends who 
 will protect him; and even then, lie must sit on 
 one end of the garment while lie is skirmishing 
 for game at the other end. If this precaution is 
 not observed, some one stronger than he will 
 soon have the garment. Such occurrences are 
 so frequent that we have to look upon them as 
 scarcely deserving of condemnation. 
 
 The ubiquitious, and exceedingly annoying, 
 recruiting officer is out and at work again. To 
 us who refuse to accept liis invitations and 
 promised rewards, it means no rations, and a 
 further fast of tw T enty-foiir hours. But let it 
 
 145 
 
come. We are determined to die rather than 
 prove disloyal. 
 
 Comrade Connely met with a very severe^ and 
 painful accident to-day. He crushed his* thumb 
 while carrying wood. He applied for aid to the 
 prison surgeon and got some salve to put on it. 
 I hope it will not prove serious. I had the good 
 fortune to go out with the water-squad to-day 
 and suceeded in trading a finger ring for three 
 sweet potatoes, whichvt ate raw. I also cut off 
 two brass buttons from my blouse for which I 
 got. the half of a sweet potato pie. From its 
 appearance and consistency it must have been 
 baked in the sun, on a board. It was nearly as 
 tough as rubber; but it tasted delicious. While 
 I was out to-day I had a conversation with one 
 of the guards, and I am perfectly satisfied from 
 the information I received from him, that there 
 has been no time since this prison was opened, 
 that the authorities could not have furnished 
 the prisoners an abundance of corn meal and 
 bacon were they so disposed. And from my 
 own observation, I know they could have fur¬ 
 nished us with abundance of lumber with which 
 to build comfortable huts for the thousands of 
 shelterless prisoners. With such glaring facts 
 before us, is it not reasonable to believe that 
 their inhuman treatment was willful and pre¬ 
 meditated cruelty? It was a part of their plans 
 
 146 
 
to wreak vengeance for their disappointed 
 hopes. 
 
 November 13th. The dawning of this morn¬ 
 ing brought no ray of cheer or comfort to the 
 thousands of poor fellows who are compelled to 
 be shelterless and exposed to the cold, drizzling 
 rain which fell during the night, and still con¬ 
 tinues this morning. This kind of weather 
 greatly increases the mortality of the prison, 
 where men have no shelter to protect them from 
 the weather. When they get sick tliev receive 
 no medical treatment. The barbarity of our 
 enemies is inexcusable and beyond expression. 
 
 Another lot of what they lovingly call “fresh 
 fish” (these are “black bass”), arrived to-day. 
 About 300 colored soldiers, or, to use the favor¬ 
 ite southern term, “niggers,” and about 1,200 or 
 1,300 white soldiers were brought in to become 
 the guests, or victims, of Major Gee and his 
 butchers. Judging from their appearance, they 
 must have come.over the same route we trav¬ 
 el el. They are only half-clad, barefooted, bare¬ 
 headed, and but very few of them have even a 
 blouse left. They are a sorry, forsaken looking 
 lot. Bnt how will they look after they have 
 been in here a few months? The young guards 
 are making all the fun they can out of them at 
 our expense, asking us such questions as, 
 
 117 
 
“Do you’uns want an introduction to your 
 brothers? 1 ’ 
 
 The number within this stockade at the pres¬ 
 ent time is about 12,000. Our rations have 
 come again consisting of corn meal after the 
 regulation pattern, or Salisbury Prison stand¬ 
 ard. Nine days ago we came to this rebel hos- 
 telery and during that time only five pints of 
 coarse corn meal have been given to us. This 
 comprises the entire amount of food supplied 
 to us by the representatives of Jeff Davis’ gov¬ 
 ernment who are supreme in authority here. 
 This system of slow, but sure, starvation is hav¬ 
 ing its effect in rapidly diminishing our num¬ 
 bers. The prisoners are dying at the rate of 
 twenty-five and thirty a day. It takes a man of 
 exceedingly strong constitution, buoyant hope 
 and cheerful, enthusiastic temperament to live 
 under such conditions. The man who allows 
 himself to become depressed and gloomy soon 
 dies. Two poor fellows have gone totally 
 insane, but. are still left, within the enclosure; 
 no attempt whatever is made to protect, restrain 
 or give them relief. They run around the 
 grounds crying: 
 
 6 ‘ Brea d! B read!! B rea d!!! ” 
 
 This one word they scream at the top of their 
 voice. Their eyes are glassy, their walk 
 unsteady. They are indeed objects of pity, but 
 
 148 
 
of that virtue there is none to be found among 
 the rebel officers and guards of Salisbury 
 Prison. A more desperate, heartless set of 
 fiends never walked the earth. 
 
 The most pitiful objects among the prisoners 
 are those men who have no friends or particular 
 associates in the prison. Where a few old 
 acquaintances have been able to keep together, 
 they could keep up at least a semblance of cheer¬ 
 fulness. The old saying, “Misery loves com¬ 
 pany’' may or may not be true, but it is true that 
 men who have been associated together under 
 better and more favorable conditions, if misfor¬ 
 tune chances to overtake them, are able to 
 encourage each other, enliven the surroundings, 
 and thus make their fate, however distressing 
 it may be, more bearable. Not so with those 
 who are so unfortunate as to be compelled to 
 bear their grief and endure their sufferings 
 alone. There is still another class of prisoners 
 who are compelled to endure agonies unspeak¬ 
 able—those who have no huts, or tents, or holes 
 to go into, but are forced to crawl under build¬ 
 ings, or tramp over the grounds all night to keep 
 up sufficient warmth to save them from freez¬ 
 ing. These poor fellows suffer the most because 
 when morning comes, instead of being refreshed 
 by rest and sleep, they are completely exhausted 
 and worn out. 
 
 149 
 
To-day the prison authorities made an import¬ 
 ant discovery—a tunnel which was being dug 
 by some of the prisoners for the purpose of aid¬ 
 ing them to escape. To avoid any such opera¬ 
 tions hereafter, the authorities have stationed 
 a special guard of fifteen men in different parts 
 of the stockade to watch the prisoners and their 
 movements. While “exchange stock” is low, 
 stock in tunnels is at a high premium, many a 
 poor fellow imagining he can see Paradise in all 
 its glory through a tunnel. Alas! how few live 
 to see their hopes realized. 
 
 November 14th. Morning lias again dawned, 
 a little brighter so far as Nature can make it, 
 than yesterday morning, but presenting the 
 same blank, cheerless, hopeless aspect. The 
 rebel raiders were abroad again last night, and 
 had a high time stripping the dead, robbing the 
 poor colored prisoners of what few remnants of 
 blankets were left to them by the other rebel 
 raiders, their captors. Their opportunity for 
 raiding these unfortunates was favorable to suc¬ 
 cess, as the poor fellows, not expecting such 
 raids from those whom they supposed to be fel¬ 
 low-prisoners, had divided themselves into 
 small groups and laid down wherever an open¬ 
 ing could be found. Such small groups not 
 being able to defend themselves against the 
 
 150 
 
onsets of the stronger force of raiders, they were 
 easily robbed of whatever they. had. It is 
 wretched enough to be in here as a white pris¬ 
 oner, but to be a “nigger” prisoner is to be sub¬ 
 jected to brutality and cruelty indescribable. It 
 is a heart-breaking sight to see these poor fel¬ 
 lows, the colored soldiers, this morning almost 
 destitute of everything in the shape of blankets 
 and coats. As the weather is fast increasing in 
 severity their sufferings will be beyond 
 endurance. 
 
 A change was made in the rations issued 
 to-day. Instead of the usual ration of meal, 
 baked bread was given to us, but it is made out 
 of the same material heretofore given to us. The 
 loaves are said to weigh one pound each, and 
 one loaf is divided between two men. What 
 this means may be understood when I declare on 
 my honor as a soldier, that the entire loaf would 
 not be sufficient to satisfy the hunger of one 
 man; what must it be when it is divided between 
 two? To make matters worse, the bread is only 
 half baked, is sour and musty, and inside the 
 loaf is corn as raw and hard as when first 
 ground. 
 
 Some of the officers took a walk through the 
 prison to day on a tour of inspection. If they 
 were men possessed of any souls or consciences 
 
 151 
 
they must have seen sights that would haunt 
 them with remorse until their dying day. But 
 there is no danger of any thoughts or feelings of 
 pity entering their minds. How I do wish they 
 were compelled to live as we have to live, and 
 subsist on the rations we have to subsist on! 
 Possibly they might then be induced to order 
 better conditions and more food for the pris¬ 
 oners—if they were the prisoners. 
 
 152 
 

 
 1 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Cold, Naked and Shelterless—Lime-Raised 
 
 Bread to Eat—A Sutler—Patrols in Search 
 of Tunnels—News of Lincoln’s Re-election— 
 A Joyful Night—Burying the Dead—A Side 
 Dish—Bread-Coffee—A Visit to the Dead 
 House—Rations Diminishing in Quantity but 
 Increasing in Strength—The Recruiting 
 Officer Changes Hi<s Tactics—The Location of 
 a Tunnel Betrayed—The Betrayer Found— 
 Rewarded—Deaths in the Stockade—A Col¬ 
 ored Prisoner Shot by the Guards—Robbed 
 Again. 
 
 November 15th. Last night was very cold, 
 and this morning a cold, blood-chilling wind is 
 blowing from the north. Things have come to 
 such a state with us that it is absolutely neces¬ 
 sary to strip the dead to relieve the needs of the 
 living. It looks inhuman to carry the poor, 
 dead bodies to the dead house naked, but it is 
 only fulfilling the scripture which says, in sub¬ 
 stance, “we brought nothing into this world 
 with us, and we shall carry nothing out of it.” 
 
The Scripture lias its literal fulfillment in the 
 condition in which we find ourselves here—for 
 sure we brought nothing in with us (the theiv- 
 ing rebels having robbed us of all we had, and 
 from the appearance of the dead bodies brought 
 to the dead house, it is certain they will take 
 nothing out of here with them, because they are 
 carried out and buried as naked as when they 
 were born. 
 
 Eations of bread, the same as yesterday, were 
 issued to-day. However, the bread had an addi¬ 
 tional ingredient in it which we were not 
 expecting. We wondered where the yeast came 
 from to raise the bread, but to-day’s rations 
 solved the mystery. Crocker and I drew our 
 rations together—one loaf for both of us—and 
 when we divided it, lo! to our amazement, we 
 found a piece of pure, genuine lime, about the 
 size of a hickory nut in it. The bread is flavored 
 so strong with the lime that we can scarcely eat 
 it. It is of a yellowish color, like a piece of pine 
 soaked in lye, and it is nearly as strong. If the 
 cook puts this lime in the bread to make it light 
 and spongy, like pound-cake, or “angel-food,” 
 they made a miserable failure of it, because the 
 bread is soggy, heavy and strong enough to 
 make soap. What effect it will have on our 
 poor, empty stomachs, time alone can tell. One 
 thing is in our favor, there is nothing left inside 
 
 154 
 
us for the lime to work on—fortunate are we, 
 after all! 
 
 Good news reached us to-day through one 
 of the old prison guards—Abraham Lincoln 
 has been re-elected President. The news was 
 hailed with lusty cheers inside the prison, and 
 were responded to with jeers from the outside. 
 They know that with President Lincoln in the 
 White House at Washington and Grant in com¬ 
 mand of the armies in the field the doom of the 
 traitorous South is sealed. Nothing but 
 “unconditional surrender” will be accepted— 
 and it must come very soon. 
 
 November 16th. A Sutler established his 
 headquarters in a tent within the stockade 
 to-day. His price-list is posted up at the door 
 of his tent and is as follows: 
 
 Potatoes, per bushel .$40.00 
 
 Onions, per bushel... 50.00 
 
 Rice, per lb. 2.00 
 
 Salt, per lb. 1.00 
 
 Corn bread, per 1 lb. loaf. 5.00 
 
 Black pepper, per oz. 5.00 
 
 Bacon, per lb. .. .. 5.00 
 
 Sugar, per lb. 1-00 
 
 Tobacco, per lb. 5.00 
 
 If we only had plenty of rebel scrip we might 
 
 155 
 
live like kings, but as we have not, I fear liis 
 majesty will do a slim trade. 
 
 Rations are coming in now with commend¬ 
 able regularity, but the stuff they call bread is 
 so strong with lime that a dog would have to 
 be on the verge of starvation before he would 
 eat it and even then he would not, because he 
 could not. A starving Union prisoner will feast 
 on what a starving dog would refuse. What 
 tliev mean by making it this way is more than 
 we can tell. We would much prefer the raw 
 meal as they formerly issued it to us. 
 
 The guards now make special patrols of the 
 camp in search of tunnels, but fortunately they 
 do not stav inside the stockade during the 
 night. The workmen are busy in the tunnels 
 during the hours of the night. The dirt is car¬ 
 ried out in a shirt or coat, tied like a sack, and 
 is scattered over the grounds. It is then covered 
 with surface dirt so as to disguise it, because 
 the dirt which is taken out of the interior of the 
 tunnel is a red, hard clay, and is easily dis¬ 
 tinguished from the surface dirt. It is scattered 
 by throwing a small quantity in a place, and 
 when it becomes muddy the tunnel dirt is mixed 
 up with the surface dirt which hides it. In this 
 way the opening of the tunnel is kept from the 
 prying eyes of the guard. 
 
 156 
 
November 17th. The Sergeants in command 
 of the squads, and whose duty it is to draw 
 rations, have their rendezvous in one of the 
 small tenement houses. Thev were having a 
 jubilee last night, the news of President Lin¬ 
 coln's re-election being confirmed. They were 
 making speeches, singing “The Star Spangled 
 Banner,” and other national airs, and were 
 having a good time generally, when their jollity 
 was brought to a sudden close by one of the 
 guards ordering them to stop. He then fired 
 into the building, wounding one of the ser¬ 
 geants. 
 
 Jacob Miller, Daniel’s comrade, died last 
 night and was taken to the dead house this fore¬ 
 noon. The light has gone out in one more north¬ 
 ern home, but if the loved ones in that home, 
 when the sad news reaches them, could only 
 know from what an awful living hell death has 
 released their loved one, they would sing songs 
 of praise to God instead of weeping tears of 
 sorrow. 
 
 I went out with the water squad to-day and, 
 through the kindness of the gray-beard guards, 
 we went to the creek by way of the grave yard. 
 We were there while they were unloading the 
 dead, and hardened as we were to sights of 
 suffering and acts of inhuman treatment among 
 the living ,the scenes at the grave yard were 
 
 157 
 
such as made the blood almost run cold in our 
 veins. There were twelve or fifteen corpses 
 piled on the wagon, laid in like hogs, and 
 entirely destitute of covering of any kind. Two 
 men stood on the wagon and each taking hold 
 of a foot and a hand of a corpse, would give it a 
 swing or two and then heave it headlong into 
 the trench, piling them up three or four deep, 
 and hastily covering them over with a few 
 shovels full of dirt This was a sight I had 
 never witnessed before, and I hope I will never 
 be called on to witness again. 
 
 Mothers and fathers of the North, think of 
 your beloved children; wives think of your 
 darling husbands, who went forth to defend 
 the Flag and the Nation that treason and rebel¬ 
 lion might be beaten back, and while engaged 
 in this righteous and honorable duty, taken 
 prisoners, transported to a rebel prison, starved 
 to death and then buried in this manner ! What 
 shall we say when asked to forgive and forget 
 the people who so cruelly and needlessly com¬ 
 mitted these barbarous acts? What man or 
 women, whose sense of right, justice and honor 
 is not entirely dead, could witness such a sight 
 as this and then forget it or forgive it? It might 
 be possible to forgive, but to ask me to forget it 
 is to ask me to become dead to my own exist¬ 
 ence. No, forget it we never can! To do so 
 
 158 
 
would not be consistent with human nature. I 
 expect to remember this terrible scene as Ions 
 as I live, and not only will I carry it in my own 
 memory, but I will teach it to the rising gen¬ 
 eration that they too may remember it. I want 
 them to know what sufferings while living and 
 what shame and indignities when dead were 
 heaped upon the brave men who went into the 
 nation's battles from 1861 to 1865, and were 
 taken prisoners and incarcerated in southern 
 prison pens. I want them to know why and 
 how these numberless, nameless graves were 
 filled with noble, patriot soldiers. And as we 
 hand the old Flag down to coming generations 
 without spot or blemish on it, honored and 
 respected by all nations, may they imbibe the 
 patriotism of their fathers and maintain the 
 honor, integrity and safety of the Flag and 
 Nation against all foes at home and abroad. 
 
 November 18th. The Nations issued to us 
 to-day had a “side-dish” attached to them, made 
 out of the offals of the beeves butchered for the 
 rebel troops at this garrison. We got the hearts, 
 livers, lungs and heads, and if my readers are 
 skillful in counting infinitestimal fractions they 
 may be able to compute how much of the side- 
 dish fell to each man. As a basis for your cal¬ 
 culation I will tell you that my friend Connely 
 got one eye of a beef for his share, and the other 
 
 159 
 
rations were in proportion. I presume they 
 would have thrown in the hides of the animals, 
 but in the decaying Confederacy leather com¬ 
 mands a high premium just now. This is the 
 first time meat of any kind lias been given to the 
 prisoners—not even bean or pea soup has been 
 supplied—nothing but raw meal, or half-done, 
 lime-raised corn bread, lias been given to us 
 to eat. Since we have had bread issued to us 
 we utilize some of it for coffee in this way: We 
 cut a slice off the loaf and hold it at the fire 
 until it is well done. Then we put it in an 
 oyster can full of water and boil it. This we 
 call our “coffee.” It is a weak substitute for 
 the genuine article, but it gives us a good, warm 
 drink, which is quite a luxury to our poor, cold, 
 shivering bodies. 
 
 A visit to the dead house this afternoon 
 revealed forty-three ghastly, emaciated bodies. 
 The deaths are becoming so numerous that the 
 dead wagon is kept busy all the afternoon haul¬ 
 ing the dead to the trenches outside the stock¬ 
 ade. This wagon is utilized for more purposes 
 than hauling out the dead; it is also used to haul 
 in our rations of bread every forenon, and the 
 only cleansing it gets is the evaporation, or 
 hardening of the execrations which exude from 
 the dead bodies, during the night when it is not 
 in use. They say the more the wagon hauls out 
 
 160 
 
tlie less it will have to haul in, but they forget 
 that this rule works both ways, because the less 
 amount of bread the wagon hauls iu the greater 
 the number of dead it will have to haul out. 
 
 November 19th. Our rations of bread come 
 to us with unbroken regularity, but the size of 
 the loaves is gradually diminishing while their 
 strength is constantly increasing. The more I 
 see of this Salisbury Prison bread, the more I 
 am impressed with the belief that lime, as a 
 substitute for the old-fashioned yeast of our 
 mothers is a sad failure. At least, it does not 
 succeed in raising corn-cob meal. However, it 
 does make stronger coffee—but weaker stom¬ 
 achs. I 
 
 The mustering officer, representing Jeff 
 Davis’ government at this recruiting station, 
 lias changed his tactics. Heretofore he has car¬ 
 ried on his work of trying to get Union prison¬ 
 ers to prove traitors to their Flag by enlisting in 
 the rebel army, before rations were issued. Now 
 he carries on his work after they are issued. 
 Perhaps lie thinks we are in better humor and 
 more pliable after their miserable limed 
 bread has begun to get in its work on our stom- 
 aclis. Or it may be lie imagines we will be wil¬ 
 ling to' enlist to escape living any longer on such 
 miserable, deadly stuff. Whether these con¬ 
 jectures are right or wrong, it is evident he 
 
 161 
 
thinks the eating our rations, poor as they are, 
 will have some influence in making us more 
 susceptible to his loving appeals and highly-col¬ 
 ored promises. He has been trying hard today 
 to get a few blacksmiths to enlist in his army, 
 but so far lie has not found any wlm are willing 
 to disgrace their manhood by turning traitors to 
 the Flag they swore to defend against all its 
 enemies. 
 
 The location of a tunnel was made known to 
 the officer of the rebel guards by a poor, starved 
 wretch who hoped to> profit by the betrayal of 
 liis friends. The tunnel was nearly completed 
 to the outside of the stockade, and its discovery 
 was a terrible disappointment to the poor fel¬ 
 lows who had toiled so many long and weary 
 nights with the hope of effecting their escape 
 through it. The rebel authorities let the 
 betrayer out of the stockade on parole of honor, 
 because his life was in danger while he 
 remained inside. A squad of negroes were 
 brought in who opened the tunnel from the top 
 and filled it up. So sure were the men who had 
 beeni working in it that they were beyond the 
 danger point of discovery, and their escape was 
 only a question of a few hours, that they had 
 already begun to anticipate the sweets of lib¬ 
 erty, and speculate as to the line of “under 
 ground railroad” they should travel on. But, 
 
 1(32 
 
alas! what won’t a starving man do to sustain 
 life a little longer? The betrayal of these com¬ 
 rades was base and inexcusable, and yet, the 
 
 * 
 
 man who was guilty of the betrayal to better 
 his own condition, was not low and base enough 
 to consent to save himself by taking the o$th of 
 allegiance to the Southern) Confederacy. So he 
 had some sense of honor left in him after all. 
 
 November 20th. This morning one of the 
 prisoners who was lying out in the mud, having 
 no shelter or bedding to lie on, died, and some 
 one took the liberty of appropriating what few 
 articles of clothing he had on him, which, as 
 may well be supposed, were very scanty. Two 
 of the citizen prisoners died last night. When 
 these are hauled out to be buried we dignify 
 them with the name “funerals,” because the 
 bodies of the citizen prisoners are encased in a 
 square pine box, called a “coffin,” and are taken 
 to their burial one at a time. The rest of the 
 poor fellows, when they die, are piled into the 
 dead wagon as long as the bodies will stay on it, 
 and are buried in the manner described in a 
 former chapter. 
 
 Charley Bowen caught a mouse this morning, 
 dressed it, and while boiling his burned bread 
 for coffee, dropped his “fresh meat” into it and 
 had a combination) of boiled limed, corn¬ 
 cob meal bread, coffee and mouse soup, which 
 
 163 
 
lie pronounced one of the most delicious dishes 
 he had ever eaten since becoming a guest of Jeff 
 Davis at his Hotel de Salisbury. 
 
 About 2 o’clock this afternoon one of the col¬ 
 ored prisoners was shot while walking along 
 the dead-line, by one of the young guards. Those 
 who witnessed the tragic event say the unfortu¬ 
 nate victim of this young rebel’s murderous 
 hate was at least four feet away from the dead¬ 
 line. The least pretext whatever is sufficient 
 for these young scoundrels to shoot a prisoner, 
 whether white or black. 
 
 November 21st. Some of the prisoners had 
 boxes of supplies shipped to them from home 
 and they were delivered to them within the 
 stockade todav. But before the authorities 
 would allow them: to be delivered each 
 box had' to be opened and its contents 
 thoroughly inspected, and during the exam¬ 
 
 ination the larger share of its contents 
 were stolen. The little that was allowed to 
 remain until it reached its rightful owner, was 
 so helpful that many of the boys have been 
 encouraged to write to their friends to send 
 them aid. If one-half the requests- that have 
 been sent out are answered, the inspector of 
 this new department will live fat, as nothing is 
 allowed to go out or come in without being 
 thoroughlv examined. All letters received from 
 
 164 
 
friend sat home are opened and read before being 
 delivered; and all letters sent out from the 
 prison must be confined to six lines, a Confeder¬ 
 ate stamp attached to the letter, the letter to be 
 left unsealed and delivered to their post office 
 department near the south gate. If nothing 
 objectionable is found in the letter it is sealed 
 up and forwarded to our lines, from whence it 
 is forwarded to its destination, free of charge, 
 by a grateful Government. 
 
 165 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Tunnel Stock Above Par—Blood Hounds in 
 Readiness—Hungry, Cold and Heart-sick— 
 Still Trying to Enlist Prisoners-—Becoming 
 Desperate—A Break for Liberty Being Organ¬ 
 ized—Mortality Increasing—No Rations—A 
 Break for Liberty—A Reign of Death and Ter¬ 
 ror—Trying to Relieve the Wounded—Ter¬ 
 rible and Revolting Scenes. 
 
 November 22nd. The most exciting topic of 
 
 conversation now is “Tunnels.” Tunnel stock 
 
 is running high. Those who have become 
 
 “stockholders” in these enterprises talk only of 
 
 the adventures they will have when they have 
 
 • 1 
 
 crawled through the opening on the other side 
 of the stockade. Plans are being laid for escap¬ 
 ing the terrible blood hounds which are sure to 
 be put on the track of any prisoner who is found 
 to be missing. The rebels are equally prepared 
 for and confident of thwarting any designs or 
 enterprises of this kind. A large kennel of 
 fierce blood hounds is kept near the stockade 
 and outside the camp limits, for the purpose of 
 
 166 
 
chasing any Yankee prisoner who may be bold 
 and venturesome enough to attempt to escape 
 from the clutches of these human blood hounds. 
 These dogs are taken each morning in a circuit¬ 
 ous route around 1 the stockade and entire camp, 
 and if any prisoner has escaped during the 
 night and lias passed outside of, or crossed their 
 route, they very soon detect it and are on the 
 trail in hot pursuit. Then begins a gala day for 
 those who have the hounds and the hunting 
 expedition in charge. If the fleeing fugitives 
 are overtaken by the hounds, their only safety 
 is to climb a tree or •surrender themselves’ to 
 some planter where the dogs will remain until 
 the officers, sometimes numbering a dozen or 
 more, arrive and the prisoner is again taken into 
 custody. When the Yank is overtaken and 
 once more in their power, the merriment begins. 
 He is compelled to march back to the prison ahead 
 of the blood hounds, and he is warned that his 
 life depends on his own ability to keep out of 
 reach of the brutes. His captors are on horse¬ 
 back and making all kinds of threats', telling the 
 prisoner that is the way they bring back run¬ 
 away niggers and Yankees. This is called 
 “Southern chivalry!” Its more proper name is 
 “Southern barbarity and deviltry !” 
 
 November 23rd. The dawning of this morn¬ 
 ing brought us suffering beyond the power of 
 
 167 
 
words' to express. We are hungry, cold and 
 heart-sick. For some reason unknown to us we 
 were allowed to go without any rations—noth¬ 
 ing to eat since day before yesterday. This lack 
 of food and exposure to the intense cold, is 
 increasing the number of sick, which, of course, 
 means a large increase in the death-roll. The 
 lime with which the rebel cooks attempt to raise 
 the bread they give us to eat is having its nat¬ 
 ural effect on the prisoners. The stomachs of 
 some have become so affected that they cannot 
 retain the bread, while others have such sore 
 mouths that they cannot eat the bread except 
 by breaking it into very small pieces, soaking 
 and boiling it, and then eating it with a spoon. 
 The teeth of many- have become loose, and in 
 some instances, have fallen out. Such are the 
 dreadful results arising from the very food these 
 monsters are giving us to subsist on. 
 
 The mustering officer made liis appearance 
 again to-day and has been using all his powers 
 of persuasion and flattery, backed up by great 
 promises, to induce the prisoners to enlist in his 
 miserable, rebel army. His offers to-day were, 
 one hundred dollars Confederate money, three 
 bushels of sweet potatoes', full rations and 
 twenty dollars per month. This is a strong 
 temptation to men who are starving to death, 
 especially when they know there is no hope 
 
 168 
 
whatever of a change in their condition, unless 
 death make it. To suffer day after day, hope¬ 
 less, starving, perishing, while, by a single act 
 the whole aspect of life might be changed to 
 comparative comfort and plenty is a severe test 
 of patriotism and loyalty. But that act would 
 mean treason to the Flag we swore to defend. 
 And it is wonderful to see with what determin¬ 
 ation and scorn these slowly-murdered men 
 reject the alternative. Death any time and in 
 any way! Treason and disloyalty, never! 
 
 The day has nearly closed and nothing lias 
 been given us to eat. Excitement is at fever- 
 heat. The prisoners are gathering in groups all 
 over the stockade .and are becoming desperate. 
 
 The question is discussed, “Must we yield to this 
 barbarous treatment without making an effort 
 of some kind in our own behalf?’ 7 But what 
 can men in our forlorn situation do? Guarded 
 by men whose greatest delight is to find some 
 excuse, even the slightest, for shooting us down 
 like dogs; loaded cannon trained so as to sweep 
 every part of the camp; in the clutches of men 
 who are deaf to all appeals of mercy and jus¬ 
 tice; no possible way of letting our Government 
 and friends know of the inhuman manner in 
 which we are being treated—what can we do? 
 Nothing! Only wait, suffer, starve and die, 
 
 169 
 
unless a just and merciful God in some way 
 interposes for our relief. 
 
 November 24tli. This is a cold, disagreeable 
 morning. Starvation, anxiety and suffering are 
 depicted on every face. “Bread! Bread!” This 
 is the cry and talk of famishing men by day—it 
 tills their dreams by night. Well, the bread has 
 come at last, but in quantity wholly insufficient 
 to satisfy our hunger; in quality, strong with 
 lime as usual. Poor and poisonous as it is, the 
 poor, famishing men devour it as rapidly and 
 voraciously as a ravenous beast would its prey. 
 
 There is considerable whispering going on 
 among the prisoners about making a concerted 
 rush for one of the gates, breaking it.down ana 
 gaining our liberty if we can, or dying, if we 
 must. Any fate is preferable to living in this 
 way. The great majority are determined to 
 remain loyal to our country and our Flag. If it 
 must be death by starvation or by the bullet, 
 the latter is our first choice. Hence, prepara¬ 
 tions and plans are being seriously and care¬ 
 fully made for an outbreak. While there is no 
 definite leader appointed, yet a number of the 
 Sergeants commanding the squads, among 
 whom were McBride of the 15th U. S. Infantry; 
 McManus, of New York; Dunnecliffe, of Phila¬ 
 delphia, Pa.; Spillane, of New York; Keys', of 
 the 14th U. S. Infantry; Murray, of a Maryland 
 
 170 
 
regiment; Carrol, of the 45th Pennsylvania 
 Infantry; Sullivan, of the 2nd Massachusetts 
 Infantry; D. H. Sheehan, 20th Michigan Infan¬ 
 try; the Sergeant Major of the 27th Michigan 
 Infantry, and others, consulted together and 
 made some plans, but it seemed to be impossible 
 to get any concert of action. The majority of 
 the prisoners look upon the movement as a very 
 unwise one, and the discussion of plans creates 
 so much excitement and discord that the friends 
 of the movement fear the rebel authorities will 
 discover our intentions and take measures to 
 defeat us. 
 
 Night brings its shadows and darkness, but 
 instead of bringing rest and relief to 1 suffering 
 men, it only intensities their miseries. One can 
 see groups of men, containing a dozen or more, 
 huddled together in the trenches for mutual 
 warmth, or crawling under the frame hospital 
 hoping to find shelter from the terrible cold of 
 these winter nights. 
 
 November 25th. The dawning of this morn¬ 
 ing ushered in a dreary, cold day. Desolation 
 and misery reign supreme. The naked and 
 ghastly forms of dead men are taken to the dead- 
 house from all over this desolate camp. Some 
 of them are actually frozen stiff. The list at 
 the dead-house yesterday numbered fifty-eight, 
 and it is constantly increasing. No rations 
 
 171 
 
have been issued to-day, so we are doomed to lie 
 
 t/ j 
 
 down another night foodless and shelterless. 
 Just think of it, ye who are rejoicing in plenty! 
 One pound of coarse corn meal bread the only 
 food for forty-eight hours, and the probability 
 is, for even a longer time than that! Is it pos¬ 
 sible that our friends in the North, and espe¬ 
 cially the Government at Washington, has for¬ 
 gotten us? If not, we cannot help asking why 
 some measures are not adopted by which we 
 can be released from these conditions? 
 
 To-day, at noon, the crisis came. A mere 
 handful of poor, weak, but desperate men 
 resolved to break away from this awful captiv¬ 
 ity or perish in the attempt. A rebel relief of 
 fifteen men entered the stockade at noon. 
 Forty-eight hours have elapsed since we have 
 tasted food. The men were weak and faint, but 
 desperation gave them superhuman strength. 
 All felt it was better to die by the swift bullets 
 of the guards than to longer endure their fiend¬ 
 ish, systematic murder by starvation. These 
 desperate prisoners, armed only with clubs, 
 sprang upon the rebel soldiers who, taken by 
 surprise, were quickly disarmed. One rebel 
 guard resisted, but a quick bayonet thrust soon 
 pui an end to his resistence. Another raised 
 his musket to shoot down a prisoner, but before 
 he could pull the trigger, his brains 'spattered 
 
 \ ' . 35 .H ; fi3 fmsm 
 
 172 
 
ATTEMPTED ESCAPE OF SALISBURY PRISONERS. 
 
the fence behind him. The guards were all 
 killed but one. His life was saved by a prisoner. 
 The prisoners, now aroused to the most desper¬ 
 ate frenzy and determination, made a rush for 
 the big gate, hoping to reach the arsenal, which 
 was located just north and west of the railroad 
 depot, arm themselves sufficiently to whip the 
 small detachment composing the garrison, then 
 march to the east and intercept {Sherman’s 
 army, which was supposed to be operating in 
 that direction. After the prisoners had seized 
 the arms of the guard, they found, to their great 
 disappointment, that they carried only one load 
 of ammunition each. The muskets were used 
 as clubs, but in this they were ineffectual, so 
 that only a few got through the gate and these 
 found themselves powerless to go any farther 
 because they had no ammunition. In a short 
 time every rebel musket wasi turned on the fight¬ 
 ing prisoners. Three field pieces were hurling 
 grape and cannister-shot into the struggling 
 mass of human beings. It so happened that a 
 train loaded with rebel soldiers was lying at the 
 depot at Salisbury, and these were rushed for¬ 
 ward and opened a deadly fire on the prisoners, 
 so that only a few of those who succeeded in 
 getting outside the gate lived to be driven back. 
 Thus the first insurrection in Salisbury was a 
 dismal failure. It could not have ended other- 
 
wise. There was no leadership, no well- 
 matured plans, no concert of action. The des¬ 
 perate men acted solely on the impulse of the 
 moment. It was an ill-advised, futile attempt. 
 It lasted hut a few moments, nevertheless, in 
 that short time, eighty-one were killed and 
 twice as many were wounded. The enemy were 
 so enraged that they kept up the tiring long 
 after the prisoners surrendered. The material 
 used by them for canister and grape shot on 
 this occasion, was round pieces of iron punched 
 out of boiler iron, about the size of the pieces 
 usually punched out to admit the rivets in mak¬ 
 ing steam boilers. Two of these pieces I have 
 carefully preserved as a memento of this terrible 
 day. This was the only attempt at insurrection 
 in any southern prison during the war, as far as 
 I have been able to learn. A day of greater 
 distress and suffering I never saw before. Noth¬ 
 ing to eat for nearly forty-eight hours; eighty- 
 one of our comrades shot dead and double the 
 number wounded. It is useless to expect that 
 any surgical aid will be given to the wounded 
 men, hence, most of them will soon follow those 
 who were killed outright. How can men live 
 in the midst of such surroundings? 
 
 After quiet had been restored two Confeder¬ 
 ate officersi came into the pen and began an 
 investigation for the purpose of finding out who 
 
 175 
 
were the leaders of the mutiny. At first they 
 offered to release whoever would give them the 
 desired information, but finding all their efforts 
 fruitless, they asked a man belonging to a 
 Pennsylvania regiment if lie would tell them 
 who the leader was, promising to reward him 
 with a parole aud transportation to the Fed¬ 
 eral lines, ' The brave man told them he did not 
 know, and even if he did know he would die 
 before he would betray him to his enemies. 
 This so enraged the officers that one of them 
 struck the soldier on the side of his face with 
 his sabre, knocking him down and cutting a 
 great gash along the side of his cheek. After 
 the officers had retired, those of us who remained 
 uninjured went to work to do what we could to 
 relieve the terrible sufferings of the wounded. 
 As we had no bandages, no medicines and no 
 surgeons, we could do but little for the poor fel¬ 
 lows. About 4 o’clock two surgeons came into 
 the prison with their instruments and appli¬ 
 ances to dress the wounds and amputate the 
 limbs of those whose condition required it. 
 
 Many such were found—two having each an arm 
 and one a leg taken off. These operations were 
 done in the crudest manner imaginable. A 
 rough table was placed inside and close to the 
 little gate, and on this the unfortunate men 
 were placed. The surgeons claimed they had 
 
 176 
 
neither chloroform nor ether, so the operations 
 were performed without anesthetics, and the 
 cries and piteous appeals of the poor fellows 
 were heard all oyer the camp. So terrible was 
 the sight and sounds that there was scarcely a 
 man who was not in tears. One man who was 
 badly wounded in the arm refused to have it 
 amputated, preferring, as he said, to die with, 
 his arm on his body, rather than be butchered 
 as his comrades had been. His friends entreated 
 him to submit to the operation in order to save 
 his life, but he resisted all entreaties and would 
 not submit. After the operations were per¬ 
 formed, the men were removed to the hospital, 
 which is only one stage nearer to the dead- 
 house. The hospital is oyer-crowded with the 
 men who were wounded in the break. A great 
 many are being cared for by their comrades out¬ 
 side! the hospital. Many a man who enjoyed a 
 comfortable hole in the ground, gave it up to 
 a wounded comrade, while he tramped, tramped 
 on the outside the long, weary night, glad to 
 know that by this act of self-sacrifice the life 
 of a brave, but unfortunate, comrade might be 
 saved. The dead who were killed in the break 
 for liberty were piled up outside the gate, and 
 were not counted in the list kept at the dead- 
 house, but were hauled direct to the trenches. 
 There is abundant testimony to corroborate, 
 
 177 
 
beyond a doubt, the awful fact, that one man 
 was hauled to the trenches with the dead while 
 the blood was still running from his wounds. 
 Some ,say he was allowed to die before he was 
 thrown in, but two respectable citizens of Salis¬ 
 bury, men of good standing, testify that he was 
 buried ailve. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Dead Bodies Encased in Ice—Extra horses to 
 the Dead Wagon—Many of the Wounded 
 Dying—Torture from Vermin—Tunnels 
 
 A ga i n—Col d - B1 o o de d Mu rders—Pr i so ners 
 
 Freezing—Insane from Hunger—Moral 
 
 Effects of Prison Torture—A Maniac’s Sad 
 Death—A Ration of Meat—Outside Dealers 
 —A Brutal Crime by a Guard—Deadly 
 Diseases—A Great Purchase—Great Excite¬ 
 ment-A Gold December Day—Rising vs. 
 
 Setting—Trading—Soup. 
 
 November 26th. Another cold, wet, dreary 
 night has closed, it rained all night, and the 
 weather was so cold that Ice formed on the trees 
 so thick that large limbs broke under the great 
 weight, making it dangerous for the men to seek 
 shelter under them. The wind is piercing cold 
 and snow is falling; all the prisoners, and especi¬ 
 ally of those who have no place of shelter from 
 the pitiless storm—and 1 of this class there are a 
 great many. No rations of any kind were issued 
 to us. yesterday, and owing to the great excite¬ 
 ment the dead were not hauled out. The sight is 
 
 179 
 
a sickening one to bekolcl and one that ought to 
 make even a savage hide liis face for shame, 
 llations were issued today, but we could easily 
 see that the fiends from whom we receive then) 
 would much) prefer to let us starve. It is the 
 same ol'd limed corn bread. A large number 
 are unable to eat the stuff until they first soak it 
 and boil it in water, and then they eat it with a 
 spoon. In hundreds of cases their stomachs are 
 so deranged by the lime in the bread, that it is 
 impossible for them to retain the stuff we are 
 compelled to call “bread.” 
 
 The men who were wounded yesterday are in 
 a terrible condition. Nothing is being done for 
 their relief and no food is given them to appease 
 their terrible hunger. Poor fellows! It is pain¬ 
 ful to hear them talk of the nice bread their 
 mothers and wives at home could make; liow 
 delicious the beefsteak and liam tasted when 
 fried by them. So constantly are pictures of 
 home and home plenty before them, that 
 no effort to change the conversation can 
 succeed. The home pantry and its con¬ 
 tents is the only subject of their conver¬ 
 sation by day, and by night. Two rebel 
 officers made their appearance in the prison and 
 have taken out six of the sergeants command¬ 
 ing the squads, swearing vengeance on them 
 
 180 
 
and claiming they were the ones who incited the 
 outbreak yesterday. 
 
 The dead wagon had to have an extra team 
 of horses to> it today in order to do its awful 
 work of hauling out the dead bodies of those 
 whom God has mercifully released from their 
 sufferings by death. Never did death seem more 
 appropriate and welcome than now. 
 
 November 27tli. Today reveals many deaths 
 among those who were wounded two’ days ago. 
 The death list among the sick is also increasing 
 
 very fast. The diseases most prevalent now 
 are Scurvy, Bloody Diarrhoea, Running Ulcers, 
 Gangrene and Fever. A simple change of diet, 
 or even a sufficient quantity of any wholesome 
 food, would check most of the cases of scurvy; 
 but such a humane act on the part of these 
 inhuman men is not to be thought of. Rather 
 would they do all they could to increase the 
 fatalities instead of decreasing them. To add to 
 the terrible plight of the sick in the hospital, 
 there is hardly a square inch of floor or wall 
 free from the terrible vermin of which I have 
 so often written. The poor fellows who have a 
 little strength left are always fighting them 
 with desperation, but the poor helpless sick and 
 wounded men suffer tortures beyond the power 
 of language to describe. The foul vermin are 
 literally devouring them alive. To see these 
 
 181 
 
1NTKRIOR OF BRICK HOSPITAL. 
 
men, the heroes of many hard-fought battles, 
 men who left happy homes and loving friends to 
 defend the Flag of their country, now weak and 
 helpless, covered with mud and filth of all 
 descriptions, writhing in unspeakable agony, 
 while maggots, worms and lice are crawling all 
 over their poor bodies', and even creeping from 
 mouth and eyes, and ears, was a siglit well cal¬ 
 culated to numb the brain, and chill the heart of 
 the most indifferent beholder. 
 
 The stock in tunnels is now at a high prem¬ 
 ium, the guards who have been stationed inside 
 the stockade having been removed, thus giving 
 the operators in these popular enterprises a bet¬ 
 ter chance to carry on their work without being 
 observed and disturbed. 
 
 November 28th. Since the outbreak of the 
 25th inst., many cold blooded murders have 
 been committed by the guards. Prisoners have 
 been shot down at the mere will of these 
 murderers, and no rebuke has been adminis¬ 
 tered by the authorities. The negro prisoners 
 are the special objects of their hate, but black 
 and white alike suffer. It has been currently 
 reported that for every prisoner shot and killed 
 the guard was promised a furlough for thirty 
 days ais his reward. I cannot vouch for the 
 truthfulness of this report. The fact that many 
 
 183 
 
prisoners have been killed without the slightest 
 provocation, I do know to be true. 
 
 November 29th. The victims of the outbreak 
 have helped to swell the numbers in the dead- 
 house today. As they receive no attention of 
 any kind they are fast dying off. Many of these 
 poor boys might have lived if their wounds had 
 received proper treatment, but the surgeons 
 attached to the prison gave them no care what¬ 
 ever. As a result, the death list numbers from 
 fifty to sixty a day. The increasing severity of 
 the cold and the continued lack of shelter, is 
 adding daily to the already intense suffering of 
 the prisoners in this stockade. Oliver Crocker, 
 one of our liut-familv, froze both of his feet last 
 night, to such an extent that lie can scarcely 
 walk. Quite a number of the prisoners have 
 become insane, being so reduced in strength by 
 constant exposure that the mind is no longer 
 able to bear the strain and endure the anguish. 
 The poor fellows wander here and there through 
 the camp, yelling as loudly as they can for 
 “Bread! Bread!” This one word, shouted 
 again and again, is the only word they utter. It 
 is) pitiful to hear them. The prison is fast 
 becoming an insane asylum. 
 
 November 30th. One result of this long per¬ 
 iod of confinement, with its accompanying mis¬ 
 ery, hungry, exposure and degradation, is that 
 

 many prisoners are losing all sense of right, 
 justice and honor. Petty thieving is practiced 
 to an alarming extent, adding to the general 
 misery. If a man happens to leave any of his 
 effects out of his sight, and even out of his 
 reach, they are speedily picked up by some 
 sneak, and the rightful owner has no assurance 
 of recovering his property. We dare not leave 
 our hut without leaving some one to guard it. 
 Rations must not be kept longer than we can 
 devour them. If put away, no- matter how 
 secretly they may be hidden, some poor fellow 
 sufferer is sure to find them and appropriate 
 them toi his own use. We dare not even go away 
 from the presence of our friends to eat the little 
 that is doled out to us. If a piece of bread is 
 displayed in some parts of the prison pen, and 
 the fortunate possessor is alone, two or three 
 poor, famishing fellows are sure to attack and 
 take it away from him. The number of deaths 
 for November registers 1043, an average of over 
 thirty-four for each day. 
 
 December 1st. A sad accident happened to 
 one of the unfortunate maniacs last night. Borne 
 time during the night lie fell into the sink on the 
 east side of the prison pen. As there was no 
 one near when the accident happened, he was 
 not discovered until this morning. The poor 
 fellow was too weak to extricate himself, and 
 
so lie died under these horrible conditions. 
 Rations have been issued to us quite regularly 
 since the 25th of November, but they have con¬ 
 sisted solely of the regulation corn bread. 
 Today a welcome change was made by the addi¬ 
 tion of some meat, the second we have had since 
 taking up our abode here. As may well be sup¬ 
 posed, it was very scanty in quantity, and very 
 poor in quality. The amount alloted to two men 
 would not exceed one-fourth of a pound, and 
 the meat consisted of livers, lungs, hearts and 
 heads of beeves killed for the rebel soldiers 
 guarding this prison and garrisoning the post of 
 Salisbury. Still it! is meat, and is relished as 
 only starving men can relish it. 
 
 December 2nd. The sutler is still in business, 
 but his trade is not thriving, owing to the great 
 searcitv of money among the men who would be 
 his patrons if they could. He lias to contend 
 against the competition of the citizens who wait 
 along the road to the creek, where we get our 
 water, and among whom a good deal of traffick¬ 
 ing is carried on by the men who go out on the 
 water detail. They prefer to take, trade of 
 almost any description rather than Confederate 
 scrip, for whatever they have to sell. They do 
 not have faith in their * own money, and, at 
 heart, I ami sure they have just as little faith 
 in their bogus government and their dying 
 
 186 
 
cause. Today I received from one of these out¬ 
 side pedlars a large plug of tobacco, three sweet 
 potatoes, a corn dodger, weighing fully one 
 pound, all for one finger ring. I also have a 
 promise of a pound of butter tomorrow after¬ 
 noon for another ring like it. What a treasure 
 for so small a thing! 
 
 December 3rd. A most henious crime was 
 perpetrated by one of the guards today. A pris¬ 
 oner saw a piece of wood just across the dead 
 line that had, in some way been split from one 
 of the stockade logs. While he was in the act 
 of reaching over the line to get the piece of 
 wood a guard shot him dead. The ball crashed 
 through his head, killing him instantly. Many 
 believe that the guard purposely split off the 
 piece of wood and threw it where lie knew some 
 poor fellow would be tempted to reach for it, 
 and all for the purpose of getting an opportun¬ 
 ity to kill a Yankee. What brave soldiers they 
 are, indeed! 
 
 The scurvy is fast spreading among the pris¬ 
 oners!, many being already doomed by it. How 
 easily this could be remedied by a change in the 
 stuff they call food, but no step has been taken, 
 or is likely to be taken, in that direction. And 
 to make matters worse, the men affected by the 
 disease receive no medical treatment whatever. 
 The diarrhoea is also raging to an alarming 
 
 187 
 
extent. Men suffering from this terrible disease 
 are also left without treatment, except such as 
 they may be able to> provide themselves by peel¬ 
 ing the bark from the oak trees inside the 
 enclosure. This bark is steeped in water and 
 a strong tea made and drank for a remedy. So 
 
 M 
 
 numerous have been the cases of this disease 
 that many of the trees are peeled of ever} 7 bit 
 of bark as high up as a man can reach while 
 standing on another man’s shoulders. Then the 
 squad of men detailed to go into the timber for 
 wood get blackberry roots, which gives us the 
 best remedy we have found. Unfortunately the 
 supply is very limited, as we can only get the 
 roots occasionally. 
 
 Today I again went with the water squad and 
 found my man awaiting me with his roll of but¬ 
 ter. I gave him the ring and became the proud 
 and fortunate possessor of one pound of butter, 
 which I found to be a valuable addition to 
 my “pantry.” Instead of spreading it on my 
 bread—my lime-raised corn bread—as common 
 people would do, I put a piece about the size of 
 a walnut in my cup when making my coffee, 
 which imparts a better flavor to it. 
 
 Gold blooded murders are of nearly every day 
 occurrence. Today a guard fired into a crowd of 
 men that had congregated together, but with 
 no wrong intent. After lie fired he commanded 
 
 188 
 
them to disperse. Since the insurrection of the 
 25th of November the prison authorities have 
 been very watchful. The guards have strict 
 orders to prohibit any number of men from con¬ 
 gregating together in any part of the prison 
 grounds, fearing they may be devising plans 
 for another outbreak. And the cruel guards are 
 not slow to take advantage of every opportunity 
 offered to put their cruel orders into execution, 
 even though the facts do not call for such sum¬ 
 mary measures. 
 
 December 5th. The prison: is in a state of 
 great excitement this morning. By some provi¬ 
 dential manner a rebel paper found its way into 
 the prison, and it contained an editorial saying 
 that the next week we were to be paroled. While 
 some were very hopeful that the editorial was 
 true, others prophesied that it was only a ruse 
 of our enemies to keep us quiet, because their 
 actions have given evidence that, noth with¬ 
 standing their superior advantages, they are 
 afraid of us, and this paper was sent into the 
 prison for the purpose of keeping the prisoners 
 in good spirits in hope of a near release. The 
 paper was printed on the plain side of wall 
 paper. 
 
 December 6th. This is a very cold and dis¬ 
 agreeable morning. Last night the weather was 
 so cold that it snowed and froze. It is sad and 
 
 189 
 
painful to see the poor barefooted fellows walk 
 around in the snow as long as they can stand it, 
 and then, brushing the snow from their bare 
 feet, sit down on them to try and put some 
 warmth into them. In many cases the joints 
 of their limbs are swelled to twice their natural 
 size, while the vermin have eaten sores from 
 their hips to their ankles, so that when they 
 bend their limbs the sores crack open and bleed, 
 causing intense pain. I have seen several men 
 from, whose hip joints the skin was entirely 
 gone, leaving the bones exposed, caused by the 
 poison infused into them by the graybacks. The 
 irritation produced is so great that it is almost 
 impossible to refrain from scratching the sores, 
 which increases the irritation and suffering. 
 
 December Tth. Kind reader, let me draw 
 upon your imagination to create a picture that 
 will give you a faint idea of what life in Sails 
 bury Prison means. Imagine, if you can, a cold, 
 raw* December day; the ground covered with 
 snow and slush; a cold, drizzling rain falling; 
 fully one-half of the prisoners without cover- 
 ing or shelter of any kind, not even a hole in the 
 ground; hatless, shoeless, with no clothing save 
 a light blouse, or shirt and pants, and these all 
 tattered and torn, tied up with strings to hold 
 them together; no food save'a small piece of 
 corn bread raised with lime, made out of musty 
 
 190 
 
WINTER COSTUME IN SALISBURY. 
 
 191 
 
meal, only half baked, and that given only once 
 a day. This is not a picture, a dream, a fancy— 
 it is a; living, terrible fact, as thousands of 
 Union soldiers can testify. Do you wonder that 
 it keeps a four-horse wagon and several men 
 busy to bury the dead each day? 
 
 Since the weather has become so cold we have 
 
 « 
 
 made a very valuable addition to the comfort of 
 our hut in the shape of a fireplace built of mud, 
 and as both ends of the hut are open the smoke 
 is easily carried away. In this fireplace we can 
 boil our coffee with a. very small amount of 
 wood. 
 
 December 8tli. It is a sad thought that many 
 who saw the sun go down last evening are not 
 alive to greet him this morning—no less than 
 twenty-one poor, suffering men died during the 
 night and were taken to the dead house, from 
 thence to be carted away and thrown into a 
 trench with as little respect as one would throw 
 a dead animal into a refuse-pit. Many a poor 
 fellow who yet lives is only too glad of the privi¬ 
 lege oU getting the scanty clothing which the 
 dead had on. Some will take the legs of panta¬ 
 loons and draw them over their bare feet, fold¬ 
 ing them under, then bring them up and tie 
 them' around their ankles, thus making a com¬ 
 fortable pair of moccasins which, to a man des- 
 
 192 
 
titute of shoes, and compelled to walk in the 
 snow day and night, is a great relief. 
 
 December 9th. This morning I was again so 
 fortunate as to be permitted to go out with the 
 water squad. I had an opportunity to trade a 
 ring for a corn-dodger. One of the old guards 
 informed me this was the coldest morning he 
 had ever known in this region, and he was an 
 old resident of the place, haying lived here for 
 over twenty years. You, dear reader, can imag¬ 
 ine what the prisoners must suffer, being desti¬ 
 tute of shoes, clothing and shelter. 
 
 December 10th. The weather has moderated 
 somewhat. The snow is melting, and conse¬ 
 quently the mud is deep all over the camp. One 
 misfortune attending the melting of snow and 
 the falling of rain is, that the loose dirt covering 
 of many of the dug’-out allows the water to run 
 through, causing the dirt toi cave in and thus 
 ruin the only shelter many of the poor fellows 
 have. People in good, comfortable houses can¬ 
 not realize what an irreparable misfortune it is 
 for a man to lose even his poor dug-out. To do 
 so means that he must stand out in all kinds of 
 
 weather absolutely shelterless. 
 
 €/ 
 
 Today our ration of corn bread was accom¬ 
 panied by one pint of weak soup to each man, 
 each pint of soup having about one dozen beans 
 
 193 
 
 - 
 
and two dozen maggots in it. But we are not 
 fastidious) enough to object to the quality, it is 
 the lack of sufficient quantity that causes com¬ 
 plaints to 1 be made. We are willing to take the 
 soup and beans and not make any fuss about 
 the maggots. 
 
 194 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A Great Misfortune—A Good Means of Recre¬ 
 ation—Visit the Hospital—A Dead Horse— 
 Food a Little Better—Dead, 1252—Gray- 
 backs Galore—The Trade of Market Square— 
 Rumors of Exchange—Escaped Prison-era— 
 Disloyal Guards—A Prisoner Killed—Col¬ 
 ored Prisoners Dying—A Side Dish—The 
 Breaky-Bone Fever—Two Escaped Prisoners 
 Caught—Heavy Skirmishing (?)—Terrible 
 Suffering—Contrast Between Rebel and 
 Union Prisoners. 
 
 December 11th. A great, misfortune occurred 
 last night which blasted the hopes of many poor 
 fellows. A tunnel which was nearly completed, 
 the outer end of it having been carried beyond 
 the stockade, caved in last night just outside, 
 and so close to the stockade that three or four 
 of the posts settled into it, completely ruining 
 the tunnel and carrying dismay and sore disap¬ 
 pointment to the poor fellows who had toiled so 
 long and so hard to complete it, hoping thereby 
 to effect their escape. The disaster was caused 
 
 195 
 
by the ground becoming soaked with water from 
 the melting snows. While digging tunnels has 
 not been very successful, the enterprises have 
 not been altogether valueless. The work gives 
 relief from the monotony of prison life, keeps 
 the bodies of the operators warm, and encour¬ 
 ages them with bright hopes and expectations 
 of success in gaining their liberty. Alas! how 
 few of those who have gone through the ones 
 successfully completed, lived to reach the land 
 of freedom and of home! 
 
 December 12th. A visit through the hospital 
 to-day revealed the sad fact that the last one 
 
 of the wounded placed therein has died of his 
 
 * 
 
 wounds. There are only five of the victims left 
 inside the stockade, and these were among the 
 number who were slightly wounded. The loss 
 of that awful day must number between two 
 and three hundred. 
 
 As the dead-wagon was hauling out its load 
 of precious freight to-day, numbering about 
 twenty dead bodies, the road being very muddy, 
 one of the horses balked inside the stockade. 
 One of the guards became angry and attacked 
 the poor brute with his bayonet. In doing so, 
 the hammer of his gun caught on his leg in such 
 a way that it was discharged, the ball striking 
 the horse just behind the front leg, killing him 
 almost instantly. We thought now was our 
 
 196 
 
opportunity to get some fresh meat, and we 
 united in asking the prison authorities permis¬ 
 sion to dress the dead horse, but they refused 
 the request. We then tried to buy the carcass, 
 and more money was offered for it than the 
 horse was w r orth while living. At this point an 
 officer stepped to the gate and put a stop to all 
 further negotiations by ordering the teamsters 
 to haul the dead beast out immediately. One 
 man asked the officer why he would not let us 
 have the horse. His answer was: 
 
 “I do not want youhins to go home and tell 
 the folksi up thar that we’uns fed you’uns on 
 dead hoss.” 
 
 But what a luxury a piece of nice, clean, dead 
 “hoss” would have been, in comparison to lime- 
 raised, half-baked corn bread and maggoty soup. 
 
 December 13th. Our rations come with more 
 regularity and with some improvement in their 
 quality. The meal is ground finer, and if any lime 
 is used in raising the bread, it is so little that its 
 presence is not easily detected. The quantity is 
 about the same. The bread which has been 
 issued up to> this time has had a terrible effect 
 on our stomachs. This, together with the 
 scurvy, which is very prevalent, is making great 
 inroads on our numbers'. From the 13th of 
 November to the night of the 12th of the present 
 month (December), the dead numbers 1252. 
 
 197 
 
These figures were taken from the book at the 
 dead house, which registers the correct number 
 taken out to the trenches for what they are 
 pleased to call “burial.” These trenches, with 
 the brutal scenes enacted in and about them, 
 makes the darkest spot on the character of this 
 nation, and will be remembered as the infamy 
 of the leaders of the rebellion a,s long as time 
 lasts. 
 
 December 14th. The weather is so cold that 
 it has been impossible for ns to- take off the few 
 rags we have on our poor bodies to skirmish for 
 graybacks. As a consequence, they have become 
 so numerous that they are literally eating us 
 up. There is not a vessel inside the stockade 
 large enough to boil a shirt in. The only way 
 to exterminate them is to- take off the garment, 
 or what is left of it, sit on one end of it while 
 the fighting is carried on at the other end. But 
 under the present conditions of the weather it 
 is impossible to remain naked so long. This 
 gives them a chance to multiply with fearful 
 rapidity, which they do. 
 
 “Market Square,” as it is called, is getting to 
 be a place of great notoriety. It is located just 
 west and south of the wooden hospital, and is 
 the nicest piece of ground in the stockade. Any¬ 
 one having anything to sell or trade can always 
 find a market for it by going to this place and 
 
 198 
 
letting the fact be known. Brass buttons com¬ 
 mand a price ranging from two to three dollars 
 each; a cup of water for a chew of tobacco, and 
 vice versa. An old soup bone that has been 
 gnawed for twenty-four hours, will usually sell 
 for five dollars. This, if it has a poms end, is 
 broken to pieces, placed in a tin can and boiled 
 for an hour or two, then bread crumbs are 
 added to it and boiled, making a dish which 
 brings great satisfaction and delight to the for¬ 
 tunate possessor. The articles for sale on 
 “Market Square” are as numerous and assorted 
 as the contents of a boy’s pocket. The bone 
 jewelers will pay as high as two and three dol 
 lars for an old, dry bone. 
 
 December 15th. Encouraging news was 
 started in prison today. It is rumored that an 
 exchange of prisoners is soon to be consum¬ 
 mated, and we are to go home. Some are ready 
 to catch at every rumored hope of release from 
 this terrible torture, as eagerly as a drowning 
 man is said to catch at straws. Others put no 
 credence whatever in ,such rumors, believing 
 them to be started by our enemies that the pain 
 of disappointment might be another ingredient 
 in our cup of bitterness. 
 
 When the blood hounds were taken on their 
 customary tour around the stockade today, at 
 a certain point they began baying and started 
 
 199 
 
out on what their keepers call a “hot trail of an 
 escaped Yank.” The entire herd of blood 
 hounds were let loose to find the fugitives. It is 
 supposed one of the guards was bribed to let 
 the prisoner escape. A careful search was made 
 for tunnels, or breaks in the stockade, but 
 none were found. The only possible means 
 of escape was over the stockade, and that 
 could not be accomplished unless the guard 
 were asleep or bribed. The latter is not 
 improbable, as the old guards are on duty, and 
 they are much more favorable to us than the 
 young ones. Woe be to the poor prisoner who 
 should approach one of the youngsters, or “Jun¬ 
 ior Guards,” with a proposition to let him 
 escape. He would escape, but it would be by a 
 ball crashing through his heart or brain. 
 
 December 16th. The secret of the escape of a 
 prisoner night before last was discovered this 
 morning. It seems that five of the prisoners 
 bribed one of the old guards to let them escape, 
 and lie did so. They went out at the big gate. 
 The discovery of this transaction has caused 
 great excitement among the prisoners and rebel 
 authorities. The escape was discovered and 
 reported to the prison commander by one of the 
 “young bloods.” As a result, the old guards are 
 under arrest. No tidings of the fugitives or 
 their pursuers have been received up to this 
 
 200 
 
time. The authorities have become very strict. 
 No gathering of the prisoners in any consider¬ 
 able number in any part of the prison is 
 allowed!. If a crowd does gather they are 
 ordered to disperse at once, and if the order is 
 not quickly obeyed they are fired into. In many 
 instances! the shot has been fired before the 
 order has been given. Such was the case today 
 in the northwest part of the prison. A crowd 
 had congregated when a ball was sent crashing 
 among them, followed by the order to disperse. 
 This time there was not much pity wasted on 
 the unfortunate man wbo< was killed. The 
 murder took place in the famous, or infamous, 
 “Devil’s Den,” the victim) being one of their own 
 convicts. It would have been the same if the 
 crowd had been composed of Union soldiers. No 
 favors are shown to any. 
 
 December 17th. The colored prisoners are 
 fast disappearing, death cutting them down 
 every day. They are a pitiful lot to behold. 
 Their sufferings are even more intense than the 
 suffering of the white soldiers. All ambition to 
 live seems to have died out in them. They 
 become so despondent that they will tumble 
 down almost anywhere, give up the struggle, 
 and die. I was allowed toi go out with the 
 water-squad today. One of the guards 
 informed us that the rumor of an exchange of 
 
 201 
 
prisoners, was freely talked about on the out¬ 
 side;, and lie believed it was true. But it will 
 never do to build any hopes on these rumors, 
 because when they prove to be false, as they 
 always do, the effect of the disappointment is 
 highly disastrous to the prisoners. 
 
 Our rations today had another side-dish com¬ 
 posed of the same as lias been given us on one or 
 two other occasions, and which is dignified with 
 the name, “meat.” The amount given us is very 
 small. Only] about: three or four ounces to 
 each man. It serves to intensify rather than 
 satisfy our hunger. 
 
 December 18th. This: is a cold, rainy Sab¬ 
 bath day. Mud ankle deep, and not a dry place 
 in the stockade. The suffering of the naked and 
 shelterless men is beyond description. The 
 deaths are as numerous outside as inside the 
 hospital. The scurvy is on the increase, and a 
 disease called the “Breakybone Fever” is attack¬ 
 ing nearly all the men. All this comes from the 
 extreme exposure and the lack of proper food, 
 from which all are suffering. Both these 
 diseases are very contagious and fatal, espe¬ 
 cially among those who are reduced in flesh and 
 vitality. The limbs swell to an enormous size, 
 causing excruciating pain, especially in the 
 joints. The pain is even more severe than the 
 pain of neuralgia. 
 
 202 
 
December 19th. This morning two of the 
 escaped prisoners were returned to the prison. 
 They report that the other three got separated 
 from them and the hunters were unable to dis¬ 
 cover their tracks. They entertain a good hope 
 that, having eluded their pursuers, they have 
 made good their escape to our lines. The two 
 men captured were kept at Major Gee’s head¬ 
 quarters all night, where every effort was made 
 to extort from them the manner in which they 
 escaped, and which of the guards aided them. 
 But to the honor of the men, they would not 
 reveal anything to the rebel commander. 
 
 December 20th. The weather having moder¬ 
 ated, we are skirmishing for “game.” The pris¬ 
 oners are taking advantage of the mildness 
 of the day and are engaged in the laudable and 
 necessary duty of hunting graybacks. And 
 they do not have to hunt long or go far, to find 
 them galore. While the men are in a nude 
 state it is painful to look at them. Many are 
 so poisoned by the vermin that running, ulcer¬ 
 ated sores cover their limbs from the hips down 
 to the ankles. They receive no medical treat¬ 
 ment and have no means of cleansing their poor 
 bodies. The extreme filth and poison intensifies 
 these ulcerous sores, which soon results in blood 
 poison and a slow, but sure, death. However, 
 when death comes their sufferings are ended, 
 
 203 
 
so that after all death is the best friend of the 
 poor fellows and is longed for by many. 
 
 For several days a Oat hoi ic priest has been 
 visiting the pen, hunting up the sheep of his 
 flock, and offering all who will go out with him 
 better quarters and more wholesome food. This 
 offer is made only to those of the Catholic faith. 
 Many of his own flock are suspicious of his 
 motives. So far only a few have accepted of his 
 invitations. 
 
 It is wonderful how ready the prisoners are 
 to appreciate and make merry over a good joke, 
 notwithstanding their extreme suffering. A 
 good one has just come to our knowledge, and 
 is causing many smiling faces, and much sharp, 
 but pleasant, bantering between the guards and 
 ourselves. A correspondent for one of the New 
 York papers, named Richardson, has; been in 
 fti e pen for some time, but has also been busily 
 engaged in maturing a plan for his escape. Day 
 before yesterday lie carried his plans into execu¬ 
 tion by assuming the role of a hospital physi¬ 
 cian, and as such, he boldly walked up to one 
 of the gates and passed out, the guard showing 
 him all the respect due one of their own physi¬ 
 cians (?). His plan succeeded admirably and he 
 is now breathing free air, while he is making all 
 speed towards the Federal lines, followed by 
 our earnest prayers that he may succeed in 
 
 204 
 
escaping the rebels and their blood hounds. His 
 absence was not discovered until late today. We 
 are joking the guards over this exhibition of 
 Yankee ingenuity deceiving their authorities 
 and throwing even the blood hounds off the 
 trail. They wince under it, but have to 
 admit it. 
 
 December 21st. Great suffering prevails 
 among the prisoners, caused by the breaky- 
 bone fever, nearly all of whom are affected 
 by it, myself among the number. My ankles 
 and knees are badly swollen. About 1 
 o’clock every afternoon the torturing pain 
 begins, and continues with such severity that 
 it is impossible to sleep or rest. The excruciat¬ 
 ing pain continues until about 8 o’clock in the 
 morning, when it disappears, only to return 
 with increased vigor when evening again 
 appears. The only way by which the affected 
 men can gain any relief is to sit close to a hot 
 fire, almost roasting the knees and ankles, but 
 owing to the scarcity of wood, and the limited 
 number of fires, few of the sufferers can avail 
 themselves of this remedy. The rest have to 
 keep walking, painful though it is, to keep the 
 blood in circulation. When exhaustion comes 
 on, as it surely does, they are compelled to sit 
 down and resort to the measure of chafing the 
 limbs and parts affected. The hospital sur- 
 
 205 
 
/; 
 
 geons make no effort whatever to give us medi¬ 
 cine, or afford us relief of any kind. 
 
 December 22nd. I had a talk today with a 
 rebel soldier who has been in the military 
 prison at Rock Island, Illinois, and has recently 
 been exchanged. He says that while the south¬ 
 ern leaders are anxious to effect a general 
 exchange of prisoners, the authorities at Wash¬ 
 ington are opposed to it, claiming that to do so 
 would be to very greatly reinforce the armies of 
 the Confederacy, and by so much increase its 
 lighting strength and prolong the horrors of the 
 war. What a wide contrast exists between the 
 condition of the rebel prisoners in the northern 
 prisons and Union prisoners in the prison pens 
 of the south. The former,being well-fed, clothed, 
 sheltered and cared for, when exchanged, return 
 south stronger and more able-bodied than when 
 they were captured, and are ready to return at 
 once toi their regiments in the field. But what 
 a sorry lot of soldiers the victims of southern 
 prisons, the victims of starvation, exposure, 
 cruelty, neglect and disease would make! Even 
 when they are exchanged and permitted to go 
 north, it takes months of the most skillful med¬ 
 ical attendance and careful nursing to restore 
 them tot health, and many thousands of the poor 
 fellows are so diseased and broken down that 
 they never will recover, but must eke out a poor, 
 
 206 
 

 miserable existence until death comes to their 
 relief. We would a thousand times rather fight 
 them in honorable battle, in open field, than 
 satisfy their fiendish delight in seeing us com¬ 
 pelled to endure such wretchedness as they heap 
 upon us. 
 
 207 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 A Gloomy Christmas — My Christmas Dinner— 
 Working While Suffering — Letters—New 
 Prisoners — A Royal(?) Visitor—Libby vs. 
 Salisbury — Hell and Purgatory—Deaths 
 
 Increasing — From the Dead to the Living—A 
 Grewsome Kind of Trade — The Effects of 
 Scurvy — The Last Day of 1864 — A Gloomy 
 New Year’s Day — A Sickening Sight—Fall of 
 the Bakery Chimney — A New Mode of Burial 
 — Punished for Disobedience — Citizen Pris- 
 ers — Tobacco and Food. 
 
 December 23rd. The Chrismas season is again 
 drawing nigh. What a great contrast there is 
 between this and other Christmas seasons I have 
 spent. What preparations for merry-making 
 we used to indulge in before the years when the 
 terrible war-cloud settled down upon the land! 
 But no preparations are being made now, at 
 least, not by the “citizens” of Salisbury prison- 
 pen. Although so close to the great festal day, 
 there are many who are alive this morning, who 
 will not be living when Christmas morning 
 
 208 
 
dawns. It is enough to touch the hardest heart 
 with pity to see groups of starved, suffering 
 Union soldiers, now the victims, as prisoners, 
 of southern deviltry and hate, and hear them 
 talking about the good things in their mother 
 pantries at home—the roast turkey, mince pies 
 and the other delicacies so common in northern 
 homes at Christmas time. Their suffering is 
 increased by the consciousness that for them 
 there can be only hunger and misery, unrelieved 
 by any ray of hope for the future. God only 
 sees and understands the full meaning of the 
 contrast to the men who are passing through it. 
 
 December 24th. Last night was one of excru¬ 
 ciating torture to me. My feet are so badly 
 swollen this morning that I cannot wear my old, 
 patched-up shoes, while my knees and ankles 
 are so weak and painful that I can scarcely 
 walk. Such pain as I endure is beyond descrip¬ 
 tion. I sat in the hut all day and improved the 
 confinement by making a ring, hoping to be 
 able to trade it for some bit of food that will 
 
 make my Christmas a little more happy than 
 
 * 
 
 the ordinary days of the year. 
 
 .December 25th. Christmas is here, but as I 
 was unable to get out with the water squad I 
 was unable to procure anything extra to eat. 
 It has been a dismal day to the prisoners of 
 
 209 
 
Salisbury. There was not enough joyous feel¬ 
 ing in the whole prison to prompt a.man to say 
 as much as “Christmasi Gift!’ 7 The only talk 
 is of home and its good Christmas cheer. No 
 matter to what group of men one may go, or 
 what kind of conversation one may introduce, it 
 will not be long until the thought and the talk 
 of the group will drift back to the old, but 
 pleasing, subject, of how their mothers: used to 
 cook. Dear reader, do not laugh! We are 
 slowly but surely dying of hunger! Our talk is 
 the only way we have of satisfying the unspeak¬ 
 able craving of our famished bodies for food. 
 
 As the day advanced I went to the sutler and 
 succeeded in trading him the ring I had made 
 for two corn meal biscuits, a small piece of 
 boiled beef, not to exceed four ounces, five pota¬ 
 toes, about the size of walnuts, and sixteen 
 grains of black pepper. You cannot realize 
 how rich I felt. The meat I put in an oyster 
 can, cut the potatoes fine and put them in, then 
 added the pepper, filled the can with water, 
 placed it on the fire, and watched the process of 
 cooking my Christmas dinner. I soon found 
 that my can was not large enough.to hold it all, 
 so I borrowed another can and divided the mess. 
 In due time it wasi cooked in fine shape, and 
 never did prince, potentate or king eat his 
 sumptuous feast with such relish and delight as 
 
 210 
 
I ate my Christinas' dinner of 1864 in Salisbury 
 Prison. 
 
 December 26th. This morning finds me 
 unable to walk, my feet being so tender I cannot 
 bear my weight upon them without suffering 
 great pain. Oliver Crocker is my companion in 
 tribulation and retirement, his feet being so 
 blistered from being frozen that he is not able to 
 walk. We two occupy the hut all day. This 
 gives us an opportunity of making rings, for 
 which I am thankful. If it were not for my 
 good fortune in the ring trade I must certainly 
 starve. Fortunately anything made by a Yank 
 is considered by the citizens of this region to be 
 a grea t prize, invaluable to them as mementoes, 
 and for which they are willing to trade food of 
 such kinds as they have, when they would not 
 sell it for rebel scrip. 
 
 A number of the prisoners received letters 
 from home to day, but as I was not acquainted 
 with any of the fortunate ones, I heard no news 
 of interest to me. It is impossible to get any 
 news of importance in letters from the north, a,s 
 nothing is allowed to come into the prison 
 except news of a purely family character. 
 
 December 27th. We had an addition of five 
 prisoners to our number this morning. They 
 had escaped from Andersonville during the 
 
 211 
 
early part of the month, and after much wander¬ 
 ing around, through the country, were finally 
 recaptured near Raleigh and brought to this 
 prison for confinement. They report having 
 endured terrible suffering while wandering 
 through the swamps and rivers in order to hide 
 their tracks from the bloodhounds which were 
 put on their track. 
 
 A rebel officer of high rank, •said to be Gen¬ 
 eral Winder, accompanied by his staff, reviewed 
 the prison to-day. His face is a good index to 
 his base heart. He was promoted by the South¬ 
 ern War Department to be Oommander-inChief 
 of all the prisons in the south because he pos¬ 
 sessed the qualifications necessary for such a 
 position—a brute nature in a human form. 
 
 December 28th. The weather continues to 
 be very cold. I am still suffering great agony 
 from my swollen limbs—am unable to sleep at 
 night or walk during the day. My condition is 
 becoming deplorable. How little we know 
 what the future has in store for us. We often 
 sing, “It is Better Farther On,” but such has 
 not been the experience of those who were 
 removed from Libby Prison to Salisbury Prison. 
 Bad as the former prison was, it was a palace 
 compared to the prison we are now in. There 
 we had plenty of good, pure water, good shelter 
 from the cold and storms, and a fair quality of 
 
 212 
 
bread for our rations. Here, thousands of the 
 poor fellows have no shelter whatever, while we 
 often suffer for water, and always for food. We 
 were all anxious to get away from Libby—we 
 would now rejoice to be permitted to return 
 to it. 
 
 December 29 th. I had a talk to-day with one 
 of the recaptured Andersonville prisoners. He 
 reports the treatment and suffering of the men 
 there about the same as here. However, they 
 have one luxury given to them there which we 
 do not get here—bean soup. With this excep¬ 
 tion, he says Andersonville and Salisbury stand 
 related to each other as hell and purgatory. 
 
 The deaths are constantly increasing. Our 
 clothing is becoming more and more dilapidated 
 by the constant wear and tear to which it is 
 subjected. If Jeff Davis does not send a corps 
 of tailors here very soon to replenish our ward¬ 
 robes, we will be in much the same condition 
 we were in when we first opened our eyes on 
 this wicked world. Those who can get hold of 
 a “stiffs” (the dead are called “stiffs”) clothes, 
 are considered to be fortunate. How inhuman 
 even honorable men can become under the ter¬ 
 rible power of suffering! It is a frequent occur¬ 
 rence for the men who are detailed to gather up 
 the dead, to find bodies in different parts of the 
 prison pen. They were dragged there from 
 
 218 
 
tlieir huts, or places of shelter, after they had 
 died, to be stripped of their clothes by the liv¬ 
 ing. They are left lying where they were 
 stripped, are gathered np and delivered to the 
 sergeant in command of the dead-house. In 
 other instances the dead bodies are sold as arti¬ 
 cles of commerce by those who find them, the 
 value of a body being estimated by the quantity 
 and quality of the clothing it has on. The cloth 
 ing becomes the property of the one buying the 
 body. 
 
 December 30th. This morning is the first 
 time I have been able to walk since Christmas 
 Day. I can walk but very little yet, my feet 
 being swelled to a great size. This is the condi¬ 
 tion of nearly all inside the stockade, many of 
 whom are unable to move about at all. The 
 prisoners, and they are many, who are affected 
 with scurvy are in even a more terrible condi¬ 
 tion. They present a ghastly appearance 1 — 
 mouth open, teeth loose, many of them gone, 
 and the inside of the mouth so sore they are 
 unable to swallow anything unless it is in liquid 
 form. The facilities for preparing liquid food 
 are so limited that these poor fellows are among 
 the greatest sufferers. 
 
 December 31st. This is the last day of the 
 year 1864. It also marks the last day on earth 
 of thirty-five brave and patriotic soldiers who 
 
 214 
 
preferred to die amid the tortures, of Salisbury 
 Prison than enjoy the comforts of the Southern 
 Confederacy by proving disloyal to their Gov¬ 
 ernment and its Flag. They leave about 8,000 
 comrades behind them who give notice to the 
 bogus Confederacy that they too are determined 
 to walk in the footsteps of these noble martyrs, 
 and will help to till trenches under the shadow 
 of the stockade, rather than give any aid or 
 comfort to their unholy cause. The atrocities 
 perpetrated within the stockade by the rebel 
 authorities, will be a stain on the reputation of 
 this country that can never be wiped out. 
 
 January 1st, 1865. What strange and radi¬ 
 cal changes a few months will sometimes bring 
 to pass. What a wide contrast I see between 
 my surroundings on the opening day of 1865 
 and those of one year ago! This ha,s been a 
 dismal, gloomy day to the prisoners in this 
 stockade. There is nothing going on to raise 
 the drooping spirits of the thousands of men 
 who have been hoping against hope. All oper¬ 
 ations in tunnel digging have ceased; exchange 
 stock is away below par—indeed there is none 
 at all in the market now. The only interest 
 that continues to hold its place in our minds is 
 the one great fact of hunger and something to 
 satisfy its cravings. Groups of starving men, 
 reduced to mere skeletons, may be seen huddled 
 
 215 
 
together talking of what they would have to 
 eat to-day if they were at home. The very 
 thought of home, its plenty and pleasures, 
 seems to impart strength to the poor fellows 
 who have nothing else to feed on. 
 
 January 2nd. The weather has become 
 
 o 
 
 warmer. A heavy mist, almost equal to a rain, 
 fell to-day. A horrible thing was brought to 
 light sometime during the day. A dead body, 
 badly decayed, was taken from one of the sinks. 
 From the appearance of the body it must have 
 been buried in the depths of the awful filth for 
 a week or more. No effort was made by the 
 prison authorities to remove the putrid remains 
 from the prison grounds. They said they would 
 have nothing to do with it until it was removed 
 to the dead-house, so there it will have to go or 
 remain unburied. 
 
 January 3rd. This morning the big hospital 
 (or “Slaughter House,” as it is justly named), 
 presents a sad spectacle. When the chimney 
 was erected, it was placed on the inside of the 
 hospital wall. The material used was a very 
 poor quality of soft brick. It was built up from 
 the ground without any foundation being 
 placed under it and the result is, the lower 
 courses of brick were crushed and the whole 
 structure fell the full length of the building, 
 killing ten men and wounding several others. 
 
 216 
 
It can scarcely be called a disaster—rather let 
 it be called a kind act of Providence by which 
 poor, suffering men are released from their 
 misery. 
 
 January 4th. The weather has become very 
 cold again. There was a severe frost last night. 
 The ground is frozen hard and a cold, northwest 
 wind is blowing, all of which increases the suf¬ 
 ferings of the exposed prisoners. The dead list 
 is climbing up at a rapid rate. Large numbers 
 of the men are suffering from badly frozen feet. 
 The intense cold also increases the agony 
 caused by the breaky-bone fever. I am again 
 unable to walk, my feet swelling so badly that 
 I am really alarmed. Large blue spots, painful 
 as boils, are making their appearance on them. 
 My poor stomach is in such a state that I can¬ 
 not retain the corn bread without soaking and 
 boiling it into a liquid form. My stomach seems 
 to be gradually shrinking as I can now eat only 
 one pint of this corn bread gruel in half a day, 
 and even this causes me great suffering. 
 
 January 5th. One advantage gained by a 
 residence in this prison is, that we are being 
 trained in new experiences as well as in new 
 observations. To-day I witnessed a new method 
 of removing dead bodies for burial. Two 
 negroes were brought into the prison having a 
 rope with a great hook attached to it. They 
 
 217 
 
went to the place where the dead body taken 
 from the sink yesterday was lying and throwing 
 the hook oyer the body, dragged it out to the 
 burying ground. It was in such a decomposed 
 condition that had it not been for the few rags 
 which covered it, it would have fallen to pieces 
 before it reached its last resting place. 
 
 We were punished to-day for not removing 
 the dead body ourselves by having our rations 
 withheld from us. Thus it will be seen that 
 every excuse they cau possibly find to make the 
 starving process more complete and sure, is 
 improved by them. 
 
 January 6th. To-day I visited the citizen 
 prisoners and hospitals. It seems unreasonable 
 that their own men should be kept confined in 
 this prison and away from their families;, with¬ 
 out any charge whatever being made against 
 them. At least no charges are made public. 
 The condition of these citizen prisoners is some¬ 
 what, better than the condition of the soldier 
 prisoners. They are kept by themselves, have 
 much better rations, and are favored with good 
 shelter from the storms and cold. The hos¬ 
 pitals remain in the same terrible condition 
 heretofore described. There is no change in 
 either the surroundings or the sufferings of the 
 sick. The dead-house registered thirty-four 
 dead to-day. 
 
 218 
 
Rations were issued and devoured with avid¬ 
 ity by famishing men. I finished a ring with 
 which I hope to be able to purchase some food 
 and tobacco. When my tobacco supply is 
 exhausted, my ration of corn bread looks very 
 small and its satisfying qualities are still 
 smaller. It is a real fact that the tobacco pos¬ 
 sesses such a stimulating power that when I am 
 without it my hunger causes terrible suffering, 
 but with it to supplement my supply of bread, 
 I am comparatively satisfied. Great is tobacco! 
 O, for more of it! 
 
 219 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 In Need of Fuel—A Sad Death in Our Hut—A 
 Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing—Soup and Salt— 
 The Secret of the Salt Revealed—Rebel Dev¬ 
 iltry—More Tobacco^—Awful Suffering—A 
 Dream—A Visitor—Red Peppers—Escaped 
 Prisoners Recaptured—Terrible Sights*—A 
 Tunnel Opened and About a Hundred Go Out 
 —The Escape Discovered—Meat—Wearing 
 Dead Men’s Clothing. 
 
 January 7th. Another very cold morning 
 and consequent suffering. The ration of fuel 
 allowed us is being reduced in proportion as our 
 bodily strength is reduced, as all we are allowed 
 is the amount three men can carry for each 
 squad. We select our stoutest men for detail 
 on the wood' squad, but as it is difficult to find 
 three men who are not affected with breaky- 
 bone fever or scurvy, the amount of green pitch- 
 pine they can carry such a long distance is very 
 small, but it is all we get. Crocker and myself 
 are able to walk around some now, but mv 
 ankles are still very sore and my feet are so 
 
 220 
 
tender the pain is very great- when I put them 
 on the ground. Crocker’s frozen feet have 
 healed sufficiently to enable him to walk a little, 
 but, as they were frozen into a solid blister, 
 which caused the skin to peel off, they are left 
 in a terrible condition. Just think of men being 
 left in such a state and no remedy whatever 
 given them! Who can find any excuse what¬ 
 ever for such brutal treatment? 
 
 A member of Co. “H,” of my regiment, and an 
 occupant of the south end of our dugout died 
 today. A strange thing about this death is that 
 it is the man who-, when we decided on this loca¬ 
 tion for our dugout, remarked! that it was so 
 handy to the dead-house our “friends would not 
 have far to carry us, when,” as lie expressed it, 
 “we handed in our checks.” Poor fellow! Little 
 did he think that he would be the first one to 
 be carried out. It is sad beyond expression to 
 see a comrade and friend; dying in such a shame¬ 
 ful manner and his comrades powerless to aid 
 him. But such is the fate we must all expect 
 unless relief comes to us very soon. 
 
 The Catholic priest is still making his daily 
 visits. He seems to manifest more interest in 
 the prisoners of foreign birth than in Ameri¬ 
 cans. It is generally believed that he is a rebel 
 recruiting officer in disguise. If lie is, and is 
 picking on foreigners as his easiest victims he 
 
 221 
 
will be left as badly a si he will be) when he 
 knocks for admission at “The Golden Gate.” 
 
 January 8th. We had another addition to 
 our rations today—a pint of spotted bean soup, 
 but, as usual, containing more worms than 
 beans. Still, a luxury of this kind! receives no 
 adverse criticism because there happen to be 
 worms in it. It is soup! The worms are the 
 trimmings—we wish it would come oftener, 
 worms and all. We also got about four ounces 
 of salt. But, what in the name of common sense 
 is the salt for? We have not a thing in the 
 world that we can use it on, in, or with. We are 
 a little like the Irishman who, when asked what 
 lie had to eat, replied: 
 
 “I have potatoes and salt for breakfast; salt 
 and potatoes for dinner; and salt without tim 
 potatoes for supper.” 
 
 We are having the Irishman’s supper. But 
 we had one painful lesson in “salt” taught us 
 when we eat the salt codfish in Libbv Prison the 
 night we started for our present residence. Can 
 it be they are arranging another pleasure trip 
 for us? I really hope so. It matters not where 
 they take us, it cannot be worse than this place 
 in which we are now confined. 
 
 January 9th. This morning Connely went 
 out with the wood-squad. I would like to have 
 the double rations given to the wood men, but 
 
 222 
 
I couldl not chop much wood. This morning 
 reveals the secret of these barbarous wretches 
 in giving us the salt yesterday. We were 
 informed that we must do without water today, 
 owing to the fact that they were unable to fur¬ 
 nish soldiers to guard the water-carriers, a 
 detachment of tlieir force having been sent 
 away on other duty. Our only resource for 
 water to quench our raging thirst is the filthy 
 stuff contained in the wells which act as catch- 
 basins, for all the filth from the living and dead 
 of this prison-pen. Some of the men are so 
 nearly crazed for water that they resort to the 
 expedient of scooping out holes in the ground, 
 and as the snow thaws in the middle of the day, 
 the water runs into the holes and is eagerly 
 drank by the poor fellows. This is filthy enough, 
 but is not quite so bad as that taken from the 
 wells. This, dear reader, is rebel chivalry. 
 Could Satan himself devise more ingenious 
 plains for murder by slow torture? 
 
 January 10th. I have been out of tobacco for 
 two days, but today I was fortunate to procure 
 a plug for the ring I finished a few days ago. 
 Not being able to walk sufficiently to go with 
 the water-squad, Connely went and made this 
 happy trade for me. He also brought in some 
 blackberry roots, which we boil and drink the 
 tea as medicine, which is all we have. Connely 
 
 223 
 
seems to endure the hardships and privations of 
 prison life better than most of the prisoners. 
 If do not know what I should do if he was not 
 here. He takes such a reasonable view of the 
 situation. He does not get despondent himself 
 and will not allow Crocker and myself to brood 
 and complain over our troubles, which we cer¬ 
 tainly would do if this happy, cheerful comrade 
 was not with us.' He is the counselor, adviser 
 and comfort of our little party. Sad would be 
 the day if he should be taken away from us. He 
 is a noble fellow. 
 
 January 11th. I am suffering terribly with 
 my feet and ankles this morning. My feet are 
 swollen so badly I cannot walk and my ankles 
 and legs are as blue as indigo. My mouth is 
 also very sore, while my teeth are so* loose that 
 it is difficult for me to eat. The meal of which 
 our bread is made is much coarser than form¬ 
 erly, and they are now putting more lime in it. 
 How men, professing to be human, can persist 
 in giving poor, helpless creatures such stuff to 
 eat, is beyond comprehension. I am convinced 
 that I cannot stand the suffering much longer; 
 I feel this morning as if the end must come 
 soon. The bread being only half baked, sour 
 and poisoned with the lime, only aggravates my 
 hunger. My stomach is so weak it is not able 
 to do the work the millstone ought to have done. 
 
 224 
 
A CASE OF SCURVY. 
 
 225 
 
I am convinced this is all done for the purpose 
 of killing the prisoners by a slow but sure pro¬ 
 cess, 
 
 January 12th. Last night was one that I shall 
 long remember, it being one of excruciating 
 suffering. I slept but little, and even that was 
 disturbed by dreams. Would to God my dreams 
 would prove to be realities, what joy would be 
 mine! The Salisbury town clock can be heard 
 striking the hours, and last night I heard it 
 strike every hour up to 1 o’clock. Then I went 
 into Dreamland. I dreamed I had just returned 
 to my old home . The family were all seated 
 around the table for supper. I remarked that 
 I was fortunate in coming home just in time for 
 supper. All looked amazed to see a stranger, 
 as they supposed, no one having recognized me, 
 making himself so familiar. Seeing this I spoke 
 to my father and said: 
 
 “Father, is it possible you do not know me?” 
 
 He gazed at/me steadily for a moment, then 
 got up and came to where I was, and taking me 
 in his arms, said: 
 
 “Frank, is it possible this is you?” 
 
 I replied, “This is what is left of me.” 
 
 Soon all the family were gathered about 
 me, and after a general handshaking and greet¬ 
 ing, I informed them we would do our hand¬ 
 shaking after supper, because I was very 
 
 226 
 
hungry just then. My sister immediately placed 
 a plate on the table for me. I quickly perceived 
 there were twelve persons seated at the table 
 and I would make the thirteenth. Being of a 
 superstitious nature, I believed the number 
 thirteen to be an unlucky number, so I refused 
 to sit at the table, and seated myself on the floor 
 by my father. I told them that was the way 
 soldiers eat their meals. They all remonstrated 
 against my position on the floor, and a half 
 dozen offered me their places at the table. I 
 was persistent in refusing all offers and made 
 them keep their 'places. I asked for a. plate of 
 beans which was given to me. My mother then 
 handed me a cup of coffee, and as I took it from 
 her hand the cup slipped on the saucer, turned 
 over, and its precious contents, almost boiling 
 hot, fell over my ankles and knees. This caused 
 me to awake, and, dear reader, the excruciating 
 pains in my limbs, and the more intense pain 
 of disappointment at my heart, can be better 
 imagined than told. What a painful awaken¬ 
 ing;* that was! From the plenty, comfort, love 
 and solicitude of Home, to find myself almost 
 frozen with cold, my knees and ankles aching as 
 if they would burst, while the hunger gnawing- 
 in my stomach! was terrible. Here I was in a 
 rebel prison, and only God knows when or how 
 I will get out of it. In the darkness and still¬ 
 ness of the night I imagined I could almost feel 
 
 227 
 
my naked body on the dead wagon, jostling 
 along towards the grave yard. There was no 
 more sleep for me that night, so I lay on my pal¬ 
 let and studied over my pleasant dream until 
 it became so vivid and so deeply impressed on 
 my mind that toi forget it will be one of the 
 impossibilities of my life. 
 
 January 13th. The long, weary night has 
 passed away and the morning has dawned, but 
 the day brings no! relief, either from hunger or 
 pain. Mv knees are swelled to twice their nat¬ 
 ural size. Our suffering is increased by the 
 intense cold, as we have had not wood for two 
 days. Con net y is out with the wood-squad now, 
 but lie will not be in until nearly dark, and I 
 am unable,to move about. 
 
 Louis Auringer, of the 81st Pennsylvania, 
 came to see me today. He manufactures bone 
 Bibles. He sat and worked by me the greater 
 part of the day. We talked of home, friends, 
 prospect of exchange, and other things, which 
 made the day pass away quite pleasantly. I 
 cannot feel as hopeful of exchange as lie and 
 some others do. But perhaps I am too much 
 disposed to look on the dark side of things. Still 
 I cannot! avoid facng facts, not as I would like 
 to have them, but as they are. 
 
 January 14th. I am feeling somewhat better 
 this morning. My limbs do not pain me so 
 
 228 
 
much. Last evening when Co n net y returned lie 
 brought with him two of the largest red pep¬ 
 pers I ever saw. I made a strong tea. of one 
 and drank half a pint of it, which greatly helped 
 me. I slept quite well, so this morning I feel 
 more encouraged and have greater hope of 
 recovering. 
 
 The three prisoners) who escaped on the 12tli 
 of last month were recaptured and returned to 
 the prison today. They had almost reached our 
 lines when they were betrayed to the enemy. 
 They report having suffered a great deal during 
 the cold nights. If they had been a little more 
 cautious they would have reached our lines the 
 next night, but becoming hungry, they 
 approached a negro,, at a farm house to ask for 
 food, but! instead of giving food to them lie 
 betrayed them. Very many of our men wlio 
 escaped from the prisons of the South were 
 recaptured! through the treachery of the house 
 servants, for they were treacherous. But it is 
 the testimony of every escaped prisoner that 
 none were ever betrayed by the “field hands,” 
 or common negroes. They could always be 
 approached with perfect confidence, and would 
 give the Union prisoners all the aid within their 
 power, often acting as guides through unknown 
 regions, as sentinels to warn them of danger, or 
 as providers of food. These poor fellows often 
 
 229 
 
rendered the service to the prisoners at the 
 imminent! risk of their own lives, but it was 
 given cheerfully. 
 
 January 15tli. I am still improving both in 
 health and in spirits. I new begin to cherish a 
 reasonable hope that I may yet live to see 
 “God’s 1 country.” I am now able to eat my corn 
 bread by breaking it up and soaking it in 
 water. I have not been able to walk for four 
 days, but this morning, with the assistance of a 
 cane, I am able, though with much pain, to walk 
 to Market Square. In walking among the poor 
 prisoners in this pen, it isi no uncommon sight 
 to see men whose hands and feet are rotting off 
 them. The weather, especially the nights, has 
 been so intensely cold, that the naked, shelter¬ 
 less bodies of the starving men were unable to 
 endure it, or escape without being badly frozen. 
 Indeed, thousands had their extremities so 
 frozen asi to destroy life in these parts, which 
 superinduced a rotting of the tissues by a kind 
 of dry gangrene. The rotten flesh frequently 
 remained in its place for many days, a loath¬ 
 some but painless mass. It finally gradually 
 sloughed off, leaving the sinews which passed 
 through it to stand out like shining, white cords. 
 Such objects are to be seen everywhere, but 
 more especially in the gangrene ward, in the big 
 hospital. The surgeons do not make any effort 
 
 230 
 
to check the disease, but simply allow it to run 
 its course until death, or permanent disfigure¬ 
 ment results. The sick are increasing to such 
 an extent that every building in the stockade is 
 filled to its utmost capacity. 
 
 January 16th. The prison is in a, state of 
 great excitement this morning. A tunnel which 
 has been under headway for about two weeks, 
 was opened some time during the night and 
 about a hundred prisoners went out to 
 temporary freedom, through it, The com¬ 
 pany digging this tunnel has been the 
 best organized of any yet engaged iu this work. 
 The number of operators was limited to twenty- 
 five men, each of whom was bound by the most 
 solemn oath not to reveal the movement until 
 it was completed. The tunnel being done a 
 meeting was held yesterday and it was agreed 
 to open it up last night at “low twelve.” It was 
 agreed that each man belonging to the organi¬ 
 zation could have the privilege of taking two of 
 his friends with him through the tunnel. The 
 proviso was included that the men who had 
 done the work should go through at 12 o’clock, 
 then their friends to follow at 1 o’clock, thus 
 allowing the originators) of the movement to 
 gain their exit and have one hour’s start before 
 the crowd should rush through, and thus 
 endanger the safety of all. 
 
 231 
 
January 17th. This is the eagerly-looked for 
 slaughter day, and our regular ration of corn 
 dodger is accompanied by some meat, consisting 
 of the offals of the beeves. Disgusting as such 
 meat would be to us ait home, here it is hailed 
 with delight, and is eaten with an eagerness and 
 a relish that is astonishing. But men dying 
 from starvation and exposure will eat anything 
 that gives promise of sustaining life. 
 
 Good fortune befel me today. I came into 
 possession of a pair of trousers which I con¬ 
 verted into a pair of moccasins, which adds 
 greatly to the comfort of my poor, sore feet. 
 What a power/ there is in ( circumstances to 
 enable one to overcome his prejudices! How 
 heathenish a man would be considered who 
 would take a pair of trousers off a dead man 
 and put them on his own person, or cut them up 
 for other purposes! But here it is different. 
 When men die in this prison pen they are taken 
 to the trenches naked. Some poor fellow con¬ 
 siders himself in good fortune if lie can appro¬ 
 priate to himself the few articles of clothing 
 the dead man may have on him. Personally, I 
 have laid aside all the repugnance to wearing 
 dead men’s clothes. My chief, and indeed, my 
 only regret is that the dead man had suffered 
 his wardrobe to diminish to such scanty pro¬ 
 portions before I made his acquaintance. If 
 
 232 
 
the treatment we are suffering continues much 
 longer, I fear we shall be led to appropriate not 
 only the clothes, but also the bodies of the dead. 
 
 For the first time in ai whole week I made a 
 trip to the east end of the prison to see some of 
 the comrades who are situated near the east 
 side. I find the same suffering there that pre¬ 
 vails everywhere. They are without clothing 
 sufficient to keep them from extreme suffering. 
 More than half the squad are barefooted, and 
 many of them have badly frozen feet. Oonnely 
 has resigned his position on the wood-squad, 
 and is reduced to regular prison fare. The 
 weather is very cold again. About three inches 
 of snow fell during the night, and the wind is 
 cold and piercing, all of which adds to our dis¬ 
 tress. Many of the prisoners are yielding up 
 their lives to the terrible torture. 
 
 News has reached us this evening that the 
 tunnel has been discovered and hunting, accom¬ 
 panied by blood hounds, are in pursuit of the 
 escaped prisoners. The report was brought in 
 bv one of the bovs who went out this evening 
 with the wood-squad. God pity the poor fel¬ 
 lows; they can scarcely hope to escape capture, 
 or death bv the terrible blood hounds. 
 
 233 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Lonely and Sad — Night Sounds—A Visit — Con 
 nely Leaves the Wood Squad—A Wrathful 
 Commander — A Man Shot by the Guards — 
 Their Ideas of a Yankee — Some of the 
 Escaped Prisoners Recaptured — Tradesmen 
 in Demand — A Sad Case- — Masonic Charity. 
 
 January 18th. Major Gee is out of humor 
 this morning. He came into the prison fol¬ 
 lowed by about a dozen guards, called the pris¬ 
 oners to “Attention!” and demanded them to 
 ; nform him where the tunnel was opened lost 
 night. He informed us that no rations would 
 be issued to us until we gave him the much- 
 coveted information. None of the men seemed 
 to know where the tunnel was started, in fact, 
 the}' professed entire ignorance of - the whole 
 affair. He ordered his guards to institute a 
 careful search for it, which resulted in finding it 
 near the west side, which was directly south of 
 Gee’s headquarters. It seems that after the 
 escaped prisoners went out, the hole through 
 
 234 
 
which they made their exit was closed up so 
 completely that the tunnel was not discovered 
 until late in the evening. This piece of Yankee 
 ingenuity lias so completely outwitted the Major 
 that he is cursing and storming around like a 
 crazy man, and his wrath is heaped on our poor 
 beads. He swears we will get no more rations 
 until the fugitives are brought back. My earn¬ 
 est prayer is that they may all reach our lines 
 and then our true condition will be made known 
 to the people of the North who will rise up and 
 demand that our Government shall send an 
 army here to release us and destroy this 
 accursed place. 
 
 The excitement outside must be intense judg¬ 
 ing from the commotion. One-half of the gar¬ 
 rison is under marching orders, and we can dis 
 tinctly hear the tread of many horses. 
 
 The most awful threats are being made as to 
 the fate of the escaped prisoners, if they are 
 caught, which God forbid. But it will certainly 
 be a sorrowful time for any poor fellow if he 
 should be caught, especially while the excite¬ 
 ment is raging as it is now. Many of the citi¬ 
 zens from the town of Salisbury are on the 
 walks with the guards, and exulting that we 
 were where we could not run away their “nig¬ 
 gers” and burn their barns. What debasement 
 of humanity that such low and contemptible 
 
 235 
 
insults should be flung in the faces of helpless 
 men those who are ranked among the “blue 
 bloods” of the South! 
 
 January 19th. This day witnessed another 
 foul, .unwarranted and cold-blooded murder. 
 One of the men belonging to a Michigan regi¬ 
 ment, was shot through the body while wander¬ 
 ing near the dead-line. The man was seen by 
 a dozen or more of the prisoners and all declare 
 he was not over or near the dead-line. He was 
 shot by one of the South Carolina Reserves. 
 They have two regimentsi here composed of boys 
 under military age. These young fellows who 
 have grown up since the war began, imbibed the 
 idea that a “Yankee” was not a human being, 
 and that it was not any more harm to shoot one 
 than it was to kill a wild beast. Their passions 
 had been inflamed by wild and terrible stories 
 of the cruelty and depravity of the Yankees, 
 until they believed it was a meritorious thing 
 to improve every opportunity to exterminate 
 them. Evidently the young murderer who com¬ 
 mitted this crime had no more idea that he had 
 committed a crime than if he had killed a vene- 
 mousi reptile. We are also convinced that the 
 commander of the prison takes the same view of 
 the case, because the young scoundrel was not 
 even relieved from duty. But this man Gee, 
 
 236 
 
the commander, is more guilty than the guard. 
 Ilis method of murder is more hideousi and bar¬ 
 barous than death by the rifle ball. He intends 
 to starve us to death, as we have gone without 
 rations of any kind for two days, and a good 
 prospect to go the third day in the same way. 
 
 January 19th. The result of this attempt to 
 reach “Gad’s Country’ 7 is a reduction of rations 
 and a resort to everv restriction which could 
 
 pj 
 
 possibly be conceived by a rebel. While in 
 Libby I imagined that the deeds of villainy were 
 well nigh exhausted. I had thought that the 
 catalogue of crime was nearly filled by the 
 incarnate Turner and his hosts. 
 
 But alas! you have only to see the heartless- 
 nesis and intrigues of the authorities here of 
 Major Gee and his associates Johnson and 
 others, and you have only to witness the suffer¬ 
 ing, the frenzy and the fever and you will then 
 
 say, that these are the deedsi of pitiless 
 monsters. 
 
 January 20th. This morning about a dozen, 
 of the escaped prisoners were recaptured about 
 forty miles northeast of the prison. The hounds 
 ran them into an old planter’s house and there 
 they were taken. The rebels and the hounds 
 are still in pursuit of the rest of the fugitives. 
 The returned men report that after they got 
 away from the stockade they divided into 
 
 237 
 
squads of about teu and twelve and traveled in 
 different directions, hoping by so doing to make 
 the escape of some at least more possible. 
 
 During the excitement of the last few days 
 I have been on my feet more than I have since 
 Christmas. It is a great pleasure, and affords 
 me great happiness, to be able to walk around 
 once more. The exercise is very beneficial to 
 me. It isi difficult to get around because the 
 the mud is very deep, which is a poor condition 
 of things for old, woolen moccasins. The Major 
 has either relented, or is feeling rejoiced over 
 the return of a part of the escaped men, as our 
 rations of corn dodger came to ust again, for 
 which we are very thankful. 
 
 January 21st. The irrepressible recruiting 
 officer is plying his vocation with renewed 
 energy. The scarcity of mechanics of all kinds, 
 and the pressing needs of the bogus Confeder¬ 
 acy, have influenced them to hold out all kinds 
 of inducements to the mechanics among the 
 prisoners to go out and enter the employ of the 
 Confederacy. Shoemakers are especially in 
 demand; next to them are the blacksmiths, 
 machinists, moulders, metal-workers, harness 
 and wagon makers. There has not been a week 
 since we came to this prison that a rebel recruit¬ 
 ing officer has not gone among the prisoners 
 seeking to induce men of these trades to give 
 
 288 
 
their service to the rebel government. Such 
 men can go out any time on parol and are prom¬ 
 ised fabulous wage's. 
 
 Being a harness maker by trade, I have been 
 approached by several officers who have tried by 
 all kinds of promises to induce me to give them 
 the benefit of my knowledge of harness making. 
 I have been offered thirty and forty dollars a 
 week, good board, plenty of tobacco free of cost, 
 and a comfortable Confederate uniform. But 
 the pay was to be in rebel scrip, worth from ten 
 to twenty cents on the dollar; and wearing a 
 rebel uniform was far more repugnant to me 
 than wearing the clothes of the dead, but loyal, 
 true and brave Union soldiers. The labor of 
 the large numbers of skilled workmen of all 
 kinds to be found among the prisoners, would 
 have been invaluable to the needy Confederacy. 
 Our shoemakers ,machinists and railroad men 
 could have done more to help the rebel cause 
 by making shoes for their barefooted soldiers', 
 repairing and running their railroad trains, 
 than a division or two of our army could have 
 done to injure them. Never before did the 
 South feel the lack of skilled laborers as it does 
 now. They had plenty of men at their com¬ 
 mand, but the men who were competent to go 
 into their railroad shops and put their old roll¬ 
 ing stock in order, and run their trains after 
 
 239 
 
they were made ready, were very scarce. And 
 the same is true of all other classes of skilled 
 labor. The contrast between the armies of the 
 North and the South in the matter of skilled 
 workmen, was very great. Salisbury Prison 
 contained among its thousands of prisoners 
 many, very many, of the best and most compe¬ 
 tent mechanics of all kinds—men who, by edu¬ 
 cation, training and experience, were compe¬ 
 tent to carry on any business, run machine 
 shops, railroad engine?, and everything else 
 that was needed. The rebel authorities not 
 only realized but openly acknowledged this 
 state of things, by holding out such great 
 inducements to our skilled workmen to enter the 
 service of the rebel Government. But all their 
 solicitations, inducements and promises were 
 spurned with indignation. Our men were deter¬ 
 mined to die rather than gain their liberty at 
 the expense of disloyalty to the old flag. The 
 almost invariably reply to all solicitations was: 
 
 No, sir ; I will stay here until the maggots and 
 lice devour my carcass, before I will lift a finger 
 to aid your infernal Confederacy and its army!” 
 
 Of course, there were a few exceptions to this 
 rule, but only a few. I remember one comrade 
 of my regiment went out as a mechanic, and 
 three days after deserted them. In the early 
 part of December he reached home but was a 
 
 240 
 
complete mental wreck. The untold hardships 
 of his homeward journey—sleepless nights, 
 foodless days, evading blood hounds and rebel 
 patrols—was more than he could endure, so that 
 when he did reach his home, it was found that 
 the light of reason had fled, and he ended his 
 davs a total wreck. 
 
 January 22nd. One of the most notable feat- 
 ures of our brutal treatment by the rebels and 
 citizens of Salisbury, is our complete abandon 
 ment bv all religious denominations. The only 
 visit we have had from a minister of any relig 
 ions denomination has been a Catholic priest 
 who has visited us occasionally. We are treated 
 as if we were brutes without souls, moral 
 instincts, or spiritual needs. The only interest 
 manifested by these rebels in the welfare of any 
 of the prisoners, is shown by members of the 
 Masonic and Odd Fellow Orders. I mention 
 this as it was the only recognition manifested 
 by any of our foes to the claims of human kin¬ 
 ship. Members of these orders among the rebel 
 soldiers and citizens interested themselves in 
 securing details outside the stockade, in the 
 cook house, the commissary department, and 
 elsewhere, for their brothers among the pris 
 oners, who would accept such favors at their 
 hands. Some of the more favored ones were 
 out on parole of honor, and enjoyed certain lib- 
 
 241 
 
erties under certain restrictions, not granted to 
 others. Such of the fraternity among the pris- 
 oners as did not feel inclined to go out on parole 
 received presents in the shape of extra food, 
 especially of vegetables, which were worth their 
 weight in gold. Material was also furnished 
 them out of which to construct huts for their 
 ase. Such as made themselves known before 
 they died, were buried according to the rites 
 and customs of the orders. The prison surgeon, 
 and probably all the assistant surgeons, were 
 members of these fraternities, and the wearing 
 of a Masonic or Odd Fellow emblem by a pris¬ 
 oner, was sure to be recognized, and to be the 
 magic amulet that would procure for the wearer 
 the tender of their professional services. These 
 prisoners are detailed in the hospitals as nurses, 
 ward-masters and such like, as a recognition of 
 fraternal obligation and friendship. In one 
 instance I personally know of a Mason divulg¬ 
 ing the secrets of the order to a comrade (on the 
 conditions, and solemn promise, that if he lived 
 to get home he would join the order) which 
 secured him a parole of honor, and was the 
 means of saving his life. 
 
 I was not fortunate enough to belong to either 
 of the Brotherhoods (but I often wished I did 
 belong to them), so that I missed the advantage 
 of these fraternal friendships and the benefits 
 
 242 
 

 they procured, I take special pride in empha¬ 
 sizing one fact, that during the entire long per¬ 
 iod of my imprisonment, I was not brought 
 under any obligations to any of Jeff Davis’ fol¬ 
 lowers for a single favor of any kind. No 
 scoundrel of the whole crew live's, or ever did 
 live, who can say that he ever did me the slight¬ 
 est favor of any kind, not even the gift of a kind 
 word. From first to last I received nothing but 
 my regular rations (and even these were often 
 withheld from me), except as I would receive 
 extra food, or tobacco, from private citizens in 
 trade for rings of my own manufacture. I owe 
 no man in the Confederacy any debt of grati¬ 
 tude—and I am glad of it. 
 
 243 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 No Tidings From the Escaped Prisoners-—Good 
 Wishes and Earnest Prayers Follow Them— 
 Negro Prisoners Dying—Their Sad Condition 
 —Husk vs. Corn—More Fugitives' Captured— 
 Disappointed Traders—Dignity Galore— 
 
 Yankee Perfumery—Sad Condition of the Cit¬ 
 izen Prisoners—Sights Unequaled—Writing 
 to Friends—Rumors of Exchange—Joyful 
 Demonstrations—Out of Tobacco. 
 
 January 23rd. We are still without tidings 
 from the men in pursuit of the escaped prison¬ 
 ers. Companies of citizens from the adjacent 
 country and a part of the garrison, accompanied 
 by numerous blood hounds, have been in pur¬ 
 suit, but so far only one small squad has been 
 brought back. The effect of this is to inspire 
 encouragement in the hearts of those of us who 
 remain. If good wishes and earnest prayers 
 will assist the brave fellows to succeed in reach¬ 
 ing our lines, they will never be apprehended 
 and returned to this den. 
 
 244 
 
The number of fiegro prisoners 1ms dimin¬ 
 ished to an alarming degree. Out of about 300 
 who were brought here, 1 do not think there are 
 fifty left, and they are in a fair way to follow 
 their comrades. They receive the •same rations 
 the white prisoners get, but they fare worse in 
 other respects. They do not seem to have the 
 energy and grit of the white men to provide 
 themselves with shelter. They will also dispose 
 of the last garment they possess for a sweet 
 potato or a bite of bread. I saw one negro this 
 morning trade his shoes for a sweet potato, a 
 small piece of bread and a chew of tobacco, turn¬ 
 ing his pedals out naked to the weather. This 
 means one more victim for the dead-wagon, 
 because a negro is like a young turkey, when lie 
 gets chilled through he turns up his toes, frotlrs 
 at the mouth, then all is over with him. 
 
 Our rations came to-day as usual. It is 
 amazing how much husk there i,s in the corn in 
 this forsaken country. The bread we get to eat 
 is nearly one-half husk, or corn-bran, or some¬ 
 thing of that nature. I know if this kind of 
 corn was raised up North, Yankee ingenuity 
 would bring about same kind of transformation 
 in the seed so that it would produce more corn 
 and less husk. 
 
 January 24th. When we were received in 
 this vile prison there were no sick or wounded 
 
 245 
 
men among the prisoners, but there are not 
 to-day five hundred well men among 8,000 inside 
 the stockade; this is a lamentable fact and the 
 rebel surgeons coincide in this belief. The mud 
 is ankle 1 deep all over the prison and no dry 
 place to be found only under the wooden hos¬ 
 pital and that is tilled to overflowing all hours, 
 day and night. 
 
 1 borrowed a pair of shoes from Comrade 
 Htrawser, one of our boys, and went out with 
 the water squad. 1 wanted an opportunity to 
 trade a ring for something to eat, but to my dis¬ 
 gust, our guards were some of the young tar- 
 heels (South Carolina Reserves), who were mean 
 and devilish enough to prevent us from trading 
 with the citizens, who were waiting and anx¬ 
 ious to exchange tobacco, sweet potato pies, 
 and sweet potatoes for any kind of relics made 
 inside the prison. But these young bloods 
 
 would not allow it, giving as an excuse, 
 
 * # 
 
 “It is ? ginst odalis to Tow it!” 
 
 That such orders had been given them we 
 have no doubt, as a commissioned officer accom¬ 
 panied them to see that the “odalis” were 
 obeyed. He was a pitiful second lieutenant, 
 who assumed all the dignity and authority of a 
 Major General. From his general appearance 
 and demeanor if he could have been sold at his 
 own estimated value, the returns would have 
 
 246 
 
paid off the entire war debt of both sections, 
 leaving the country free to do as it pleased. We 
 returned to camp with water, but no ration's. 
 
 January 25th. This morning the weather is 
 much warmer than it has been for several days. 
 With a drizzling rain and a heavy atmosphere, 
 the odor from the sinks is beyond description. 
 One of the guards said the citizens could smell 
 it three miles away and then remarked: 
 
 “I didn’t know you all smelt so; why, you 
 Yanks smells worse than niggers!” 
 
 Comrade Judson, of Co. “II,” of our regi¬ 
 ment, who is one of the stockholders in our dug- 
 out, is very low with malarial fever and scurvy. 
 The probabilities are we will have to carry him 
 to the dead-house. I visited the citizen-prison¬ 
 ers’ headquarters to-day and find the same suf¬ 
 fering there that prevails everywhere within 
 this prison hell. Their despondency and hope¬ 
 lessness are plainly visible in their haggard 
 faces. A great many of them have died, while 
 others are terribly afflicted with scurvy, and are 
 unable to walk. 
 
 An interior view of this prison presents a pic¬ 
 ture of misery and despair which lias never been 
 paralleled on God’s earth. One must go through 
 the prison pens of the Southern Confederacy to 
 
 247 
 
see sights and conditions which cannot be seen 
 anywhere else. 
 
 I wrote a letter to-day for D. W. Connely to 
 his sister, Mrs. Frank Wade, who lives in the 
 neighborhood where my wife lives. I enclosed 
 a few lines to my wife. All letters must be con 
 fined to six lines, and nothing derogatory to the 
 Confederacy, or the management of this prison, 
 must be written therein. It is vexatious to be 
 compelled to write to our friends that w r e are 
 all right; and, perhaps/, according to the stand¬ 
 ard of prison conditions, we are all right—at 
 least we think so if we are only able to walk. 
 
 January 26th. Market square is a central 
 meeting point for all inside the prison and is 
 gaining great notoriety. All who are able to 
 walk are certain to meet here at least once a 
 day to exchange gossip and eagerly listen to the 
 latest reports pertaining to our exchange and 
 most of all, to curse the rebels and the bogus 
 Confederacy. Their wrath was raised to a high 
 pitch to-day when an emissary of the Confed¬ 
 eracy made his appearance with all the pomp 
 and dignity hisi bald-faced impudence could 
 inspire, and placed on the market Confederate 
 shin plasters, five dollars for one greenback, liis 
 stock of trade being so low no business was 
 done. Greenbacks commanding a high premium, 
 he finally offered fifty to one, when he retired 
 
 248 
 
amid the curses and derision of the prisoners. 
 
 Tliisi evening about a dozen of those who 
 escaped on the night of the 16th were brought 
 back to the prison. They report having been 
 traced by blood hounds and were recaptured by 
 citizens. Every able-bodied man not in the 
 Southern army is patroling the country for 
 rebel deserters and escaped prisoners, which 
 makes escape almost impossible. 
 
 January 27th. The weather is again cold; 
 the ground froze last night, but the sun has 
 come out bright and full of a genial warmth 
 this morning. Would to God it might pour 
 some rays of hope and sunshine into our poor, 
 hopeless hearts! I am happy to say my feet are 
 improving so I am able to take my customary 
 morning walk. About one-half of our boys are 
 stationed near the east side, the rest are quar¬ 
 tered near the center of the grounds east and 
 west, but 'south of the center north and south. 
 There is little motive for motion of any kind, 
 and no room for exercise, however strong our 
 desire might be in that direction. Many of the 
 prisoners yielded unresistingly to the despond¬ 
 ency which naturally arose from the dull, 
 routine life we are compelled to live. It 
 requires great determination and exertion to 
 take exercise here. . The tendency is to lie still, 
 fret and die. The ground is all pre-empted, or 
 
 249 
 
homesteaded, and is so full of holes and other 
 devices for shelter, that it requires considerable 
 time, patience and care to pick one’s way 
 through the narrow paths between the different 
 parts of the prison. I usually walk over to the 
 dead-house and from there to the east side, to 
 hear the gossip of the day. Then I would visit 
 the* hospital and render what assistance I could 
 to my sick comrades. I then returned to Mar¬ 
 ket Square, where everything in the stockade 
 is bought and sold. Here I traded for rubber 
 buttons and rubber combs*, the material out of 
 which I made my finger rings. This daily trip, 
 attending roll-call, making bread-coffee, skir¬ 
 mishing for “game” among the dilapidated 
 clothing, and the rest of the day making finger 
 rings, constituted the daily routine of my life 
 within Salisbury stockade. 
 
 January 28th. Great excitement prevails 
 among our boys at the south side this morning. 
 It is the general belief that the day of our 
 release from this prison is near at hand. The 
 report has reached us that terms of exchange 
 have been agreed upon, and we are to leave 
 here during the coming week. The news came 
 from one of the old guards who says he has been 
 in a position to learn the facts. Whether true 
 or not, the report has acted like magic on the 
 prisoners. They are showing their hopes in 
 
 250 
 
their cheerful faces and expressions of joy. All 
 are hoping we are not being deceived as we have 
 been heretofore. 
 
 January 29th. The weather is moderating 
 and the suffering from cold is decreasing. If 
 the terrible diseases and vermin would only 
 abate likewise, life would become more toler¬ 
 able to us, but there is no sign of dimunition in 
 either of these plagues. The sanitary condi¬ 
 tion of the prison becomes worse and worse. It 
 is almost impossible to endure the terrible efflu¬ 
 via which is constantly arising. The news of 
 exchange is having a good effect on the sick as 
 well as on the well. 
 
 January 30th. We would judge from the joy¬ 
 ful demonstrations at the Sergeant’s headquar¬ 
 ters last night that we had already received 
 orders to go to “God’s country.” The hope of a 
 speedy exchange is given so much credence that 
 the Sergeants were having a jolly time. Patri¬ 
 otic singing was kept up until a late hour at 
 night. The most astonishing part of the whole 
 matter is, that the guards did not tire on them 
 as they have done heretofore; no effort of any 
 kind was made by the rebels to stop the hilarity. 
 This goes far towards confirming our belief that 
 the report is not without some good foundation. 
 The excitement is such that we begin to think 
 
there is not much difference between intoxica 
 tion excited by wine, and that produced by good 
 news, especially when it brings a hope of release 
 from such torture as we have been enduring in 
 this prison. The boys 1 all act as if they were 
 really drunk—handshaking, greeting, singing, 
 and some actually crying for joy. There have 
 been five or six maniacs here who lost their rea¬ 
 son from hunger, and who were constantly 
 shouting for “Bread! Bread!” but now, all 
 seemed to have gone crazy and are shouting, 
 “Glory, hallelujah!” singing “Home, Sweet 
 Home ” “We’ll Rally Round the Flag, Boys,” 
 eacli group having a good time of its own. To 
 our delighted astonishment, the prison author¬ 
 ities allow all this to go on without any remon¬ 
 strance or interference whatever. What can it 
 all mean? 
 
 We are now demonstrating our ingenuity by 
 representing the dead men as still in the land 
 of the living and drawing their rations as when 
 they were living in fact. These extra rations 
 we divide among the actual living, giving us a 
 handsome increase in our rations. This has 
 been done for about two weeks, unobserved by 
 the prison authorities, and now it is done at a 
 wholesale rate, which causes the authorities to 
 congratulate themselves that the death-list is 
 diminishing. Poor fools, they are woefully 
 
 252 
 
deceived! But we are willing that they should 
 be deceived as long as it gives us more food. 
 
 January 31st. I was up all night with Com¬ 
 rade Jud'son. He seems to be much better this 
 morning. We secured some medicine from the 
 hospital surgeon in the shape of sumach berries, 
 to be boiled like tea and drank. It is a very 
 simple remedy, but we hope it will be beneficial 
 to the sick man. 
 
 The one employment of the prisoners now is 
 speculation on the truthfulness or falsity of 
 exchange rumors. The report is now abroad 
 that the sutler brought a paper into the prison 
 and showed it to some of the boys, which con¬ 
 tained an editorial to the effect that next week 
 we would be taken out of here. If This report 
 should prove to be false, the effect upon the 
 prisoners will be very disastrous, and will result 
 in an increase of the death rate, and, I fear also, 
 of the number of maniacs. 
 
 There are no farther reports from the hunting 
 parties who have been after the fugitives. No 
 captives have been brought in since the 26th of 
 this month. It does seem incredible that so 
 many could escape the dogs and the hot pur¬ 
 suit of their enemies. Perhaps some were cap- 
 turned and left lying where they were taken. 
 These ghouls are capable of committing any 
 degree of atrocity their murderous hearts move 
 
 253 
 
them to commit. 
 
 Some of the old guards are in charge of the 
 water squad to-day. I was one of the detail in 
 the afternoon, but the officer in charge would 
 not allow any trading to be done, and so I had 
 to return without accomplishing anything. I 
 have been out of tobacco since yesterday morn¬ 
 ing, and but for the interference of the officer, I 
 could have secured a plug of tobacco while out 
 after water. The squad detailed to get wood 
 has to pass so near headquarters that it is 
 impossible to do any trading on that route; even 
 the guards are watched so closely that we can¬ 
 not do any trading with them. 
 
 254 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 I Succeed in Getting Tobacco — A High-Toned 
 Patron — -Hopes are Rising — A Sale, and an 
 Encouraging Interview — We Adopt a John¬ 
 nie — Planning His Escape — Prison Prayer 
 M e et i n gs — R el i gi o u s D e s ti t utio n — T li ought s 
 of Exchange — Our First Issue of Clothing — 
 Robbed by Major Gee — Make My Last Ring — - 
 Visited by Major Gee — His Brutal Character. 
 
 February 1st. Nothing unusual has trans¬ 
 pired today. Judson is better this morning, the 
 universal excitement over the exchange is help¬ 
 ing to restore his health. George Edmonds, of 
 my company, went out with the water-squad 
 today. I gave him a ring to take out with him 
 and trade for tobacco if an opportunity offered. 
 He was successful, and now we are the happy 
 possessors of a treasure beyond price — a plug of 
 tobacco. What joy it brings to all our hearts 
 as we*roll the sweet morsel under our tongues! 
 
 February 2nd. While I was at the sutler’s 
 tent this morning, a Lieutenant of the young 
 “tar-heel” regiment was there inquiring of the 
 
 255 
 
sutler if lie had any of them Yankee-made.finger 
 rings for sale. Being answered in the negative, 
 I told him I would make him one tomorrow. 
 After a few preliminaries, were settled I 
 received the contract to make a ring for his royal 
 nibs. What an important contract that was, my 
 countrymen! The price was to be ten dollars; 
 the ornaments on it were to be two hearts. 
 After taking the size of his finger, I went to my 
 dugout and was unkind enough to allow myself 
 to think that he needed more bra ns than hearts. 
 Judging from his appearance and conduct he 
 needed both, but not of the kind my poor skill 
 could manufacture. It was amusing as well as 
 disgusting to see him lay down a $1000-bill and 
 ask the sutler to give him , small bills in 
 exchange.. He seemed to do it with such disdain 
 and with as little concern as a small bov would 
 banter another to trade marbles. 
 
 February 3rd. Nothing occurred to disturb 
 the quiet and peace of the “stockade family” 
 yesterday. The usual routine of prison life went 
 on. Judson is feeling much better. Hopes of 
 exchange are rising, as rumors are numerous 
 that negotiations are going on, and prisoners 
 from other rebel pens are constantly leaving for 
 our lines. We have received tidings that we are 
 to leave here as soon as transportation can be 
 furnished. 
 
 256 
 
I finished the ring today, and this evening 
 the young dandy “tar-heel” Lieutenant met me 
 at the sutler’s tent after roll-call, according to 
 agreement. He paid me the ten dollars like a 
 man. I made bold to ask him if he would give 
 me any information about the rumors of 
 exchange now being circulated among the pris¬ 
 oners. He replied that the rumor was correct 
 and true, that we would leave here as soon as 
 transportation could be furnished us. I 
 remarked that these rumors had been quite fro 
 quently circulated in the prison, but had always 
 proved to be false, and I had become skeptical 
 about putting my faith in them, because when 
 they proved to be untrue the disappointment 
 was a great shock to men as weak mentally and 
 physically as we were. 
 
 “Well, sir,” he said, “this one is true. I give 
 you my honah on that.” 
 
 This gave me some good encouragement. With 
 
 the ten dollars I got from my “tar-heel” Lieuten¬ 
 
 ant I purchased three small sweet potatoes and 
 about one-half of a ration of bread. The bread 
 kept by the sutler for sale is of the same qual¬ 
 ity as that issued to us for rations. His stock- 
 in-trade is bread, potatoes, onions, black pepper, 
 boiled beef, rice and cow-peas, all of which lie 
 sell S' for an enormous price. Owing to the 
 
 257 
 
scarcity of money lie does not carry on a very 
 t h r i v i n g b u s i ness. 
 
 February 4th. Today one of the rebel con¬ 
 victs, a mere stripling of a boy, came to our dug- 
 out and told Connely and myself that lie had 
 been conscripted into the rebel army, had 
 deserted twice, and while being taken the sec¬ 
 ond time lie had stabbed a, rebel officer, and he 
 was here a waiting trial. He wa s confident the 
 Union prisoners were going to leave very soon, 
 and he was afraid lie would be handled roughly 
 after we left. He asked ns if we could not in 
 some way aid him to get out of the Confederacy. 
 He was not to exceed 18 years old, and was an 
 innocent-looking youth. He was blind in one 
 eye. We put all confidence in liis veracity and 
 honesty, and told him we would see what we 
 could do for him. We were afraid the disfigure¬ 
 ment of his blind 1 eve would make it hard to 
 effect his escape without being detected, and 
 we might get ourselves into trouble. But he 
 pleaded with us so earnestly, assuring us that if 
 he was detected we would not be implicated, we 
 finally told him we would consider the matter. 
 It was arranged that he should come back the 
 next day and we would decide wliat we would 
 do in his case. After he left us we decided to do 
 what we could to help' him to get away, and 
 finally hit on the plan of naming the kid “Jacob 
 
 258 
 
Berry.” This was the name of a member of our 
 company who was killed on the railroad while 
 going home on a sick furlough, near Joliet, Illi¬ 
 nois, August, 1863. 
 
 February 5th. The weather is quite chilly 
 this morning, but the excitement runs so high 
 we forget all about the cold. The belief is 
 becoming fixed! in our minds that this will be 
 the last Sabbath Day we shall spend in this mis¬ 
 erable den. Every Sabbath Day prayer meet¬ 
 ings have been held in different parts of the 
 stockade, but on this Sabbath all praying people 
 have assembled near the west end of the 
 grounds. The meeting was largely attended, and 
 great interest was manifested. Many prayers 
 from true contrite hearts went, up to God in 
 faith, believing that He would hear and answer 
 ns. During this prayer meeting the young “tar- 
 heels” near the assemblage ceased to walk their 
 beats and became interested hearers. Since 
 we entered this stockade there has not been a 
 single minister of any sect to visit us, except the 
 Catholic priest. It appears that we are not even 
 counted worthy to have the comforts and help 
 of -Religion extended to us. 
 
 February 6th. Our Johnnie came around 
 this morning to see what we had concluded to 
 do in his case. We told him we had decided to 
 
aid him all we could, but he must be very cau¬ 
 tious, and if he was detected by the rebel 
 authorities he was not to let them know that we 
 were aiding him. We told him to trade his cap 
 for a broad brimmed hat, which would help to 
 disguise him as well as to hide his blind eye. We 
 also told him he must adopt the name of “Jacob 
 Berry, Co. ‘1/ 22nd Iowa Infantry,” and be 
 paroled under that name. We wrote it down on 
 a piece of paper and gave it to him, so he would 
 become familiar with it, and when he was 
 around us we would call him by that name. We 
 also told him where we were from, where we 
 enlisted, who was our Captain, all in order that 
 he might be somewhat familiar with our history 
 in case he was questioned. We cautioned him 
 not to be seen in our company to frequently, 
 for fear his associates might suspicion him. 
 When the time came (if it ever did) when we 
 should go out, he was to fall into ranks near us, 
 and if questioned as to where he belonged, to 
 answer that he belonged to the 22nd Iowa 
 Infantry. In this way our plans were laid to 
 help a brother man to gain his freedom and 
 escape the cruelties of his own kindred. 
 
 February 7th. The night has gradually worn 
 away. Our expectation of what is to take place 
 during the next few days makes the nights Jong 
 and wearisome. It is natural for men to hope, 
 
 260 
 
especially when situated so unfortunately as we 
 are. Comrade Jud-son is slowly improving, and 
 under favorable conditions he may recover 
 sufficiently to reach our lines, but if this rumor 
 should turn out like the others the disappoint¬ 
 ment will no doubt hasten him to the grave. 11 
 is difficult to control our thought. Fancy runs 
 wiki and 1 dwells upon scenes of pleasure and 
 comfort from which we are now excluded. When 
 the strong spirit returns from its wanderings 
 weak and weary, liow natural it is for the bodv 
 to sympathize with it. Such are the wearying 
 struggles we engage in until we sink into a 
 kind of despondency, which scarcely cares 
 whether we live or die. 
 
 February 8th. Rations of bread were issued 
 to us earlier than usual this morning. The 
 Sergeants of the different squads were ordered 
 to report at the north gate, where they were 
 informed that the Federal Government had sent 
 us some clothing and for them to take charge of 
 it and issue it out to the men. On November 
 10th muster roll for Rations was 12,500; our 
 number last night at roll call was 6,050. Each 
 squad was counted and clothing issued to 
 squads according to number. It was then issued 
 to the men of each squad! ns far it would go. 
 Those most needy were first supplied—there 
 being one blanket for every three men. Seven 
 
 261 
 
pairs of pants and twelve overcoats were issued 
 to our squad, which numbered sixty-nine men. 
 There were no shirts, drawers, blouses or 
 socks allotted to us. Our allowance of shoes 
 consisted of three pairs. I was barefooted, my 
 feet being wrapped in a pair of old pants legs, 
 but it seems that others needed shoes worse 
 than I did, so I got, none. I was thankful we 
 were so fortunate as to procure a blanket for 
 Oonnely, Crocker and myself. This we gave to 
 our sick comrade, Judson, which he needed so 
 much. 
 
 It now penetrated ray cranium where all 
 those new clothes our barbarous, murdering 
 guards were wearing came from. All through 
 this long and severe winter, while we have been 
 nearly naked and suffering untold agony from 
 cold and exposure, these scoundrels have been 
 wrapped in our blankets, Shod with our new 
 shoes, and comfortable in new Union clothing, 
 all of which our government sent here for our 
 use, having shipped an abundance of clothing 
 here early in the winter, expecting that the 
 rebel authorities would be honorable enough to 
 give the articles to. us, but which they did not. 
 Instead of that, they put them on their own 
 troops, who were shooting our poor fellows to 
 their death, in cold blood, and heaping all man¬ 
 ner of indignities on us. There is not a shadow 
 
 262 
 
of a doubt but that the rebel authorities prom¬ 
 ised our government at Washington they would 
 give the prisoners whatever was sent to make 
 them more comfortable. But they lied and stole 
 from the men they were killing and mutilating 
 with blood hounds. Can my readers imagine 
 anything more barbarous than this? Savage 
 Indians are possessed of more honor and mercy. 
 
 February 9th. Comrade Judson continues to 
 improve. He was able to sit up awhile today. 
 We feel very anxious to have him recover 
 strength sufficient to enable him to move with 
 us when the time for exchange comes. We are 
 all certain that under skillful medical treat¬ 
 ment and nursing lie will be restored to health. 
 Today I exhausted my stock of rubber. I shall 
 keep this ring and take it home with me as a 
 present for my wife and as an evidence of my 
 skill and industry while an inmate of Salisbury 
 Prison. I suppose my wife lias long ago given 
 me up as dead, but if I had just one month’s diet 
 of our oldj-fashioned hard tack and “sow 
 bosom,” with a generous supply of Uncle Sam’s 
 good! coffee thrown in, I believe I could make 
 these “tar-heels” believe I was the liveliest 
 corpse they ever handled. It would be so sweet 
 to take revenge on them for wearing the cloth¬ 
 ing they so maliciously stole from us during 
 the winter. I often imagined I had met with 
 
 263 
 
grievances which made me mad— real mad—but 
 never before in all my life barve I felt towards 
 any human being as I do towards these “tar- 
 heels” from South Carolina, as I am compelled 
 to watch them day after day wearing the cloth¬ 
 ing which ought to be covering our poor, naked, 
 shivering bodies. It is more than human nature 
 can bear. But this only indicates what south¬ 
 ern rebels are at heart. 
 
 February lOtli. Many anxious inquiries were 
 made today as to the probable time when we are 
 to be relieved of this great mental strain con¬ 
 cerning our exchange, but no definite or satis¬ 
 factory answers were elicited. Major Gee 
 entered the prison today, accompanied by three 
 of his under-strappers, and held a short con¬ 
 versation with the sutler. Then lie walked 
 around the stockade as if lie were looking for 
 some one he had lost, and finally made his exit 
 at the little gate. No one could muster up cour¬ 
 age enough to ask him for information con¬ 
 cerning our release. The very sight of the man 
 is repulsive. It is easy to read the true char¬ 
 acter of the brute by the cast of his counte- 
 nance. The very features of the man’s face por¬ 
 trays Ms inward depravity. To one who com¬ 
 prehends the capabilities of the human soul, 
 there is something terrible in its perversions. 
 The higher and nobler the purpose to which 
 
 264 
 
the life is devoted, the darker and deeper the 
 infamy into which the soul may be plunged 
 when it is sold into sin, and is dominated by 
 viciousness. Demons grow from germs that 
 might have brought forth angels. Such is the 
 character of Major Gee. It seems as though he 
 is dead to all the better feelings of humanity. 
 He is prepared to commit any crime against 
 God and man, or both. The evil passion of his 
 depraved nature is so strong and active that 
 he is ready to use every means within his power 
 to increase and intensify the sufferings of his 
 helpless victims. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Friendship Gifts' — Hope and Fear—An Inquiry 
 and its Result — Hope Brightened—A 
 
 Preacher and His Sermon—An Unapprecia¬ 
 tive Congregation—Great Anxiety—Trying to 
 Make a Maniac Understand—Rain and Mud— 
 Bad Tempered Men—Excitement, Hope and 
 Fear — A Trade and Ring Making—Seeking 
 
 for News — Auringeris Death—How News 
 Spreads — Terrible Condition of the Hospital 
 — Death Rate Decreasing—Wood Choppers 
 Discharged — Rations Diminishing — Our 
 Johnnie Scared — Sergeants to Report Their 
 Men — Our Day of Deliverance Arrives— 
 Exciting Scenes — Our Johnnie Happy—The 
 Dead List. 
 
 February 11th. About dusk last night L. K. 
 Auringer, of the 81st New York, came to me and 
 gave me a pressing invitation to make one of 
 the party as* lie had means of escape to-night. I 
 courteously declined his kind invitation, not 
 wishing to run the desperate and almost hope¬ 
 less chance of escaping the ever-watchful 
 
 266 
 
guards. Then I knew 1 would have to battle 
 against the ferocious blood hounds' which would 
 certainly be put on our track as soon As our 
 absence was discovered. Much as I desired to 
 taste the sweets of liberty, and grateful as I felt 
 to the kind comrade who, out of the goodness of 
 his heart, was willing to give me the oppor¬ 
 tunity of realizing my earnest desires, yet, situ¬ 
 ated as I was, barefoot, almost naked, worn and 
 wasted with long and severe suffering, I knew 
 I would not be able to make my way through an 
 unknown country abounding in bitter enemies. 
 All these considerations, to which was added 
 the dread of being devoured by blood hounds, as 
 some of our poor fellows in their efforts to 
 escape had been, made the probability of final 
 escape so small that 1 had to decline the privi¬ 
 lege offered to me. I wished him God-speed, 
 and hoped he would be greatly successful. Com¬ 
 rade Auringer, as 1 have already stated, was a 
 skilful worker in bone, making bone Bibles, 
 rings and other trinkets. As he turned to go, 
 he handed me a beautiful little bone Bible, and 
 said to me: 
 
 “Comrade, take this home, and when you look 
 upon it, remember me.” 
 
 In return for his- beautiful gift, I gave him 
 one of my finger rings, made of rubber, and said 
 to him: 
 
 267 
 
“Comrade Auringer, our friendship since our 
 acquaintance was formed here, has been 
 mutual. I will always remember you. Take 
 this ring, and if you live to get home, put it 
 where you will often see it, and when your eyes 
 behold it, remember me then.” 
 
 Discouragement is beginning to invade the 
 prison; many are beginning to think there is no 
 foundation for the report of our exchange and 
 release, therefore, we are again doomed to be 
 disappointed. Our adopted Johnnie came to us 
 this morning and told us he had heard all the 
 Federal prisoners had left Andersonville on 
 exchange, and that we would soon be released 
 from this prison. However, we surmise that 
 the advance of Sherman’s army has had a great 
 deal to do with the removal of the prisoners from 
 Andersonville. We have not had any informa¬ 
 tion concerning his movements, as no “fresh 
 fish” (the name given to new prisoners!), have 
 been brought here since the colored prisoners 
 came in early in the winter. We want it dis¬ 
 tinctly understood that Salisbury Prison is open 
 only to distinguished and selected company, 
 viz., colored troops and “barn burners from the 
 Shenandoah Valley.” I determined to make a 
 desperate effort to learn something of our pros¬ 
 pective destiny, so I went to the hospital, took 
 my station at the door, and waited until the 
 
 268 
 
rebel surgeon came out. When he appeared, 1 
 mustered up courage enough to ask him if he 
 would be kind enough to tell me if he knew 
 when we would be paroled. He answered me 
 that he did not know just when it would be done 
 but that we would be released as soon as trans¬ 
 portation could be had. I replied that if they 
 would grant us the privilege, we would will¬ 
 ingly march and live on the wind. All we 
 craved was the privilege of getting out of this 
 place. Here our conversation ended. That 
 there is some prospect of our going out is cer¬ 
 tain, but when the day will come is all too 
 uncertain for comfort. 
 
 The memory of last night’s parting with Com¬ 
 rade Auringer still lingers with me. I feel lone¬ 
 some since he is gone. Our acquaintance began 
 in this vile prison and we soon became warm 
 friends. We had aided each other in many 
 ways, but now he is gone and I am left. I laid 
 awake all night expecting every moment to hear 
 the rattle of musketry and the shrieks of 
 wounded men. The night was very still. I 
 could distinctly 1 hear the steady tramp, tramp of 
 the rebel guards as they walked their beats', eag¬ 
 erly wishing for an opportunity to distinguish 
 themselves by shooting a Yank. I could hear 
 them cry out in genuine southern dialect: 
 
 269 
 
“Post number f-o-a-li; f-o-a-h o’clock, and all is 
 well!” 
 
 This 1 was taken up by post number five, and 
 so on all around tlie stockade. This was 
 repeated by the guards every half hour in order 
 to let the prison authorities know they were on 
 the alert. 
 
 February 12th. Juclson is much better this 
 morning. . Exchange stock is at a high rate of 
 premium again. The rate was raised by a min¬ 
 ister of the Gospel who came in this Sabbath 
 day to preach to us “barn-burners,” We have 
 been in this prison over four months and not 
 until to-dav lias a single minister come to us to 
 preach the Word of Eternal Life to give us com¬ 
 fort and strength. I did not hear the text from 
 which this one preached. His harangue was 
 simply an apology for our captors. He excused 
 their barbarous treatment of us on the ground 
 that the Confederacy was not in a condition 
 financiall t y to provide us with better quarters 
 and food. “But now,” said he, “before another 
 week rolls around you will be within your own 
 lines, or, at least, on the road there.” - He hoped 
 we would carry no animosity with us, “for, my 
 friends,” said he, “we have not had the means 
 to supply your wants as we should have done, 
 if we were able.” The impudent hypocricy of 
 
 270 
 
this fellow who disgraces the sacred office of the 
 ministry by calling ns “friend's/- and apologiz¬ 
 ing for the barbarous treatment we have 
 received from our enemies, aroused within me 
 a feeling of intense indignation. If we were 
 friends, where had he been that he had not come 
 to preach to our needy souls the Word of Eter¬ 
 nal Life which we needed so much? I seri¬ 
 ously disturbed his peaceful soul by ashing him 
 where the clothing was that Uncle Sam had 
 sent to us? That, certainly, has been “availa¬ 
 ble” to the Confederacy from the way the 
 guards were dressed. Some one in the rear of 
 the audience yelled at him that “The animosity 
 of both rebels and the graybacks would be apt 
 to stick to the Yankees!” 
 
 His sermon failed to have its desired effect, 
 and when he discovered that fact, he brought it 
 to a speedy close by bidding us all a very Chris¬ 
 tian (?) and affectionate farewell. However, 
 his sermon had one good effect — it confirmed our 
 hopes of exchange and release, not because he 
 was a so-called minister, but because we 
 believed lie would not have made us this visit, 
 and said what he did unless the day of our 
 departure was near at hand. Every man who 
 can walk is on the move, so that the inside of 
 the stockade has the 1 appearance of a bee-hive, 
 notwithstanding a heavy snow is falling. 
 
 271 
 
February 13th. The terrible anxiety we are 
 enduring is a very great strain on the nervous 
 system of men whose vitality is already greatly 
 reduced by long starvation, sickness and suffer¬ 
 ing. Anxious eyes are momentarily looking for 
 the gates to be opened to admit the messengers 
 who are to bear to us the glad tidings that the 
 obstacles which have so long stood between us 
 and liberty are at last removed. How eager we 
 are to hear the welcome message that will give 
 ease to aching hearts and food to empty stom¬ 
 achs! The suspense is terrible. 
 
 Only two of the maniacs are now living. This 
 morning a comrade was trying to make one of 
 them understand that we were going to leave 
 here soon, and then we would go to where there 
 was plenty of bread. But the effort was a fail¬ 
 ure. No change of mental condition was visi¬ 
 ble in his countenance. The cry of the poor fel¬ 
 low was: “Bread! Bread!” His eyes had a 
 wild, staring gaze. His countenance was a true 
 index to his mental and physical agony. 
 
 Bread was issued to us to-day. For some rea¬ 
 son there is more activity on the railroad than 
 usual; trains are coming and going more fre¬ 
 quently. They seem to be heavy freight trains, 
 but the nature of them we cannot tell. 
 
 February 14th. The weather has become 
 quite mild. A hard rain fell dtiring the night, 
 
 272 
 
but the morning is clear and bright, making it 
 quite pleasant overhead, but very muddy and 
 disagreeable under foot. Notwithstanding the 
 mud, every man who can be on his feet and able 
 to walk, is on the move from place to place, 
 hoping to hear some bit of news that will con¬ 
 firm the hopes we have been cherishing for so 
 many days. One thing is quite noticeable 
 among the prisoners, viz.: the estrangement 
 which seems to prevail between the eastern and 
 wejtern soldiers. There is not much social life 
 between them. The New Yorkers occupy the 
 extreme east end of the prison ground, and are 
 almost constantly fighting among themselves. 
 It is nothing unusual to see a fight in that quar¬ 
 ter every hour in the day, and they often take 
 place between those who are the best of friends. 
 The fact is, every one feels so ill-natured that it 
 does not take much to get a fight started on 
 short notice. To say they all are cross is to 
 use a mild expression. 
 
 February 15th. Judson can now sit up a part 
 of each day. Crocker cannot walk very much, 
 his feet are so tender. The rest of our squad 
 
 are in reasonable health. The chief topics of 
 
 »■ ' * 
 
 conversation this morning are, the evacuation 
 of this place and—bread. The rebel preacher 
 said last Sundav we would be within our own 
 
 4 / 
 
 lines, or on the road, before the next Sabbath 
 
 27 3 
 
day would dawn, but if either be true a move 
 will have to be made very soon. Excitement 
 runs high, mingled with grave doubts and fears, 
 but the uneasiness which seems to prevail 
 among the guards, and the moving of s<o many 
 trains, means something. The anxietv can be 
 easily discovered in the face of every rebel we 
 see, but the cause we cannot tell as they will not 
 divulge it to us. 
 
 February 16th. This morning I made 
 another trade. I traded two brass buttons for 
 the bach of a rubber comb, and spent the da t y 
 making another finger ring. There is so much 
 excitement that it is difficult to do any kind of 
 work. One wants to sit still and see the excited 
 groups of men going from one part of the pen 
 to another, seeking to learn the latest reports. 
 
 A man may start a favorable report and in a 
 half hour’s time go to another part of the prison, 
 when he will be sure to hear the same report 
 told with such emphasis and candor that he con¬ 
 cludes it came direct from good authority. Thus 
 hope is kept alive in the hearts of men who 
 would otherwise sink under the load of despair. 
 
 February 17tli. This morning I took a stroll 
 over to the east side to 1 see the boys' of my regi¬ 
 ment who are stationed there. The same state 
 of excitement is manifest there that prevails in 
 other parts of the prison. A report started at 
 
 274 
 
the east side will speedily sweep westward, 
 gathering many additions as it moves along. It 
 is not like the traditional “rolling stone” which 
 is said to gather no moss, because a very slight 
 camp rumor concerning our exchange gathers 
 great crowds of eager listeners who attend to 
 all that is rehersed and then carry their own 
 versions of it to others just as eager to hear. 
 
 I walked through the brick hospital on 1113 ' 
 return, and the sights which are presented to 
 the eye are appalling. It is not so cold inside 
 the building as it has been, and the vast hordes 
 of vermin are literally eating up the poor, help¬ 
 less victims who are confined there. The ver¬ 
 min are so numerous that the dust and straw 
 on the dirt floors seem as though they were lit¬ 
 erally alive, while the fragments, of clothing 
 Which partially cover the poor, emaciated bodies 
 of the sick men are so covered with them that it 
 is impossible to tell the color of the garment. If 
 one stands still in one place, for even a few 
 moments, they will crawl up his legs like ants 
 from an ant hill. 
 
 February 18th. This is the last day of the 
 week and the prediction, or promise, of our 
 preacher has failed to materialize, because we 
 are neither in “God’s country,” nor on the way 
 there. One thing is sure, the close of each day 
 brings us nearer the time when we will go out 
 
 275 
 
1 
 
 from lieie, but the question is, how will we go 
 out? The manner of our going is what we are 
 the most deeply concerned about at present. To 
 march out to liberty would be much more pre¬ 
 ferable than to go out by way of the dead- 
 house; and yet, how many poor fellows must, go 
 by the latter route before the blessing of the 
 former is made available to them! 
 
 Owing to the favorable weather the death 
 rate is becoming somewhat smaller, but the 
 prison authorities are not entitled to any credit 
 for it. They have made no exertion towards 
 diminishing the death rate. I am quite sure if 
 it was within their power, they would increase 
 rather than decrease it. I visited the citizen 
 prisoners to-day and find their numbers are 
 diminishing at about the same ratio as the other 
 prisoners, 
 
 i - ; 
 
 This evening as the wood choppers came to 
 the gate they were halted and the officer of the 
 guard informed them that their services as 
 wood choppers' would be no longer needed. He 
 requested each man to hand him his parole by 
 which he was allowed to pass out of the stock¬ 
 ade to cut and bring in wood. Two days supply 
 of wood is generally kept on hand, and as these 
 wood-men are now discharged it certainly means 
 that the time of our departure is not far distant. 
 
 276 
 

 February 19tli. When we are to leave here 
 and where- we shall go is the theme of conversa 
 tion all over the prison grounds. A report has 
 been started that an army is marching towards 
 this place, and we are to be 'shipped farther 
 south. This is not generally believed, and would 
 be a disastrous thing if it should prove to be 
 true. The report has been brought in by the 
 water squad that we are to be taken to Wil¬ 
 mington, N. C., and there exchanged. One 
 thing is certain, we .are going to leave this place 
 but when we are going time alone can tell. 
 
 The rebel preacher did not put in his appear¬ 
 ance to-day. I suppose he discovered from the 
 treatment he received last Sunday that his visit 
 was not very acceptable. As a consequence we 
 got no rebel -sermon to-day, and I fear we have 
 lost the friendship of one minister of the Gospel 
 —such as he is. 
 
 February 20th. Our rations came to us this 
 morning in quantity, the loaf being much smal¬ 
 ler than usual. Our adopted Johnnie came over 
 to our dugout to-day in a state of great excite¬ 
 ment, He said a rebel officer was in the “devil's 
 den” last evening counting the convicts, and he 
 is afraid the convicts will be taken out before 
 the soldier prisoners go, and if they do, they 
 will get, him sure. He 1 said one of the guards 
 
 277 
 
informed him we were to leave to-day or to-mor¬ 
 row. Trains- are coming and going, and on the 
 arrival of each train, the boys are ready to bet 
 that is onr train. The suspense we are endur¬ 
 ing is painful; hope has been the only staff on 
 which we have leaned, and by it men who are 
 walking skeletons have been kept up and saved 
 from breaking down and dying; while others 
 have become despondent and, according to the 
 vernacular of the prison, have made “fat 
 corpses.” 
 
 This evening I made a visit to market Square 
 to hear the latest reports and imagine my sur¬ 
 prise when I saw Gilman, A u ringer’si brother- 
 in-law, who made his escape on the night of the 
 10th with him and others. He informed me 
 that they were tracked in the snow on the Sun- 
 day night, the 12tli, and he was recaptured. The 
 others ran in different directions and in the 
 chase one man was killed and lie believed it to 
 be Auringer. 
 
 Thus another noble spirit was ushered into 
 the presence of his Maker, sent thither by the 
 brutal hand of a murderer. How long, oh God, 
 how long will such fearful atrocities be allowed? 
 
 The tidings of An ringer’s death was sad news 
 to me. I was fortunate in forming a very close 
 and happy acquaintance with this comrade in 
 the early part of onr imprisonment. He was a 
 
 278 
 
whole-soled, genial fellow, of a happy disposi¬ 
 tion, always looking on the bright side of things ; 
 seldom despondent himself, lie always had a 
 word of cheer for liis associates. When we 
 bade each other farewell on the night of the 
 10th inst., he had great hope of reaching our 
 lines. We spent an hour together that evening 
 building “castles in the air.” When we parted 
 he promised me if lie succeeded in reaching our 
 lines, he would write immediately to my wife, 
 and added in a jocular way: 
 
 ‘Til be making love to her before you get 
 home.” 
 
 To which I replied: 
 
 “All right.” 
 
 And then in the darkness we parted—lie to 
 escape, only to die a horrible death—I to live a 
 little longer, and still suffer what is worse than 
 death. The bone Bible which he presented to 
 me. when he left, I carefully preserved through 
 the remainder of my imprisonment, and on my 
 return home gave it to my wife. While I am 
 copying these lines from the original bits of 
 paper on which they were written while I was 
 in prison (thirty years after the 1 tragic incident 
 fdok place), it lies on the desk before me, and is 
 one of the most dearly-prized treasures' of our 
 household. The ring I gave poor Auringer 
 
 279 
 
never reached its destination. I am convinced 
 that it became the property of some heartless, 
 murderous rebel. 
 
 February 21st. Rations were issued to us 
 
 earlier than usual. The commanders of squads 
 « 
 
 were ordered to report to the officers at the 
 
 / 
 
 gate promptly at 12 o’clock noon. When they 
 had reported they were ordered to make a 
 report of the number in each squad who were 
 not able to march, in order that transportation 
 might be furnished for them, but all who were 
 able must march to Greensboro, a distance of 
 about sixty miles, from which place transporta¬ 
 tion will be furnished us to our lines. Our depart¬ 
 ure is to take place to-morrow. When the Ser¬ 
 geants came in and announced the welcome 
 news, the commotion began. Such shouting 
 and singing! No tongue nor pen can describe 
 the joy and happiness this welcome message 
 brought to the prisoners. Handshaking was 
 the order of the hour, reminding one of an old- 
 fashioned Methodist love-feast. Crocker’s feet 
 were too sore to permit him to walk, and Judson 
 was too weak, so they were both put on the list 
 for transportation. The rest of our little dug- 
 out family were willing to undertake the over¬ 
 land route. Our Johnnie was as happy as the 
 rest of us, and kept clear of any rebel officer who 
 chanced to pass through the stockade. 
 
 280 
 
After receiving the joyful news of our release 
 to-morrow, Connely and I went to the dead- 
 house and copied from the register a list of the 
 dead from October 6th, 1864, to February 21st, 
 1865, at noon. The number of deaths for the 
 138 days aggregates 3,800. 
 
 In the month of April following our release, 
 when General Stoneman captured the town and 
 prison, the rebels burned the books to prevent 
 them from falling into the possession of our 
 Government, and their terrible crime be discov¬ 
 ered. The 1 following is the only record now in 
 existence, so far as I know, and that covers only 
 the short space of 138 days, and inside the prison 
 only. There has been a large number taken to 
 the hospitals outside the stockade from time to 
 time and the number of deaths there we have no 
 means of obtaining, but from the best informa¬ 
 tion we have the death list there will add to the 
 following number five hundred more, making a 
 total of four thousand and three hundred. 
 
 In the hospitals there are several hundred who 
 are so emaciated by long starvation and suffer¬ 
 ing that are too weak to be moved, and unless 
 speedy relief comes to their aid they, too, must 
 soon follow their dead comrades' who sleep in 
 the unknown graves of Salisbury Prison, vic¬ 
 tims of a barbarous foe. 
 
 281 
 
 V 
 
1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 10 
 
 11 
 
 12 
 
 13 
 
 14 
 
 15 
 
 10 
 
 17 
 
 18 
 
 19 
 
 20 
 
 21 
 
 22 
 
 23 
 
 24 
 
 25 
 
 20 
 
 27 
 
 28 
 
 29 
 
 30 
 
 31 
 
 November 
 
 December 
 
 January 
 
 February 
 
 Date 
 
 Deaths 
 
 Date 
 
 Deaths 
 
 Date 
 
 Deaths 
 
 Date 
 
 Deaths 
 
 1 
 
 19 
 
 1 
 
 58 
 
 1 
 
 40 
 
 1 
 
 23 
 
 2 
 
 28 
 
 2 
 
 48 
 
 2 
 
 40 
 
 2 
 
 20 
 
 3 
 
 34 
 
 3 
 
 37 
 
 3 
 
 33 
 
 3 
 
 25 
 
 4 
 
 23 
 
 4 
 
 29 
 
 4 
 
 34 
 
 4 
 
 43 
 
 5 
 
 34 
 
 5 
 
 40 
 
 5 
 
 34 
 
 5 
 
 14 
 
 0 
 
 19 
 
 0 
 
 29 
 
 0 
 
 28 
 
 0 
 
 24 
 
 7 
 
 22 
 
 7 
 
 37 
 
 7 
 
 39 
 
 7 
 
 20 
 
 8 
 
 17 
 
 8 
 
 34 
 
 8 
 
 20 
 
 8 
 
 29 
 
 9 
 
 20 
 
 9 
 
 28 
 
 9 
 
 34 
 
 9 
 
 17 
 
 10 
 
 19 
 
 10 
 
 30 
 
 10 
 
 10 
 
 10 
 
 20 
 
 11 
 
 23 
 
 11 
 
 48 
 
 11 
 
 22 
 
 11 
 
 23 
 
 12 
 
 32 
 
 12 
 
 34 
 
 12 
 
 40 
 
 12 
 
 24 
 
 13 
 
 37 
 
 13 
 
 35 
 
 13 
 
 23 
 
 13 
 
 18 
 
 14 
 
 19 
 
 14 
 
 34 
 
 14 > 
 
 39 
 
 14 
 
 24 
 
 15 
 
 29 
 
 15 
 
 40 
 
 15 
 
 31 
 
 15 
 
 24 
 
 10 
 
 19 
 
 10 
 
 29 
 
 10 
 
 34 
 
 10 
 
 20 
 
 17 
 
 23 
 
 17 
 
 34 
 
 17 
 
 20 
 
 17 
 
 19 
 
 18 
 
 30 
 
 18 
 
 28 
 
 18 
 
 30 
 
 18 
 
 8 
 
 19 
 
 19 
 
 19 
 
 38 
 
 19 
 
 29 
 
 19 
 
 10 
 
 20 
 
 20 
 
 20 
 
 20 
 
 20 
 
 19 
 
 20 
 
 19 
 
 21 
 
 37 
 
 21 
 
 30 
 
 2L 
 
 18 
 
 21 
 
 It 
 
 22 
 
 37 
 
 22 
 
 42 
 
 22 
 
 27 
 
 
 
 23 
 
 31 
 
 23 
 
 48 
 
 23 
 
 32 
 
 
 
 24 
 
 34 
 
 24 
 
 48 
 
 24 
 
 18 
 
 
 
 25 
 
 53 
 
 25 
 
 05 
 
 25 
 
 20 
 
 
 
 20 
 
 59 
 
 20 
 
 24 
 
 20 
 
 29 
 
 
 
 27 
 
 52 
 
 27 
 
 37 
 
 27 
 
 39 
 
 
 
 28 
 
 59 
 
 28 
 
 39 
 
 28 
 
 30 
 
 
 
 29 
 
 40 
 
 29 
 
 31 
 
 29 
 
 23. 
 
 
 
 30 
 
 57 
 
 30 
 
 35 
 
 30 
 
 37 
 
 
 
 
 
 31 
 
 35 
 
 31 
 
 27 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 909 
 
 
 1104 
 
 
 942 
 
 1 
 
 458 
 
 282 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 The Day of Jubilee lias Come- — The Sick 
 Removed to the Cars — Major Gee Announces 
 Our Rule use and Departure — A Crazy Lot — 
 Marching out of Hell — “Farewell Ye Noble 
 Dead!” — Pen Pictures of Myself and Connely 
 — The March Towards Freedom and Home — 
 Our First Camp — The Wolf Lies Down With 
 the* Lamb — Peaceful Sleep and a Joyful 
 Awakening — On the Road Again — Trade a 
 Ring for “Sow Bosom” — A Perilous Crossing 
 — -Two Men Drowned—Our Second Night’s 
 Camp. 
 
 February 22nd. This morning the prison 
 was in commotion at an early hour. Three days’ 
 rations were issued to each man — one loaf for 
 each instead of for two, as it was in the prison. 
 One-half of the guards were taken from the 
 stockade, the big gate was opened, and the sick 
 that were able were ordered to be moved out. 
 They were moved to the railroad and placed on 
 the cars, their intimate friends rendering them 
 all the service they could. Crocker walked out 
 
 283 
 
and was put into a stock car. Each car was 
 filled to its utmost capacity;,some of the poor 
 fellows had to stand, others were piled around 
 wherever room could be found for them to lie 
 down. The sick were loaded by 11 o’clock 
 (leaving a great many who were too weak to be 
 moved at all. A guard lined the road on either 
 side, taking great care that; none should escape. 
 Poor fools, this precaution!was entirely unneces¬ 
 sary ; not a man of us, sick or well, desired to 
 remain in this accursed country any longer than 
 he had to. 
 
 Between 11 and 12 o’clock Major Gee climbed 
 on the stockade, took his position at a sentinel’s 
 stand, and informed us that we were now to 
 start on our journey to our lines, and owing to 
 the amount of business being done on the rail¬ 
 road to Greensboro, it was impossible to furnish 
 us transportation, but it would be furnished to 
 us from that; point to our lines. Here let me 
 digress long enough to say that during the last 
 three months there have been from one to four 
 maniacs in the prison. Then the number was 
 reduced to two, and on last. Saturday one of 
 them died, leaving only one. But judging from 
 the scenes that took,place after he had ceased 
 talking, one would have good reason to say that 
 all had gone crazy. Some would curse him, 
 some sing, while others would pray. The con- 
 
 284 
 
fusion of tongues was as great as at the build¬ 
 ing of the Tower of Babel. 
 
 About; half past 12 o’clock the men were 
 formed into column and marched out at the 
 north gate, protected on each side by a heavy 
 guard of rebel soldiers. What a splendid oppor¬ 
 tunity this was for some artist to gain renown 
 by drawing a picture of this ragged, emaciated 
 army. It looked more like an army of skeletons 
 than an army of men. But little did we care 
 how we looked. We were at last, thank God, 
 outside the awful living hell — -Salisbury Prison 
 pen. The joy of our release ; the knowledge that 
 we were on our road to freedom and to home, 
 and the bright anticipations of the future made 
 us perfectly oblivious to- everything else. There 
 was one thought, I however, which cast a gloom 
 over the joy of this happy hour; it was that we 
 were leaving behind us the remains of so many 
 brave comrades who were near and dear to us 
 
 by the close association of prison life, with its 
 
 ^ _ 
 
 mutual sorrows and sufferings. We may leave 
 
 you behind, brave, noble, loyal comrades, but as 
 long as memory survives we will never forget 
 you! Brave and true soldiers ye were indeed! 
 Every man might have saved his life and pro¬ 
 cured his release by accepting the seductive 
 inducements of the rebel recruiting officers who 
 so often invaded the prison. But no; ye pre- 
 
 285 
 
ferred. honorable death to a dishonorable life, 
 the price of which must be treason to your 
 Flag. We shall ever remember your noble hero¬ 
 ism and unswerving fidelity to your country. 
 That holy Flag for which you have died will yet 
 wave triumphant over treason and rebellion — 
 the Flag of a united Nation — the land of the 
 free and the home of the brave. Your names 
 will be enshrined in the affections of a loval 
 and grateful people, while the names of your 
 murderers will be a foul stench in the nostrils 
 of all the peoples! of the earth. With profound 
 sorrow we leave you behind. Your resting 
 places will be unkown to men, but they will be 
 known to Him whose eye sees the flight of a 
 sparrow, and whose love has counted even the 
 hair of vour heads. Comrades dead and beloved, 
 farewell! When we meet again it may be to 
 hear from Himiwho deals out justice tempered 
 with mercy to all, the welcome, “Well done, 
 good and faithful servant, enter thou into the 
 joy of thy Lord!” 
 
 Perhaps my readers would like to have me 
 give them, as well ais I can, a description of 
 mvself as I looked when I marched out of Satis- 
 
 9 ./ 
 
 bury Prison this memorable dav. It will be a 
 difficult task, but I will make the attempt. 
 
 First, as to my cooking outfit. If consisted of 
 an old fruit can, a wooden spoon, a case-knife, 
 
 m 
 
and a long-handled frying pan. The frying pan 
 was a .partnership utensil which we had smug¬ 
 gled through Major Turner’s revenue office 
 when we removed from Libby Prison, without 
 his stamps of approval being placed upon it, 
 and which we were now keeping as a relic of 
 that event. I was also in possession of two rub¬ 
 ber linger rings which 1 made during the last 
 few days I spent in the prison, and which I 
 wanted to take home to my wife. In order to 
 overcome the temptation to trade them off, I 
 put them on the third finger, on which they 
 fitted very tightly. In this way I hoped 
 to succeed in getting them home, knowing 
 how well my wife would treasure a relic 
 of fills kind, especially as it_ was made 
 by myself . in the prison. £ For hose, I 
 wore a pair of moccasins made out of the legs 
 of an old pair of pants, taken from the dead 
 body of a comrade. My shirt was so dilapidated 
 that it was not strong enough to hold a patch, 
 while the left sleeve had disappeared altogether. 
 My pantaloons, or what, out of respect and 
 courtesy, I called pantaloons, were a monument 
 of careful, but hopeless, patching. The lower 
 extremities were some considerable distance 
 above my ankles, while their general condition 
 provided my body with plenty of fresh air. My 
 blouse, much the worse for long and continuous 
 wear when I was captured, was now a hopeless 
 
 287 
 
mass of ruins, and was of the seventeen year 
 locust pattern,split f up the back. What there was 
 left of it, was held together with strings, and 
 unfortunately, the same sleeve was gone that 
 was missing from my shirt. For this reason I 
 was compelled to turn my blouse wrong side 
 out, that I might treat both arms with some 
 sort of fairness. Thus, neither naked nor clad, 
 barefooted nor shod, hoodwinked as to our des¬ 
 tination, with an old regulation cap covering 
 my head, which gave me a heathenish appear¬ 
 ance, I went out from Salisbury Prison in a con¬ 
 dition that would have been a lasting disgrace 
 to a third-class tramp of our day. 
 
 Perhaps a partial description of my friend 
 Oonnely’s appearance is needed! to finish the 
 picture. His 'shoes could scarcely be called 
 “good;” especially would they be accounted 
 scarcely serviceable if the roads were muddy 
 and wet, owing to the fact that he had used his 
 knife on them too freely when captured, as he 
 did his hat, in order to impress his thieving cap- 
 tors that they w r ere scarcely worth taking from 
 their lawful owner. The crown of his hat had 
 long since departed into innocuous deseutude,” 
 which gave the graybaeks a fine opportunity of 
 crawling out at the top to take a sun bath when 
 their health and the weather would permit them 
 to take such healthful exercise. His shirt had 
 
 288 
 
been on the gray back skirmish line so often that 
 it required an assistant to help him adjust it on 
 his noble frame. (The frame was all that was 
 left of him.) His blouse, following the fashion 
 of the day, was without a button, and almost 
 sleeveless, and more holy than righteous. His 
 pantaloons had shrunk until the two ends were 
 trying to embrace each other. 
 
 In the condition I have tried to describe we 
 started to take a regular old-fashioned, spread- 
 eagle tour through a part of the Southern Con¬ 
 federacy, traveling with all the speed possible 
 for a better “country,” expecting in days to 
 come to reap the reward to which we were fully 
 entitled by reason of the terrible suffering we 
 had endured. 
 
 As night approached, the officer in charge 
 conducted us to one side of the road and into 
 the timber, where we went into camp. We soon 
 had fires burning and prepared our burnt-bread 
 coffee. We had three days’ rations and felt the 
 necessity of governing ourselves accordingly— 
 the temptation being very strong to eat it all at 
 this first meal taken on the road to liberty and 
 home. Blessed words! How sweet thy sound in 
 the ears of a poor captive! After we had eaten 
 sparingly of our scanty store, we gathered 
 leaves and prepared our beds for the night. Not 
 expecting any one to attempt to escape, and not 
 
 289 
 
caring if they did, rebels as well as Union men 
 were soon wrapped in the silence.of sleep. This 
 was one instance, at least, where the wolf and 
 the lamb lay down together. How blessed it is 
 to be ont where we can breathe the pure air of 
 God’s own giving. What a wonderful change 
 from the stifled, foul-smelling, disease-laden air 
 we have been inhaling for nearly five months! 
 It is glorious to be here and not there; new life 
 and strength are coming to us already. 
 
 February 23rd. The dawning of this morn 
 ing was hailed with inexpressible joy that we 
 are not amid the disgusting, heart-sickening 
 scenes and surroundings of the old stockade. 
 We are beginning to feel like new men. Fires 
 were blazing and we were soon enjoying their 
 genial warmth. The nights are quite cold, and 
 having very little covering for our bodies, we 
 were quite chilled and the fire does us good. We 
 prepared our usual burnt-bread coffee, and by 
 eight o’clock were again on the road, with our 
 faces and hearts turned towards home. M> 
 hunger being stronger than my discretion, 1 
 find I have already consumed the larger portion 
 of my rations, and fearing I would run short, 1 
 started out to try and trade one of my rings for 
 food. 
 
 In marching part of the guards are in the 
 lead of the column, the rest bringing up the 
 
 290 
 
rear. Much to our astonishment we are allowed 
 to travel as we please, and even to visit houses 
 along the road. While we were passing a house 
 this forenoon- two ladies were standing in front 
 to see the Yankees. I approached them, 
 showed them my rings, and proposed to trade 
 them one for some meat. One of the ladies went 
 to the smokehouse and returned with a piece of 
 “sow-bosom” about four inches square and two 
 inches thick, for which I gave her one of my 
 rings. When I tried to take it off my finger I 
 found just as I had hoped, my finger had 
 swelled and it seemed very doubtful about my 
 coming into possession of that much-coveted 
 piece of dead swine. I tried soaping the finger, 
 but that would not work. The lady was not 
 going to be deprived of her “Yankee relic” so 
 easily, so she told me to wait a moment and she 
 would get the ring off my finger. Going into the 
 house, she soon returned with a spool of thread 
 and wrapped some of it about my finger below 
 the ring. Her genius succeeded, and in a few 
 moments the ring was in her hand, the “sow 
 bosom” in mine, and two more souls were made 
 happy. But it took the skill of a woman to do it. 
 
 •About noon we came to a stream which, 
 owing to recent rains, was bankfull and the cur¬ 
 rent running with terrible swiftness. The only 
 way we had to get across was by walking on the 
 
 291 
 
railroad bridge which, under the most favorable 
 conditions, was a dangerous! undertaking. It 
 was doubly so now owing to the slippery nature 
 of the mud. The railroad bridges in this country 
 are different kinds of structures to any I ever 
 saw before. Generally they consist of a frame 
 work built across the stream, on which timbers 
 twelve inches square are laid and fastened. The 
 rails are spiked in the center of these cross 
 timbers, leaving only three and a half inches 
 of space on either side of the rails to walk on. 
 The danger of walking on such a narrow strip, 
 over a swollen and rapidly flowing stream, is 
 apparent to all. About one thousand men had 
 to cross before I reached the bridge. Some 
 would “coom” it across . Others would walk the 
 stringers, placing a foot on each side of the rail 
 and joining hands, would thus assist each other 
 in the difficult task. I tried the latter plan, but 
 concluded if I fell in I wanted to go by myself. 
 
 After getting about half way across, I became 
 dizzy and got down on my knees and “conned” 
 it the remaining distance, much to the delight of 
 others, but with perfect satisfaction to myself, 
 
 After reaching the other side of the stream, I 
 stepped to one side and waited for Oonnely to 
 cross, and while jwiaiting, I heard a cry from 
 the middle of the bridge. I looked in that direc¬ 
 tion and saw two men fall and strike the water 
 
 292 
 
SOUTHERN RAIL ROAD BRIDGE. 
 
 7 
 
 293 
 
together. They came to the surface and started 
 for the shore near where I was standing, but the 
 current was so strong and swift they could not 
 make any headway, and so drifted down the 
 stream. Every effort possible was made to 
 rescue them, but to no purpose; they soon went 
 down to rise no more. It was sad to think just 
 as the poor fellows were on the threshold of lib¬ 
 erty, and expecting soon to meet their loved 
 ones, they went down to a watery grave. Thus 
 their long-cherished hopes were blighted, and 
 two more homes were left to mourn for the 
 loved ones who would not return. The column 
 succeeded in getting across, the stream without 
 further accident, and wended its wav through a 
 drearv, desolate country. To our great delight 
 and comfort the weather was fine, the sun was 
 warm and shed its bright rays on our poor, half- 
 clad bodies, which filled us with good cheer and 
 hope, in spite of our general wretchedness. Our 
 progress! was very slow, the roads being quite 
 muddy. Mymoccasins were in such a dilapidated 
 condition that I was compelled to abandon 
 them, and failing to find a substitute, I had to 
 continue the journey barefooted. Owing to the 
 fatigued condition of the prisoners, we went 
 into camp quite early in an open field, or clear¬ 
 ing, where we soon built up fires, and once more 
 drew on our scanty rations, I had eaten about 
 
 m 
 
one-half of my “sow bosom” raw during the 
 afternoon, and a paid of the remainder I put 
 into the can in which I made my burnt-bread 
 coffee, which made a rich cup of coffee, or soup, 
 for my supper. After eating supper, we again 
 prepared our beds and lay down for another 
 night’s rest under a clear sky, and in a pure 
 atmosphere. ( 
 
 295 
 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 Rations all Gone—Improvised Shoes—Sick and 
 Dead—Humane Officers—My Last Ring Goes 
 for Bread—On the Wagon Road—Curiosity— 
 Foraging for Food—Flour and Sour Molasses 
 —“Who Stole My Corn.?”—Supper and a 
 Sleepless Night—A Strange Discovery— 
 Intense Suffering—A Terrific Storm—My 
 “Shoes” Abondoned—Keen Suffering— 
 Greensboro and Rations—Off for Raleigh— 
 The Town—No Rations—A Noble Deed of a 
 Noble Child—Off for Goldsborough—A Poor 
 R ailroa d—G o 1 d sb o r o u gli—H ome Anti cipa - 
 tions. 
 
 February 24th. The night has passed and 
 morning has again dawned. We are alive, but 
 thoroughly chilled, the night having been very 
 cold. We are now drawing on our last day's , 
 rations, and they are so* reduced in quantity that 
 it almost requires a magnifying glass to dis¬ 
 cover them. Fires are lighted and our scanty 
 meal is soon prepared and eaten. We are now 
 facing the painful fact that our rations are all 
 
 296 
 
gone and we are still two days distant from 
 Greensboro, where, they tell us, they will take 
 up our “tie passes” and allow us to ride the 
 rest of the wav. My feet are so sore this morn- 
 
 «/' ts 
 
 ing that it causes me great pain to walk bare¬ 
 footed. They burn as if they were frozen. Hay¬ 
 ing no further use for the tent in which I have 
 been carrying my food, I tied pieces of it about 
 my feet as best I could, hoping in this way to 
 protect them from the gravel roads over which 
 we travel. 
 
 We started out between 8 and 9 o’clock, eager 
 to reach the end of our journey. The good hope 
 of reaching home acts as a stimulant to many 
 who, under other circumstances, could not 
 endure the fatigue of marching. After camp 
 was cleared, five men were found who could not 
 travel, being sick, with a very high fever. In 
 addition to these ten were reported as having 
 died during the night. The officer in command 
 left one comrade and one guard to stay with the 
 sick, giving them instructions to signal the first 
 train passing and put them on board. It is evi¬ 
 dent our old friend, Major Gee, is not in com¬ 
 mand of this detachment, or such favors as this 
 would not be shown to- the sick. We are under 
 the command of a Captain, who has two Lieu¬ 
 tenants as his assistants, and so far, they have 
 been kind enough to give us all the liberty we 
 
 297 
 
could ask for. This afternoon I was compelled 
 to trade my last ring for something to eat. I 
 got in return for it a corn dodger weighing 
 about two,pounds, and a piece of tobacco two 
 inches square. 
 
 During the afternoon we left the railroad and 
 began traveling on the wagon road', which is not 
 so crooked, thereby saving about two miles of 
 travel. The route along the public roads is 
 thickly settled, and at every house we pass the 
 doors and front yards are filled with women and 
 children eagerly scrutinizing the Yankees. 
 Many comical, and not very flattering remarks 
 are made concerning our appearance. Some are 
 afraid to come out of the doorway, and are ready 
 to retreat in case a Yankee should move towards 
 the house. During the day we crossed several 
 streams on the railroad bridges and succeeded 
 in crossing without any accident. We also 
 crossed one stream on the wagon bridge, which 
 is much safer and speedier than using the rail¬ 
 road bridges. We marched to a later hour 
 today than usual, and consequently .we are a 
 tired and discouraged lot of human beings. The 
 rations were all consumed in the morning, so 
 we have nothing to 1 eat tonight. Owing to the 
 muddy roads, picking our way over the slippery 
 ties of the railroad, when we walked there, 
 
 298 
 
made today’s march one of very intense suffer- 
 i n o’ 
 
 Before we went into camp for ,the night Oon- 
 nely and myself had all our corn bread eaten up, 
 and we were still one day’s march from Greens¬ 
 boro. It was thought we could coyer the dis¬ 
 tance in three days, but we got such a late start 
 on the 22nd, and the roads being so muddy, that 
 it took us longer to make the trip. During the 
 day stragglers were visiting farm houses in 
 search of something to eat, but owing to tlieir 
 destitue circumstances the people were able to 
 give them but very little. However, we suc¬ 
 ceeded in getting some sweet potatoes, corn and 
 corn bread. Many persons yame in from the 
 plantations with pockets full of sugar-cane seed, 
 which made the best substitute for coffee we 
 have found in Dixie. I found one generous lady 
 who gave me two 1 sweet potatoes. At another 
 place I procured two good sized ears of corn. It 
 
 * was nearly dark when the head of the column 
 halted and went into camp, The outlook was 
 dreary and so disheartening. We were tired, 
 hungry and foot-sore. About one hour after we 
 went into camp, plantation carts were driven up 
 ’ loaded with flour and sour molasses. This was 
 issued to us at the rate of about one pint of 
 flour and about four ounces of molasses to each 
 man. After we had received our rations Con- 
 
 299 
 
nelly went out an search of water, and while he 
 
 t/ S 
 
 was gone I sat down pn our blanket with the 
 flour and molasses in front of me, and the sweet 
 potatoes and corn under the blanket. When 
 Connelly returned with the water J mixed our 
 flour into a sort of mush, and while lie was boil¬ 
 ing it I was going to parch the corn so we could 
 enjoy (Some genuine corn-coffee. Imagine, if you 
 can my feelings when I looked under the blanket 
 to get my corn and found it was gone. When or 
 how the two' nice ears of corn were taken I 
 could not tell, as I had not been away from the 
 blanket a single moment. My disappointment 
 at the loss of our treasure was so great, that 
 the words uttered would scarcely be appropri¬ 
 ate for these pages. I was certain I knew who 
 had stolen the corn, but when, with many harsh 
 and bitter words, I accused him of the theft, lie 
 stoutly denied the charge and strongly pro¬ 
 tested his innocence. But his protests and 
 denials neither satisfied my feelings nor 
 appeased my appetite. The man was a member 
 of my own regiment, but lie was in such a 
 wretched condition that I was certain he would 
 not live to reach our lines, and for him to eat it 
 was simply a waste of good food. What 
 wretched, selfish, almost inhuman creatures 
 starvation, abuse and suffering will make of 
 men! We were cheated out of our coffee, but 
 
 300 
 
when our mnsh was cooked, we poured the sour 
 molasses over it and, with our wooden spoons, 
 made short work of it. We then eat our sweet 
 potatoes, after which, the hour being late, we 
 lay down on the wet ground, covering ourselves 
 with the blanket, in which manner we passed a 
 sleepless, wretched night. 
 
 February 25th. I find myself very weak and 
 exhausted this morning. I am very feverish 
 and my whole system is tortured by pain. Yes¬ 
 terday was one of the worst days I have passed 
 since I was taken prisoner, and I am feeling the 
 effects of it today. The suffering caused by the 
 wet condition of my clothes was greatly aug¬ 
 mented by consuming hunger. 
 
 Our adopted Johnnie came to us and gave 
 us some sugar cane seed, which we parched and 
 with which we made some coffee. We drank 
 the coffee and eat the seed which, in a small 
 wav, served to appease our dreadful hunger. 
 
 The early morning was beautiful to behold, 
 but the sky was soon overcast with dark clouds 
 and a severe thunder-storm broke upon us. I 
 think it was one of the worst storms I ever saw. 
 It was accompanied by a drenching rain, Which 
 lasted three hours. We were without shelter 
 or fire, and so were compelled to keep moving to 
 avoid being chilled. The pieces of tent with 
 
 301 
 
which my feet were covered became so wet and 
 heavy with water and mud that I could not keep 
 them on piy feet; I was compelled- to abandon 
 them and continue my journey barefooted. 
 After the rain ceased it remained cloudy and 
 chilly until about 1 o'clock when, to our great 
 delight, the sun came out bright and warm. 
 
 We are now nearing the end of our journey 
 and are anxious to get the first glimpse of the 
 town. Trains were running to and from it, and 
 we were often compelled to get to one side of 
 the track to give them the right of way. About 
 2 o’clock we came in sight of the town, and a 
 hearty hurrah was sent up from one end of the 
 column to the other. A young “tar-heeel” 
 asked if we were cheering their flag? One of 
 our boys said that the people of Goldsborough 
 saw us coming and thought it was Sherman’s 
 army approaching, and they had pulled down 
 their old rag, andyit would not be long until it 
 was pulled down at Richmond. 
 
 Our progress was very slow and our suffering 
 intense. While we could see the town and were 
 so anxious to reach it, yet it was with the great¬ 
 est difficulty we could muster strength enough 
 to go on. Some were so fatigued and discour¬ 
 aged they felt like lying down by the roadside 
 and giving up the struggle, but They were 
 encouraged and urged forward by more hopeful, 
 
 302 
 
determined comrades, who reminded them that 
 the fair land of freedom and 1 of home was not 
 far distant, and the victory would soon be ours. 
 The officer in command also helped to 
 encourage us forward by telling us that when 
 we got to the town we would be served with 
 rations, and ride the rest of our journey. 
 
 About 5 o’clock we entered Greensboro, more 
 dead than alive, and were camped in the out¬ 
 skirts of the town, with a guard all about us. 
 A good many of the boys were left by the road¬ 
 side during the last few miles of our march, 
 they being too weak to keep up. Some guards 
 were left behind to accompany them as they 
 became able to travel. Rations of corn bread 
 were issued to us. The loaves were supposed to 
 weigh one pound each. When the stragglers 
 were all in and had eaten their corn bread, we 
 were put on board the cars, destined for Ral¬ 
 eigh, North Carolina. Our train pulled out of 
 Greensborougk at 9 o’clock P. M. We were 
 piled on flat cars, there being only two or three 
 box cars, and they were filled to their utmost 
 capacity. It was my misfortune to be assigned 
 to a flat car, and there were so many crowded on 
 it, that those who sat on the edge of the car 
 were in constant danger of being crowded off. I 
 sat on the edge of the car, but took the pre¬ 
 caution to place one foot against the iron stake 
 
 303 
 
and thus braced myself, making my position 
 more safe. The speed of the train was very slow 
 and the night air quite cold. Sleep was out of 
 the question, especially to those who were sit¬ 
 uated as I was. The men who were seated on 
 the floor of the car could get some sleep by put¬ 
 ting their backs together, but sitting on the 
 edge of the car was too dangerous a position to 
 admit of going to sleep. 
 
 February 26th. We reached Kaleigh about 
 8 o’clock this Sabbath morning, haying passed 
 through a night of great suffering. Soon after 
 reaching the town we were unloaded and were 
 soon surrounded by the citizens, who were 
 anxious to see what a Yank looked like. We 
 were interviewed and reviewed by both black 
 and white, male and female, and if they formed 
 their opinion of us from our present appearance, 
 I am sure we would not be flattered by them. 
 But it was brutes and demons of their own ilk 
 who brought us into the condition we are in. 
 When I got off the train my feet were so sore 
 my knees and ankles ached so severely, I could 
 not walk without assistance. We remained here 
 until about 1 o’clock P. M. Having eaten up all 
 the bread issued to me at Greensborough, I am 
 now’ without any food to satisfy my hunger. If 
 I had any money, or any relics to dispose of, I 
 could have purchased food, but the only relics 
 
 304 
 
I have left are wrapped up in my piece of tent, 
 and nothing could now tempt me to part witn 
 them. Some of the boys took a walk around 
 town, but I was not able to walk, and even if I 
 had been able, I would not have gone, because I 
 have seen all of this doomed Confederacy I want 
 to see. I would be supremely happy if I could 
 see the whole country falling into—Hades. 
 
 When the command started for the depot it 
 was with very great difficulty that I could stand 
 on my feet, but the fair and beautiful homeland 
 of which I had so often dreamed by night and 
 by day seemed so near that I used my utmost 
 exertions to walk. Connelly came to my help 
 
 0 
 
 by telling me that tomorrow we would see our 
 flag once more. This put new strength into my 
 aching limbs, and enabled me to march to the 
 depot to take the train for freedom. The depot 
 was four or five blocks away, and while we were 
 marching along the street, and passing a small 
 cottage, a little girl some five or six years old, 
 came running towards me with a pair of old 
 boots in her hands having the tops cut off at 
 the instep. She reached them to me, saying: 
 
 “Here, soldier, is an old pair of boots; they 
 are not very good ones, but they will keep your 
 feet off the stones.” 
 
 You may imagine my joy as well as my grati¬ 
 tude to the dear child. I immediately put them 
 
 305 
 
on, and from that day to this, I have never had 
 any foot-gear I appreciated as I did those old 
 boots. I thanked the little girl; placed my hand 
 on her head and prayed for the blessing of God 
 to rest upon her. In my haste, and the excite¬ 
 ment of the moment, I forget to ask her name, 
 which I would be glad to have enshrined in my 
 heart, as I have her kind act to me, in my desti¬ 
 tute condition. When ,she accosted me she did 
 not say, as all southerners do, “Yank!” She 
 said “Soldier!” a royal term of which I was 
 never more proud than at that moment. Does it 
 not indicate that in her home 'there were hearts 
 that beat affeetionaely for the Stars and 
 Stripes, and for those who had suffered in 
 defence of that dear Flag? We reached the 
 depot and were soon aboard the cars bound ,for 
 Goldsborough, where we are to be paroled. Our 
 train was composed of flat cars, and by making 
 great exertions, I was on board in time to get 
 a middle berth. The train pulled out and bore 
 us away toward our lines, where we shall regain 
 our freedom and then—home. The country 
 through which we passed looked so desolate and 
 forsaken that I wondered the sun thought it 
 worth while to shine upon it at all, but God is so 
 merciful that He maketh His sun to shine upon 
 the bad as well as upon the good. I am sure 
 He does more than man would do—especially 
 men in our condition. The speed of our train is 
 
 B06 
 
very slow, at ieast it seems so to us. The road 
 is very rough and much out of repair, and from 
 the clatter ( m!ade by the engine and cars, they 
 are not in better shape than the road-bed. Usu¬ 
 ally the grades are quite steep, and on one grade 
 the engine failed to reach the level. The train 
 was backed down and we were compelled to 
 wait an hour until steam sufficient to take us 
 up the grade could be made. We reached 
 Goldsborough just at dark, and were marched 
 a quarter of a mile out of the city, where we 
 entered a clearing and camped for the night. 
 Connely and myself found a dry spot, or as dry 
 a snot as we could, which was near a large pine 
 stump. Here we lay down on the bare 
 ground, pulling our blanket over us, this being 
 the only piece of bedding we now possess. We 
 talked of home and the comforts we would soon 
 be enjoying, and already anticipated the joyful 
 welcome we would receive from those who, no 
 doubt, have long since mourned for us as dead, 
 
 307 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Disappointed and Despondent—Hope and Fear 
 —More Dead—Rumors of Parole—Sick and 
 Sad—Bright Anticipations—Paroling Begins 
 —Our Johnnie Paroled—Bound for Dear 
 Freedom's Land—“Good-bye Confederacy !”— 
 Railroad Accident—A Desolate Region- 
 Friends in Sight—The Loyal Blue and the 
 Old Flag—A Striking Contrast—Hot Blood'— 
 Freedom! 
 
 February 27th. This morning brings sadness 
 to the prisoners. The usual quantity and qual¬ 
 ity of dodger was issued to us, and at the same 
 time we received the information that the parol¬ 
 ing could not proceed until to-morrow owing to 
 the failure of the paroling officer to reach here. 
 He was due to be here this morning, but had not 
 arrived, and no word had been received from 
 him. It was thought certain he would arrive 
 some time to-day. They have pledged us their 
 honor that we shall be paroled from this place 
 just as soon as possible. Honor, indeed! That 
 the great body of Salisbury prisoners have very 
 
 308 
 
little faith in the honor of the Southern chivalry 
 
 v 
 
 might well be understood from the mutterings 
 of distrust and fear heard on every hand. Many 
 are of the belief that it is only a ruse to allay 
 our fears and keep us quiet, while they push us 
 on to another prison pen. Some are aroused to 
 deep anger and are intimating the attempt at 
 another outbreak if their fears should be real¬ 
 ized. Others are s ( ad, weary and despondent, 
 and almost ready to give up and die. Is it not 
 strange that men situated as we are, starved, 
 sick and worn out, can stand so much mental 
 and physical sniftering? The day is chilly and 
 dreary, but fortunately for us there is plenty of 
 wood here and good, brisk fires are kept burn¬ 
 ing, which brings comfort and warmth to our 
 bodies. 
 
 February 28th. This morning the sun looks 
 cheerful, and as the weather is much more pleas¬ 
 ant than it was yesterday, the spirits and hopes 
 of the prisoners were greatly revived. We were 
 on the road to a day of happiness, but when our 
 rations were issued, the commanding officer, 
 read a letter purporting to have been written 
 by the paroling officer, to the effect that he 
 would be here on the noon train and paroling 
 would begin as soon as possible. He requested 
 that all preliminary matters be attended to at 
 
 309 
 
once, so that the work of paroling might be car¬ 
 ried on as soon as he arrived. Notwithstanding 
 the seeming assurances of the letter, a good 
 many relapsed into a gloomy, discouraged state 
 of mind. 
 
 Quite a number of our poor boys answered to 
 roll call last evening for the last time. During 
 the night seven or eight died and were buried 
 this morning. The great wonder is that the 
 number of prisoners who, if they do not speedily 
 reach our lines where they can be properly cared 
 for, will not need to be paroled. The report has 
 reached camp that the paroling officer has 
 arrived and tents are being put up for the occa¬ 
 sion. This report was brought iu by a colored 
 man, and is corroborated by him, saying: 
 
 “Me help to stake the tents.” 
 
 The word of this colored man has more 
 weight with us than the “honah” of any rebel in 
 the Confederacy. While I have been very 
 despondent, Connely has been all aglow with 
 bright hopes. He says we are surrounded by 
 our own men and they have to parole us as there 
 is no place they can take us to but our own lines. 
 I feel I must die soon unless I get relief. The 
 “breakybone fever” is having a deep hold on me, 
 and it is only a question of a short time which 
 will conquer. David says: 
 
 310 
 
“Cheer up; there is a better time coming.!” 
 
 I hope it may speedily come. If it does not, 
 I am afraid I will not be here to greet it. 
 
 March 1st. This morning we were up early, 
 not from choice, but because we were so cold we 
 could not lie on the ground any longer. Several 
 tires were started in the camp, at one of which I 
 warmed myself. My condition is deplorable. 
 My stomach is empty of food, my knees and 
 ankles tortured with excruciating pain, my 
 whole body weak and feeble; but I hope soon to 
 be within our lines aud then farewell to rebel- 
 dom, hunger, misery; all hail to cheer, plenty, 
 friends and happiness! 
 
 Rations were issued to us as usual, after 
 which we were ordered to fall into line and 
 march to headquarters to sign our parole 
 papers. We marched to where 1 four or five bell 
 tents had been pitched, when an officer called 
 out: 
 
 “Here, some of you’uns come in here and 
 write out the parole papers for them!” 
 
 Connely insisted that I should go for one, 
 which would expedite matters;, and we would 
 get away sooner, as they had informed us a 
 train was in waiting to convey us to our lines as 
 soon as the work of paroling w T as completed. I 
 reluctantly consented to act as Secretary pro 
 
 311 
 
inn for the bogus, and now nearly defunct, Con¬ 
 federacy. All tlie parole papers were written 
 by our men. Why, I know not, unless it was 
 because they did not have men who knew 
 enough to write their names. I worked hard, 
 hoping we would get done by noon so we could 
 get out of here, but it was a larger task than we 
 could complete in so short a time. Dave had 
 found our adopted Johnnie and brought him up 
 to sign his parole. He was paroled as “Jacob 
 Berry.” (Berry was my brother-in-law, a mem¬ 
 ber of my company, who was killed by the cars 
 near Joliet, Illinois*, in the fall of 1863, while 
 en-route for his home on a sick furlough.) He 
 seemed to breathe freer air after he had signed 
 his papers. One officer was stationed at each 
 tent and as fast as the men signed their names, 
 they were marched off to themselves, counted, 
 and kept separate until the work was all done, 
 which was not until late in the evening. Just 
 at dark all were marched to the depot and again 
 loaded on the train. This run was to be the last 
 and was to take us out of rebeldom, for which 
 we were truly thankful. Two of the men who 
 were on the same car with me died during the 
 night. It seemed so sad to witness the death 
 of these poor fellows just as they were on the 
 point of reaching home; but the suffering of 
 body and mind was more than the / could endure 
 
 312 
 
and two more victims of rebel cruelty were 
 added to the tremendous account they will have 
 to render to God. 
 
 We were “making haste” very slowly; the 
 road-bed being in such bad condition, it was 
 impossible to go at a decent rate of speed with¬ 
 out endangering the lives of all on the train. 
 In many places the speed did not much exceed 
 that of a good walker. Sometime between mid¬ 
 night and daylight the train parted, three cars 
 running back to the foot of the grade. The 
 engineer pulled the rest of the train fully two 
 miles before the mishap was discovered. The 
 three loose cars went down the grade at a rapid 
 speed and did not stop until they struck an 
 up-grade on the opposite way. Our engine 
 started after the cars and met them as they 
 were returning in our direction, they having run 
 up the grade a distance sufficient to impart 
 great momentum to them as they' came back. 
 Seeing that a rear-end collision was inevitable, 
 our engineer slowed down, and before he could 
 get started again, the “wild” cars were gaining 
 on us at a rapid rate. Our situation was any¬ 
 thing but pleasant. The engine was put to the 
 best speed possible, which did not exceed eight 
 miles an hour, when the cars struck us with tre¬ 
 mendous force, scattering us in every direction. 
 
 313 
 
Fortunately the only injury done was a severe 
 shaking up of the prisoners. 
 
 For many hours we had not seen a living 
 human being in the country through which we 
 were passing, and but few houses, all of which 
 seemed to be destitute. There were no towns 
 nor stations of any importance on the railroad. 
 The country was swampy, covered with heavy 
 pine timber, the only industry carried on being 
 the making of tar, rosin and turpentine. Pea¬ 
 nuts were raised by the farmers; and carted to 
 Wilmington whre they were sold. It was as 
 forlorn and desolate a region as I ever saw. 
 
 March 2nd. At the dawn of day we saw a 
 man on horseback whom we took to be a scout 
 or forager, but being so far away we could not 
 tell whether he was a Yank or a Johnnie. An 
 hour later we discovered four infantrymen out 
 foraging. They were carrying something on 
 their backs, but we could not tell what it was. 
 
 However, we could make out their blue uni¬ 
 forms quite plainly, which convinced us we were 
 nearing our lines. Hope took on new life, and 
 the joy of the famished, half-starved prisoners 
 was expressed by cheers. About 7 o’clock A. 
 M., our train stopped and gave a loud, shrill 
 whistle. We were sure this meant something 
 of importance. By looking forward a mile 
 
 314 
 
ahead of us we could see rifle-pits running at 
 right angles with the track. We could also see 
 the bright guns of the guards flash in the sun¬ 
 light as they paced to and fro, but they were too 
 far away for us to distinguish whether they were 
 friends or foes. The suspense we were under 
 going was terrible. It was evident front the 
 conduct of our guards that we were near the 
 place where the other fellows had the guns and 
 were in power, and their reign was at an end. 
 A little dandy of a Captain who seemed to be 
 in command since we left Goldsborough, walked 
 from the rear of the train to the front. As he 
 passed we could see that liis face tvas pale and 
 his eyes shone as if he was in a state of excite¬ 
 ment. When he had reached the forward part 
 of the train he called to the guards in a squeak¬ 
 ing voice: 
 
 “Here, you fellers, thar, git down heah and 
 form a line!” 
 
 They obeyed the order, but evidently intended 
 to take their own time in doing it. They hud¬ 
 dled together more like a flock of sheep than a 
 detachment of soldiers. We took in the situa¬ 
 tion immediately. The line we saw in our front 
 was the outworks of our glorious army, and the 
 cowardly guards were not certain that even a 
 flag of truce would save them from the punish¬ 
 ment their crimes so richly deserved. They 
 
 815 
 
were scared out of their senses when brought 
 face to face with Union soldiers who had guns 
 that would shoot. The contemptible, cowardly 
 wretches! There was a vast difference between 
 walking their beats on the platform around Sal 
 isbury stockade, and deliberately, and with mur¬ 
 der intent, shooting down poor, helpless prison¬ 
 ers, and standing face to face with the comrades 
 of these murdered men, who, if the word had 
 been said, would have revenged the death of their 
 comrades. But they were under a flag of truce, 
 and Union soldiers knew how to honor and 
 respect it. Would they have done as much 
 under the same circumstances? T doubt it. 
 
 Our engine gave a loud, long and shrill 
 whistle, and then the train moved along so close 
 to our line that we could see the grand, loyal 
 blue that clothed the line in our front, while a 
 little to the westward we could see the glorious 
 Flag, the stars and stripes, the emblem of free¬ 
 dom, and whose stars* never flashed so brightly, 
 and whose waving never seemed so majestic, as 
 it did this moment. It seemed to me the world 
 could not produce the equal of the men whom 
 our eager eyes were looking at. Well-formed, 
 stalwart, robust, healthy, well-clothed and well- 
 fed— : a striking contrast to the scrawny, vilb'an 
 visaged, diminutive clay-eaters and white trash 
 who had looked down upon us from their sentry 
 
 316 
 
boxes at Salisbury Prison. We could now see 
 the white flags on the front and the sides of our 
 engine, and a group of our men were standing 
 on the railroad track in our front, and we knew 
 we were on the inner tlireshhold of our land of 
 freedom. I sprang off the car, forgetting all 
 about the pains in my ankles and knees. Soon 
 others did likewise, and then the “getting off” 
 became general. Presently the little dandy 
 Captain looked back, and motioning to us said 
 in that old, hateful and brutal tone of voice: 
 
 “Git back on that call, dah!” 
 
 An hour before this time I would have obeyed 
 that order instantly, knowing if I did not a but- 
 let from a murderous rebel's gun would be sent 
 straight at me; but now I felt I was once more 
 a free man, with all the rights, liberties and dig¬ 
 nity of a Union soldier under the protection of 
 the old Flag, and in the presence of comrades 
 loyal and true, who had guns and who knew 
 how to handle them. I looked the “tar-heel” 
 Captain in the face, and with all the vehemence 
 I could possibly throw into my voice, said to 
 him: 
 
 “You go to h—11, you white-livered son *of a 
 b—h; your day of authority is passed. When 1 
 get some meat on my bones I hope Fli meet 
 some of your tribe on equal grounds, and we 
 will talk this matter over!” 
 
 317 
 
He passed by me and never opened his mouth. 
 His day of shooting was over; the end of his 
 reign was reached. Descending from the cars, 
 wepasfsed'thr ough our lines, a Rebel and a Union 
 clerk checking us off and counting us as we 
 passed through. 
 
 318 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 A Thrilling Scene—Generous Comrades—Wel¬ 
 come Address—The March to Wilmington— 
 The Dear Old Flag—Weeping Comrades— 
 Grub, and Plenty of It—-A Great Feast — 
 Drunk on Coffee—A Good Sleep—Easy Slro?s 
 —Farewell to Our Adopted Johnnie—Our 
 First Night’s Sleep Under the Flag—A Glad 
 Awakening—Sad Sights'—Plenty vs. Starva¬ 
 tion—An Invitation to Dinner- -Drawing 
 Rations—Force of Habit—On Board Ship. 
 
 March 2nd, Continued. I wish I had the 
 power to carry my readers back to the moment 
 and place described in the last chapter. I would 
 show them a scene which lies beyond the power 
 of mortal man to describe; it must have been 
 seen to be appreciated. The point of our lines 
 first reached was North-East River, a few miles 
 from Wilmington. The outer works were held 
 by colored troops who were true to the trust 
 reposed in them. All the men who were off duty 
 crowded around us and lavished unstinted kind¬ 
 ness on us. They gave us blankets, shirts, 
 
 319 
 
.shoes, pantaloons and other articles we stood so 
 much in need of. They were placed here with 
 only three days’ rations, and now they had given 
 all to us, And seemed sorry that they did not 
 have more to give. The sick men were carried 
 by willing, tender hands to comfortable beds of 
 leaves and blankets. A great number of huge 
 and generous fires were made, and we were 
 given ample room to stand around them and 
 warm our cold bodies. All who were able to 
 walk were ordered into line to march to Wil¬ 
 mington. At this time a Lieutenant, or Cap¬ 
 tain, I have forgotten which, stepped ,to the 
 front and made us a short address of welcome 
 to cheer us up and encourage us to march to the 
 city,/Where, he said, rations were being prepared 
 for us, promising us all ,we could eat, and the 
 best the land afforded. He told us that after we 
 had reached Wilmington our hardships would 
 be ended, and a generous Government would 
 remember our loyalty to the Flag, enduring the 
 suffering we did rather than join the rebel 
 army. He spoke very feelingly and lovingly of 
 the poor, famished comrades who could not 
 resist the temptations held out to them by the 
 rebel authorities, and goaded by the desperation 
 of hunger, were led away to join the rebel army. 
 
 Those who were able to stand marched to the 
 city, where, within a mile of headquarters, the 
 
 320 
 
old Flag was proudly waving to welcome us 
 home. At the sight of the Flag a great shout 
 swept along the line: 
 
 “Our Flag is there!” 
 
 Thep a hurrah went up which told how glad 
 we were to see that Banner for whose defense 
 we had suffered so much. All shouted and cried, 
 and cried and shouted, until nature could do no 
 more. The climax was reached when we drew 
 near to headquarters and saw that poles had 
 been ,erected' on each side of the road which 
 were wreathed in evergreens, and a banner 
 drawn across the road from pole to pole, on 
 which was inscribed, in large gilt letters, these 
 words!: 
 
 “We welcome you home, our brothers!” 
 
 It was intended that we should march under 
 this banner while a brass band was standing at 
 its base playing “Home, Sweet Home.” This 
 was more than we could bear. The sight of the 
 Flag, the cordial welcome extended to us, the 
 touching (Strains of the dear old song, unmanned 
 us. Men fell down by the side of the road and 
 wept like children—wept tears of joy; joy that 
 could be expressed only by tears. The band 
 had to cease playing before the column could 
 be induced to move forward. Then the men 
 rose to their feet, east their eyes up to the ban¬ 
 ner, when another outburst of joyous tears was 
 
 321 
 
indulged in. I noticed old veterans who had 
 been accustomed to* scenes of sadness on many 
 a hard-fought battle field, and could look upon 
 them apparently unmoved, who, as they looked 
 upon our emaciated and naked bodies, and into 
 the faces which bore the evidences of extreme 
 suffering from starvation, sickness and cruelty, 
 wept tears of sorrow, showing that their great,' 
 true, loyal hearts sympathized with ns and were 
 ready to do us any service that was in their 
 power. It was now high noon, and we had 
 been fasting since early yesterday morning. We 
 soon gathered up strength and marched to the 
 headquarters of the Commissary, where we were 
 bountifully supplied with good, genuine army 
 coffee and plenty of sugar, meat, onions, soft 
 bread and “hard tack.” If a prisoner looked 
 wishfully for more, after lie had eaten his first 
 supply, more was at once handed to him, the 
 Commissary Sargeant saying: 
 
 “Here, my friend, is plenty of it; take all yon 
 can carry.” 
 
 So it was with everything, and it was hard 
 for us to believe it. We had been undergoing 
 the starving process so long that it was difficult 
 for us to understand that there was enough of 
 anything anywhere to satisfy our appetites. 
 Connely and I hungered for coffee, t-hei long- 
 talked of, much-wished for, good, old army 
 
 322 
 
/ 
 
 coffee. We drank of it until we were filled, and 
 still its delicious fragrance filled tlie air and 
 intoxicated our senses. I drank so much of it 
 that I was positively and helplessly drunk, and 
 many others were in the same condition. When 
 the Post physician was notified of the state 
 we were in, he ordered watches to be placed 
 over us to keep us from over-eating, or serious 
 results would follow. Ambulances were sent 
 out from Wilmington to get the prisoners who 
 were not able to travel; they were brought in 
 and tenderly cared for. Two poor fellows who 
 died on the train last night were also brought 
 in and buried under the Flag, with all the 
 honors due to true soldiers. How often, as men 
 have died in the prison, they have said their 
 only regret was that they would have to lie in 
 southern soil. If they could only be buried 
 under the shadow of the Stars and Stripes 
 death would have no sting for them. 
 
 During the afternoon we were surrounded by 
 the old soldiers, who would sit and listen to our 
 stories of grief and woe as long as they could 
 induce the prisoners to talk; and many and 
 many a cheek was wet with tears as the awful 
 truth was told them, or, at least, as we tried to 
 tell it. We were now in need of sleep, as we 
 had little or none on the route here. My stom¬ 
 ach being satisfied for the first time since that 
 
 328 
 
eventful day when I was captured, October, 
 1864, I began to feel I must have some rest and 
 sleep. While I was looking for a place to lie 
 down, a comrade of a Pennsylvania regiment 
 told me to come with Mm and he would find a 
 bed for me. He took me ; to his own quarters, 
 gave me his own bunk, arranged a good, com¬ 
 fortable bed for me, on which I lay down and 
 had a good sleep. When I awoke it was nearly 
 night. I felt refreshed, bodily and mentally, 
 but my ankles and knees still suffered the tor¬ 
 turing agony of the terrible breakybone fever. 
 Mv feet also were very sore, my old boots being 
 so loose they chafed my feet, and made them 
 yerv painful. I had pulled them off to ease my 
 feet, when a comrade came to me, looked at my 
 feet, and told me not to put the old boots on 
 again, but wait until he returned. While he 
 was telling me this, the big tears stood in his 
 generous eyes. He soon returned with a pair of 
 good, easy shoes and a pair of nice socks.. He 
 requested me to. try them on and if they fitted 
 to wear them. I obeyed his request, found them 
 just the fit, and, wore them, with comfort to my 
 feet and joy to my soul. God bless that gener¬ 
 ous comrade! 
 
 I went out in search of Oonnely, and while 
 looking for him, I met our adopted Johnnie, who 
 was glad to see me, telling me he was going to 
 
 324 
 
New York on the first boat he could get away 
 on, and probably would never see us again. He 
 expressed his gratitude to us for the great, inter¬ 
 est we had taken in him in securing for him his 
 liberty. I took his name, but before I could 
 copy it in my journal, I lost, the paper, and thus 
 all trace of him has passed from me. If this 
 book should come to his notice, I would be 
 delighted to hear from him. I found Connely 
 and J. W. Jennings, of Company “E,” preparing 
 supper. After eating a hearty meal, we began 
 to look for a place to ,rest for the night, which 
 we found under a porch near the wharf, where 
 we fixed a, comfortable bed, and there we three 
 lay down together, with the echos ef the music 
 of the band still ringing in our ears'—“Home, 
 Sweet Home!” When we awoke in the morning 
 I was dazed and bewildered. I could not for a 
 moment realize that the events through which 1 
 had passed, and for which I had so long prayed 
 and ,hoped, were indeed realities. I feared I was 
 passing through one of those awful, tantalizing 
 dreams that had hauted me during my hours of 
 sleep in prison; dreams in which all the happi¬ 
 ness and freedom of home would appear to me 
 so vividly, only to be followed by a wretched, 
 tormenting awakening. But I soon became con¬ 
 scious of the joyful fact that this was no dream, 
 but a glorious reality. 
 
 325 
 
To many who came out of Salisbury Prison 
 with us, and endured the great fatigue and 
 suffering of the march and weary transporta¬ 
 tion to our lines, the beams v of the rising sun 
 brought: no gladness, because during the night 
 the “weary wheels of life had ceased to move,” 
 and their eves were forever closed to all eartlilv 
 
 4/' 9s 
 
 scenes, whether of joy or sorrow. The dead lay 
 with teeth showing through parted lips, their 
 faces bearing evidences of the awful suffering 
 through which they had passed; the rotting feet 
 and limbs; their almost fleshless hands clenched 
 in the last agonies of death, <all told a tale of 
 horror which chills the blood in one’s veins to 
 look upon. Their sad fate, dying within the 
 threshold of Freedom’s land—almost within 
 sight of home—seemed much more sad to me 
 than the fate of those who had died while yet in 
 the prison. Most of them were so near death 
 that it is very doubtful if they even realized 
 they were once more under the protection of the 
 Flag they had loved unto death. 
 
 Cj 9,' 
 
 Connely, Jennings and myself went to work 
 and prepared a breakfast fit for a king. We had 
 a large coffee-pot full of good, rich coffee, a pan 
 of well fried bacon, onions, soft bread and hard 
 tack. What a sudden transformation from the 
 customs of the “dining rooms” in Salisbury 
 Prison! Then and there, only one meal a day; 
 
 326 
 
sometimes, yes, many times, only one meal in 
 thirty-six and forty-eight hours, the menu con¬ 
 sisting of a small loaf of bread made out of 
 meal, into which was ground corn, cob, husk 
 and all, and that raised ( with lime. Now, three 
 full meals a day composed of the very best 
 Uncle Sam can provide; there it was, in any 
 quantity we wished to , take it. We were 
 informed that sometime during the day boats 
 would be at the dock to> take us to Annapolis, 
 from which place we would receive furloughs al¬ 
 lowing usi to go home. Who can describe our 
 emotions as this glad news fell on our ears? As 
 mv feet were so sore I was not able to walk 
 around very much, and being eager to get home 
 as soon as possible to obtain the medical treat¬ 
 ment and nursing I needed so much, I did not 
 feel like taking as much interest in my present 
 surroundings as some others. A comrade of an 
 Indiana regiment invited me to go with him to 
 his qua rt ers for di n ner. H is name was William 
 Lucas. I accepted the invitation, and on our 
 way to his quarters, we passed by the Commis¬ 
 sary headquarters. Just in front of it was a 
 platform scale used for weighing rations. I 
 stepped on the scales and was weighed, and I 
 tipped the beam at eighty-seven and a half 
 pounds. This fell a good deal short of my fight¬ 
 ing weight. One week before I was captured 1 
 
 327 
 
weiged 181 pounds, ,that in some way or other 
 I had left 94^ pounds of myself divided between 
 Libby and Salisbury Prisons. If these rem¬ 
 nants, wherever they may be floating about, will 
 only haunt and trouble the wretches whose 
 treatment took them away from me, I will not 
 regret the decrease in ^weight. Comrade Lucas’s 
 mess was composed of four big-hearted and 
 robust-looking soldiers. I was introduced to 
 the mess, received a warm welcome, and was 
 made as comfortable as possible. In a remark¬ 
 ably short time a dinner was prepared which 
 seemed to me to be inexcusably extravagant. 
 One of the mess had visited the sutler’s tent and 
 returned with canned fruits, sauce and jellies. 
 
 Besides these luxuries, we had fresh fish (not 
 
 ✓ 
 
 the kind we had at Salisbury), soft bread, good 
 coffee with plenty of sugar, and in fact every¬ 
 thing the market afforded was spread before me 
 at that dinner. And what a dinner I did eat! 
 The contrast was so great and tempting 1 could 
 not resist. If this thing keeps up much longer 
 1 will degenerate into a child of luxury, aud 
 will have to ask to be sent back to my old 
 quarters and fare at Salisbury in order to learn 
 abstemiousness and humility. However, I’ll try 
 it awhile longer. It is good as far as I have 
 gone. What queer fellows these soldiers are! 
 I do believe they would have killed me by 
 
 328 
 
urg in of me to “eat more!” Their enjoyment was 
 as great at seeng me eat as mine was to be per¬ 
 mitted to eat ,tlie good things their whole-souled 
 generosity had provided for me. 
 
 About 3 o’clock in the afternoon we were 
 ordered to fall in and draw rations. This was 
 a bewildering order to us, as we had formed the 
 habit of drawing rations only once a day—some¬ 
 times once in two or three days—and only one 
 small loaf then. We fell into ranks and 
 marched to a group of Commissary Sergeants 
 who dtealt to each! prisoner food 1 to last him three 
 days. One Sergeant handed to each man a loaf 
 of soft bread and two days’ rations of hard tack; 
 another handed out rations of coffee; another a 
 large slice of bacon; another a handful of sugar, 
 and 1 last of all came onions and pickles in pro¬ 
 fusion. We have been inside our lines only 
 twenty-eight hours, have had four good, full 
 meals, and now are loaded down with rations to 
 supply our needs, during the three days it will 
 take us to> reach Annapolis. This is undreamed 
 of luxury. Our expectations are more than real¬ 
 ized. 
 
 Some of the prisoners had befcome so accust¬ 
 omed to trading rations while in the prison pen 
 that a habit had been formed which could not be 
 broken off all at once. And so the old time bar¬ 
 tering began. Some traded meat for coffee; 
 
 329 
 
others traded onions and pickles, for tobacco. 
 We had a good laugh at them, telling them they 
 were not in prison now; that there was plenty 
 here, and Uncle Sam was shipping supplies in 
 as fast as we could use them. 
 
 It was sundown when we marched to the 
 wharf and boarded a large steamship named 
 “Sunshine.” How appropriate the name—to 
 us! It did bring “sunshine” to our poor, weary 
 hearts; something we have known very little of 
 during many long months. Wilmington is 
 thirty-five miles from the sea. For that dis¬ 
 tance the river is calm and flows through the 
 most beautiful scenery. At the mouth of the 
 river are Forts Fisher and Casewell, the strong 
 est sea-coast forts in the Confederacy. When 
 we reached the mouth of the river, our vessel 
 anchored for the night. 
 
 330 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 On the Rolling Sea—A Beautiful Morning—A 
 Change in Feeling—Xo Time for Sentiment— 
 Sea Sick—In Danger—'“Water Good to Settle 
 Mad Bees”—Annapolis—Cleansed and Made 
 Clean—Delightful Experiences—Benton Bar¬ 
 ra cksr—Plenty, but Can’t Eat—Sick—An Egg 
 Episode 1 —Submission and Reconciliation— 
 Pay and Furlough. 
 
 March 3rd. Never did the sun appear to 
 shine so brightly as when he arose this morning 
 and poured his resplendent light on land and on 
 sea. Our ship weighed anchor and we were 
 soon tossing on the wide, open sea. In a little 
 while we were out of sight of land, and as the 
 boys remarked, “ we could see no more of the 
 Confederacy.” The rolling of the vessel, the 
 enchanting sights, and the novelty of our sur¬ 
 roundings served to' make this one of the most 
 memorable mornings of my life. I was now 
 beginning a new life, and it was about to begin 
 in dead earnest. I was leaning over the bul¬ 
 warks of the steamer, thinking of the awful 
 
 331 
 
monotony of prison life, and contemplating the 
 majesty of the deep, when all at once I felt as 
 though a one hundred pound ■shell had exploded 
 in my stomach. The beautiful scenery, the 
 majesty of the ocean, the graceful sweep and 
 poise of the sea-gulls, the glinting of the sun¬ 
 light on the choppy waves, had no more enchant¬ 
 ment for me, I had other business on hand and 
 I must attend to it at once. I turned to go 
 below when my eyes fell on the most affecting 
 and wretched sight I ever beheld. Every man 
 in sight was paying penalty for having indulged 
 too freely in Uncle Sam’s hospitality at Wil¬ 
 mington. Every one was calling out, “New 
 York!” as if that famous' city was the next sta¬ 
 tion and near at hand. The sight was so over¬ 
 powering to my feeling that I rushed to the rail¬ 
 ing and gave into the bosom of old ocean all the 
 commissary stores I had accumulated since 1 
 arrived insJide Uncle Sands domains. I vomited 
 until I was as empty as a Salisbury Prison meal 
 sack. There was a vacuum within me that 
 extended clear to my toes, and was clamoring 
 for more territory. I feared that with every 
 overthrow, or upthrow, or output, I would 
 bring up my new shoes, and part company with 
 my comfort-giving socks. I started below, 
 thinking I would lie down amidships hoping to 
 allay the terrible struggle going on in my 
 
 332 
 
stomach. I descended four or five steps of the 
 ladder, when a perfume arose and greeted me 
 which was strong enough to spoil a “limburger 
 'cheese.” I stepped back for fresh air, and con¬ 
 cluded to try it again. Reaching the foot of the 
 ladder I could not help thinking of our camp- 
 cry, and yelled out: 
 
 “Here’s your mule!” 
 
 This was beyond human endurance. They 
 were as mad as they were sick, and were only 
 waiting for a good opportunity to explode their 
 wrath. My innocent “war-whoop” furnished 
 the opportunity, and they were not slow to seize 
 it. So they began to get up on all sides, curse, 
 shake their fists at me, and threaten to wreak 
 dire vengeance on me, winding up their ferocity 
 by yelling: 
 
 “You get out of here or we will knock the 
 head off of you!” 
 
 Not knowing what men in such desperate con¬ 
 ditions might be led to do, especially as every 
 fellow was trying to give liis “mule” away to 
 some other fellow, I considered that discretion 
 was the better part of valor, and retreated in 
 haste—but in good order. Reaching the deck 
 again I now began to join in the universal call, 
 “New York! New York!” The sailors were 
 now washing off the decks, and having accom 
 plis'hed that feat, started to go below with the 
 
 333 
 
hose and brooms to wash out the lower regions 
 from which I had to make such a hasty exit. 
 Miserable a’S I felt, I could not keep from laugh¬ 
 ing when I saw them go down the ladder, and 
 expecting to see some fun I concluded to follow 
 them. As soon as they reached the foot of the 
 ladder the hoseman turned on the water, throw¬ 
 ing it in every direction. This met with a vol¬ 
 ley of curses from every quarter, but the curses 
 did not intimidate the hoseman. He threw 
 water all over the men, saying: 
 
 “When bees gets mad, the way to settle them 
 is to throw water on them.” 
 
 It is safe to say the plan worked well in this 
 case also. 
 
 Annapolis, Maryland, March 6th, 1865. 
 
 Since making my last entry I have been so 
 sea-sick I could not write. We reached Annap¬ 
 olis yesterday morning. Nothing of importance 
 transpired on our trip; any more than we were 
 the worst sea-sick crew that ever landed at an 
 Annapolis wharf. 
 
 When we reached our lines a few days ago 
 our stomachs 1 were empty and in bad condition. 
 Then when we were taken into the midst of a 
 super abundant plenty, with hands on every side 
 only too willing to hand it out to us, we were 
 not strong enough to resist the temptation to 
 
 334 
 
overload our stomachs. Hence, we were good 
 sxibjects to bestow rich libations on the shrine 
 of the god Neptune. And we did it handsomely, 
 lavishly. We will never do it again. 
 
 We were marched to the barracks where 
 breakfast was furnished us. We were then 
 drawn up in line and every man was required to 
 give his name, company and regiment. After 
 this, each man was furnished with a complete 
 suit of clothes, consisting of blouse, pants, over¬ 
 coat, blanket, two shirts, two pairs of drawers, 
 two pairs of socks, a pair of shoes, and a regula¬ 
 tion hat, after which we were conducted to the 
 bath house. At this point I got leave of absence 
 long enough to go across the street to an artist’s 
 studio where I had my picture taken, minus 
 my old prison garb. Many other prisoners did 
 likewise. On returning to the bath house, we 
 were stripped naked, our old clothing being 
 thrown into a pile at the rear of the building. 
 While I was stripping, my pieces of tent, con¬ 
 taining all my valuables, went with the rest. 
 Against this spoliation of my treasures I pro¬ 
 tested, and, naked though I was, I made a 
 spring for the pile, crawled on top of rags and 
 graybacks, secured my valuables, threw the 
 pieces of tent away, returned and deposited my 
 valuables with an attendant until I called for 
 them. I was requested to sit down on a stool, 
 
 385 
 
336 
 
when a barber came and shaved my head as 
 closely as only an expert could do it. Then we 
 were conducted to the bath tubs, into which we 
 went and were rubbed and ’scrubbed by two 
 strong men. In a few moments every vestige 
 of prison grime was removed from our bodies, 
 enough to be subject for taxation in God’s coun¬ 
 try. We were then passed on to two other men 
 who, with coarse towels, wiped us dry. We 
 then passed into another room where we put on 
 our new clothes and came out full-fledged 
 Yankees. Everything here is reduced to a per¬ 
 fect system. During all the process of our 
 cleansing, not a word was spoken. So rapidly 
 was the work done, that in ten minutes from the 
 time we went into the bath room, covered with 
 rags, dirt and graybacks, and with a matted 
 shock of hair on our heads, we marched out 
 clean and newly clothed in Uncle Sam’s best 
 brand of clothing. We began to feel that we 
 were really men once more. We were next 
 marched to the barracks where each man regis¬ 
 tered his name, rank, company, regiment, where 
 and when captured, where and when released. 
 Then we were paid at the rate of twenty-five 
 cents a day for rations while we were in prison. 
 This done in order that we might have money 
 to provide ourselves with such necessaries as we 
 needed. Uncle Sam was very kind to his boys. 
 
 337 
 
The offic ers did everything for our comfort it 
 was possible for them to do. A brass band fur¬ 
 nished delightful music every morning and 
 evening. All we had to do was to enjoy the 
 good things and good cheer that were provided 
 for us, and this we were^ doing with grateful 
 
 hearts. 
 
 ^ / 
 
 As night approached, Connely and I found a 
 bunk filled with straw on which we spread our 
 blankets, undressed and went to bed like human 
 beings, a thing we had not been able to do for 
 many months. How changed our sleeping as 
 well as our waking conditions! Clean blankets; 
 no vermin to eat into our bodies, and torment 
 our rest; no 1 fear of being shot by cruel guards; 
 no tantalizing dreams to disturb our slumbers. 
 I believe this was the best night’s sleep I ever 
 enjoyed up to that time. On awakening in the 
 morning, we talked of the contrast of our sur¬ 
 roundings now and those of one week ago. Now, 
 clean clothes, plenty to eat, and that of the best 
 this fair land could afford, a land where twenty- 
 five cents in greenbacks would buy more than 
 twenty-five dollars in grayback scrip. Surely 
 our happiness was complete! What more 
 could we want? Yes, dear reader, do not con¬ 
 sider us selfish, ungrateful beings if I say there 
 was one thing more we wanted—home and loved 
 ones. And! we were going to both. 
 
 388 
 
Benton Barracks, St, Louis, Mo., 
 
 March 13th, 1865. 
 
 We reached this place last evening, coming 
 via Baltimore, Columbus, and Indianapolis—a 
 long and tedious trip. Owing to our extreme 
 weakness we did not enjoy the trip. We have 
 been industriously accumulating everything we 
 could reach in the shape of commissary stores, 
 and the rich dainties provided for us by the 
 Christian charity of the Sanitary Commission, 
 until our, stomachs now rebel against the accu¬ 
 mulation of anything more. Quite a number 
 of the boys left us at Columbus, Ohio, and India¬ 
 napolis, Indiana, these places being the distrib¬ 
 uting points of their respective commands. 
 Those remaining with us< being Iowa, Illinois 
 and Missouri troops, are to receive twot months 
 pay and be furloughed home from this place. A 
 large number are sick and in the hospital. We 
 are here reminded of the Irishman’s contrast 
 between a rich man’s stomach and a poor man’s 
 stomach. He said: 
 
 “The poor man has to find matte for his 
 stomach; t and the rich man has to furnish a 
 stomach for his mate.” 
 
 The good old hard tack, “sow-bosom,” and 
 army coffee are placed befotffc us in abundance, 
 but our stomachs rebel at sight of them. Our 
 
 339 
 
appetites have entirely failed us. To me, every¬ 
 thing eatable is loathsome, yet I am hungry all 
 the time. Home is now the only subject on 
 which my mind dwells; the days seem to be long 
 enough to be weeks. I can almost see my home 
 and the loved ones there. When I sleep I 
 dream of home only to awake with aching head 
 and burning fever, my stomach rolling as the 
 waves of the ocean, my limbs aching with the 
 excruciating pain of that terrible North Caro¬ 
 lina fever. 
 
 March 14th. I am burning up with fever, 
 and my legs refuse to carry my body. I stay in 
 my bunk to avoid seeing the doctor who has 
 ordered me to be taken to the hospital. He 
 gave nre some medicine of which I took one dose 
 and threw the rest away. Dave Connely soaked 
 some crackers and fried them, hoping to tempt 
 my appetite. This was once a very favorite 
 dish of mine, but now the sight of it is sickening. 
 I can’t eat anything. I drink a little coffee but 
 it tastes as bitter as quinine. My strength is 
 failing instead of increasing. I passed the day 
 in bed, bathing my forehead with cold water, 
 which, at times, gave me some relief from the 
 headache; but it would soon return again with 
 greater force. 
 
 March 15th. My fever has abated somewhat, 
 but I have no appetite to eat. I bought half a 
 
 340 
 
dozen eggs from a peddler, for which 1 paid 
 twenty-five cents, and considered them very 
 cheap. I was getting ready to fry them when 
 Connely came in and said to me: 
 
 “See here, Boosy, you must not eat them. 
 They are the worst things you can eat.” 
 
 However, I made up my mind I would eat 
 them, let, the result be what it would. When 
 he saw I was not going to be persuaded to desist 
 he told me firmly I should not eat them. I was 
 as rebellious as my stomach, and broke them in 
 a frying-pan, and put them on the fire to cook. 
 
 - He stood by watching me, and as I turned to get 
 some salt, he gave the frying-pan a kick and its 
 contents went into the fire. 
 
 “There,” he said, “I told you you should not 
 eat them, you darn fool, you!” 
 
 My feelings may be better imagined than 
 described. It seemed to me while I was pre¬ 
 paring to fry them, they were the only food 1 
 cared for, and now they were a mass of ruins. 
 I was mad beyond expression. I took up the 
 frying-pan and threw it at him, and wished for 
 a club to follow it up. He dodged it, and, good- 
 natured fellow that he was, laughed at me, 
 which only served to* increase my wrath and 
 indignation. Then he said to me: 
 
 341 
 
“You could have ■saved that twenty-five cents 
 if you had minded me in the first place.” 
 
 He went to the post-suttler and bought me a 
 can of cove oysters and some tea. He made me 
 a good cup* of tea, which I relished. I ate a few 
 of the oysters, but they had a bad taste; indeed, 
 nothing would satisfy me but eggs. I began to 
 plead with him, and said: 
 
 “Dave, I know that if I had some soft-boiled 
 eggs they would be' good for me.” 
 
 He still insisted they were the worst things 1 
 could eat, and so I had to yield, but I did it 
 reluctantly, and still craved the eggs. The pay¬ 
 master came this afternoon and gave us two 
 months pay. We also received our furloughs 
 this evening. 
 
 Now our prison life is over, ah! 
 
 It is a pleasant thought; 
 
 And here we await our furloughs, 
 
 Ere again our homes are sought; 
 
 Farewell south, and all thy dead-lines, 
 
 Farewell traitors, robbers too, 
 
 Cherished friends of youth and childhood, 
 
 We are coming home to you. 
 
 And will not your smiles and welcomes 
 Half repay our griefs and cares 
 When once more you see us sitting 
 In the old, familiar chairs? 
 
 342 
 
But there’s One who reigns above us*— 
 We should give our thanks to Him 
 For the bright hopes in the bosom, 
 Where hope but languished dim. 
 
 For His- kind and loving Presence, 
 
 That at last we lived to stand 
 Free from prison-life in Dixie, 
 
 In our loved and loyal land, 
 
 Let us- pray for peace forever— 
 
 For the Union glad and free— 
 
 With a tear for comrades faithful, 
 Whom we never more shall see. 
 Ever trusting One above us, 
 
 Though the clouds may gather fast; 
 Knowing well our Father’s mansion, 
 Will receive us at the last. 
 
 343 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 We Leave Benton Barracks—Arrive at Iowa 
 City—Take a Conveyance for Home—Sick at 
 a Farm House—True Friendship—Connely 
 Reaches Home—A Night of Terrible Suffering 
 —Near Death’s Door—Wife and Home at 
 Last—Down in the Valley—Life Again— 
 Good-bye. 
 
 i 
 
 Lytle City, Iowa, December 20th, 1865. 
 
 I will now try and finish my account of my 
 prison life and home coming. I left Benton 
 Barracks, St. Louis, Missouri, March 15th, 1865, 
 and reached Iowa City, Iowa, March 18th. This 
 point wasi the nearest: railroad station to my 
 home. Dave Connely was with me. I had not 
 eaten a bite of food of any kind for two 1 days, so 
 that it; required all the effort I could put forth 
 to walk, assisted by a cane. Here we procured 
 a conveyance to take us to our homes, twenty- 
 five milesi distant. The roads Were very muddy 
 and our progress 1 slow. We started early Sun¬ 
 day morning, and when about fifteen miles on 
 our journey, we stopped at a farm house for din 
 ner—the name of the owner was Harrington. 
 
 344 
 
When we reached this place I was so weak and 
 sick I could scarcely hold up my head. I had a 
 very high fever, and was very hungry, anticipat¬ 
 ing the pleasure of being able to eat some food 
 at a farm house table. The kind lady had a 
 good dinner prepared, and tried to find some¬ 
 thing I could relish. When we sat down to the 
 table I thought it was such a grand dinner — 
 everything that could be desired was spread 
 before me. I was helped to a cup of tea, but the 
 sight of it wa*s repulsive. I could not touch it. 
 I next tried to eat some potatoes that were fried 
 brown and looked so tempting, but a rebellious 
 stomach would not receive them. Then 1 
 longed for a glass of milk, but Dave remon¬ 
 strated against my drinking it. I was going to 
 rebel against what I considered an unlawful 
 interference on his part, when the lady of the 
 house told me it would not be good for me. See¬ 
 ing nothing I desired to eat, or, rather, could eat, 
 I got up from the table and seated myself in a 
 large, easy, rocking chair, and being so weak 
 and tired, I soon fell asleep. I slept in that 
 position until the company left the table and 
 came into the room, which awakened me. My 
 stomach was in great pain; my head ached and 
 my knees and ankles' were throbbing with the 
 terrible fever pains. 
 
 345 
 
Here I was', only ten miles from home, i 
 could almost see it now, although I was so very 
 sick and feared I could not keep strength long 
 enough to reach it. My sufferings, mental and 
 physical, were beyond description. The driver 
 had his team ready to pursue his journey, but 
 my strength was gone — I was powerless to move. 
 I said to Dave: 
 
 “You go on home; tell my wife where I am, 
 and they will come after me. I cannot endure 
 the trip.” 
 
 “No,” said Dave, “1 have stayed with you from 
 the beginning, and I will not leave you now, 
 comrade.” 
 
 Such was the bond of friendship that bound 
 us together, that the noble fellow was willing 
 to make any sacrifice for me. He had endured 
 the trip better than I had. He had exercised 
 better judgment, and had greater control over 
 himself in the matter of eating than I had, 
 therefore he was in fair bodily condition. His 
 willingness to stay with and care for me when 
 we were so near home, reminded me of what he 
 had told me when we were first taken to the 
 rebel corral at Cedar Creek. He was taken 
 there before I was, and when I was brought in 
 he came to meet me, took me by the hand, and 
 said 
 
 846 
 
“I am sorry to see you here, but as I am here, 
 there is not a man in the company I would 
 rather see than you.” 
 
 We had often divided our last crust, with each 
 other. I, too, was sorry we were there, but as 
 it was so, I was glad to have him with me. I 
 am satisfied I never would have reached home 
 had he not been there to advise, cheer and help 
 me. And now, just as we stood on the thresh- 
 hold of our homes, he wanted to stay with and 
 care for me. I insisted that he should go on 
 home and tell my wife where I was, which would 
 be the best service he could render me. On the 
 assurance of Mr. Harrington that I would be 
 well cared for, he reluctantly left me. He 
 reached home about midnight and told his peo¬ 
 ple where I was. His home was only about a 
 half mile from mine. 
 
 After Connely left me 1 became delirious. 
 Typhoid pneumonia had a firm hold on me. The 
 kind lady of the house insisted that I should go 
 to bed, but I told her we had been covered with 
 graybacks, and although I had tried hard to 
 cleanse myself from them, there were a few 
 clinging to me yet, and I did not wish to take 
 them into her bedding. But she still insisted 
 that I go to bed, which I had to kindly, but 
 firmly, refuse. I spread my blanket on the car¬ 
 pet, and accepted the offer of a pillow which 
 
 347 
 
she brought to me. laid down but could not 
 sleep. At intervals I was delirious. About 2 
 o’clock a hard rain fell. It came down in tor 
 rents. I was suffering so much the people of 
 the house thought I would die before morning. 
 They called up their •son, a young man, anld 
 wanted him to go for a doctor who lived four 
 miles away. Against this I most earnestly 
 remonstrated, because the night was so dark, 
 and it was raining so hard. 1 told them 1 
 would be better soon. 
 
 About daylight my stomach pained me so 
 much I could not lie down. I got up and tried 
 to walk, but my legs could not bear the weight 
 of my body. The lady of the house made me 
 some herb tea which I drank as hot as I could 
 bear it, which eased the pain somewhat. 1 laid 
 down again and fell asleep. Being so weary 1 
 slept until about 10 o’clock, when some one 
 placed a hand on my shoulder and called me by 
 my name: 
 
 “Frank!” 
 
 This startled me, as I recognized the voice to 
 be that of my wife’s brother, William Berry. 1 
 got on my feet, took him by the hand, and asked 
 him where Sarah (my wife), was. 
 
 “She is here,” said he; “we have come after- 
 yon, and have a bed in the wagon.” 
 
 348 
 
T started out to see her, and to my •surprise it 
 was still raining. I went out to the wagon, 
 shook hands with my wife, then went back and 
 got my blanket, and started for home again. 1 
 was placed in the bed 1 , and covered over with 
 rubber blankets to keep me dry. It rained all 
 the time we were on the journey. We reached 
 home in the evening. I became delirious, and 
 about 10 o’clock that night the family phydc’an 
 was called in to see me. Typhoid pneumonia 
 had such a firm hold on me that for four weeks 
 I was in an even balance between life and 
 death. For three weeks of the time I was 
 unconscious, and at no time could I recognize 
 my wife, who was in constant attendance at my 
 bedside. It was only by •such nursing as a lov¬ 
 ing, devoted wife could give, aided bv a Merci¬ 
 ful Father in Heaven, that my feeble life was 
 kept from going out in the silence of death, and 
 that I have lived to pen this true, unvarnished 
 history of my life in, and my release from Salis¬ 
 bury Prison. 
 
 Out of the jaws of death, 
 
 Out of the mouth of hell. 
 
 • _ ... . i 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 I will here close the accounts of the suffer¬ 
 ings of the brave and noble boys who uncom¬ 
 plainingly endured the hardships of southern 
 
 349 
 
prison pens to perpetuate and maintain the 
 national honor and integrity of our fair land. 
 The 13,715 Union dead at Andersonville, 
 Georgia ; 7,000 grave® at Belle Isle, 6,00 Union 
 dead at Florence, South Carolina, and the 
 12,137 graves at Salisbury, North Carolina, 
 prison pen (which only existed during the last 
 
 year of the war), who preferred to fill honored 
 graves rather than surrender their loyalty and 
 devotion to country and flag. 
 
 These figures are startling facts that cannot 
 be realized by those who were babes and those 
 who have been born since those dark davs. It 
 It will not be surprising if these facts are 
 assailed. But for all such I am fortified by 
 facts from hundreds of survivors of those scenes 
 and who are still living witnesses of this 
 history, as will be seen by a few letters found in 
 the following appendix. 
 
 When I look back over the dark days of the 
 ■rebellion, I do not wonder that historians have 
 shrunk from the unpleasant task of making up 
 the record, as it would make the darkest pages 
 of our country’s history, and remain a perpet¬ 
 ual and everlasting disgrace to American civil¬ 
 ization. 
 
 350 
 
Appendex. 
 
 Letter From Martin Burke, Esq., Superintend¬ 
 ent of) the National Cemetery at Salisbury, 
 North Carolina. 
 
 The following is a verbatim copy of a letter 
 1 received from Comrade Burke, giving import¬ 
 ant facts connected 5 with the past and the 
 present status of Salisbury Prison: 
 
 “National Cemetery, Salisbury, N.-C., June 1st, 
 1894. 
 
 Mr. B. F. Booth, Medford, Iowa: 
 
 Dear Sir: Your communication of the 28th 
 ult., was duly received, asking for a description 
 of the prison pen, etc. General Stoneman cap¬ 
 tured, and destroyed by burning, the stockade 
 and prison pen. The place is now covered with 
 houses and is called ‘South Brooklyn,’ but is a 
 part of the town of Salisbury. Having no pho¬ 
 tographs of this cemetery, I enclose you a 
 sketch, with correct figures as to length, angles, 
 etc. Graves, 437 and 18 trenches, where 11,700 
 Union soldiers, prisoners, are buried. Surface 
 
 351 
 
level. , The record shows thus: Known, 102; 
 unknown, 12,035; total interments, 12,137. Jacob 
 Miller, Go. ‘H, 7 22nd Iowa, is) among the 
 ‘unknown. 7 
 
 You can get a photo of the stockade as it 
 stood in 1864 from Hartranft Post, *G. A. Ik, 
 Oarlotte, North Carolina, where they are for 
 sale. Don 7 t know how the population stood in 
 1864; now it is nearly 6000—one-half of them 
 colored. On last Decoration Day the Hartranft 
 Post, 8 members, and 3,500 colored people, 
 observed ,the day here, and strewed flowers over 
 all the graves. Everything passed off quietly 
 and respectfully. Not one man (white) from 
 Salisbury town attended. The rebs have no 
 military cemetery in or around this vicinity as 
 I know of. This cemetery is just two blocks 
 directly west of the stockade, that was, and one 
 half mile from the railroad depot. No sign of a 
 stockade now exists, the whole place is laid out 
 into streets. You may remember the branch 
 which runs through the cemetery and south of 
 the stockade. Now it has the same course, as 
 you can see in the sketch. 
 
 The rebel commandant of the prison failed to 
 turn over any record of the prisoners, or the 
 deaths, at Salisbury Prison pen. We had to 
 open about fifty feet of each trench and count 
 the skulls or bodies, then measure the whole 
 
 352 
 
trench and made an estimate according to the 
 number found in proportion to the length of the 
 whole trench. It is supposed by the best of 
 authorities that 15,000, instead of 11,700 are 
 buried in the 18 trenches alone. 
 
 Wishing you the best possible success in your 
 undertaking, I am, Very respectfully 
 
 MARTIN BURKE, Superintendent. 
 
 LETTER FROM Mr. D. SHEEHAN, NILES, 
 
 MICHIGAN. 
 
 I am sure that the following letter received 
 from a comrade who was present and partici¬ 
 pated in the break for liberty described in chap¬ 
 ter 14, will be read with great interest by all 
 who wish to learn the true facts of that most 
 tragic event: 
 
 “Niles, Michigan, June 8, 1896. 
 
 B. F. Booth, Indianola, Iowa : 
 
 My Dear Comrade: Yours of June 1st at 
 hand. How I would like to meet you that I 
 might give you a greeting. I can see you now as 
 I look back to those fearful days when it tried 
 men’s- souls, and put their loyalty and patriot¬ 
 ism to a test. I was captured on 30tli Septem¬ 
 ber, 1864, at Pegram’s Farm, near Petersburg, 
 Virginia, in making attempt to cut, South Side 
 railroad, was sent in to the city, thence to Rich- 
 
 353 
 
monel, to the three-story brick opposite Libby 
 Prison; thence through Danville to Salisbury, 
 where we arrived somewhat against our will on 
 October 7th, being the first batch of Union pris¬ 
 oners there. I remember well the time, about 
 October 25th, when the men taken in the Shen¬ 
 andoah Valley were brought in, and how they 
 were robbed and abused by the cut-throat vand¬ 
 als in our ranks, and summary treatment we 
 gave them; and how they ran the gauntlet, and 
 then taken out and sent away. After this no 
 one robbed or abused our men but the rebels. 
 \ ou| also 1 think of the time when a number of 
 our men went out and joined the rebel army on 
 the promise of good treatment. I recollect the 
 day the mule was killed on the dead 
 wagon, by the guard and liow it was 
 stated that we had him for dinner the 
 next day. Now, as to the attempted out¬ 
 break on the25th November. It was started bv 
 
 «/ 
 
 the Sergeants who had charge of the squads. 
 They made their plans in the 2nd story of No. 
 14 building, and their names as near as I can 
 recollect, was as follows: McBride, 15tli U. S. 
 Infantry; McManus, of New York; Dunecliffe, 
 of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; Spillune, New 
 York Infantry; Sergeant Keys, 14th U. S. 
 Infantry, who deserted the English army and 
 joined ours'at Ogdensbuig, New York; Sergeant 
 
 354 
 
Mur ay, of Maryland regiment; Sergeant Car- 
 roll, 45 th Pennsylvania Infantry; Sullivan, of 
 2nd Massachusetts Cavalry, a very large man; 
 Sergeant Major, 27th Michigan Infantry, with 
 myself and others. We did it on the expectation 
 that the 67th North Carolina Infantry, made up 
 of young boys from 16 to 18 years, and wdio had 
 been guarding up for some time, and who shot 
 many of our men for the purpose of seeing them 
 fall, was gone. This regiment was ordered up 
 to* Warren, North Carolina, to oppose General 
 Warren, of the 5th CorpsjL, from making an 
 ad ranee on the State. We learned that they 
 were to go and a regiment of old men took their 
 place, and as soon as the boys left the station 
 the attack on the relief was to take place, which 
 was done about 3 o’clock P. M. When the relief 
 guard came into 1 the prison yard we drew tickets 
 from a hat, and on each ticket was marked the 
 part each sergeant was to> take, with the men 
 of their own selection. The 67th regiment was 
 on the train ready to leave, when the rising took 
 place, and they left the train and ran to the 
 prison yard, where they mounted the platform, 
 and shot with a vengeance, or ,as long as they 
 could see a man to shoot at. Keys, McBride 
 and Dunnecliffe led the assault on the rebel 
 guard, and of the sixteen men in the guard, fif¬ 
 teen were killed and about thirty wounded. I 
 
 355 
 
was surprised when looking oyer the list to find 
 that not one of the participants in that affair 
 was killed, the fatalities being among those who 
 knew nothing of it till after it started. We were 
 misinformed as to ,the leaving of the 67th 
 Infantry regiment. Had they gone, nothing 
 would have kept us in, as the old men were 
 panic stricken. The day after the rebels took 
 out several of the sergeants, among them the 
 Sergeant Major of the 27th Michigan, who wore 
 a Zouave uniform, and was very conspicuous on 
 that account. What was done with them we 
 did not learn.. 
 
 The tunnel was started in one of the tents and 
 its exit was to be under the large frame build¬ 
 ing near the yard, v I went into it one night 
 before it was finished, and was to be one who 
 was to go out when it was completed. On the 
 day we made ready to go the project was given 
 away to the rebels, and we gave up going, as it 
 was the rebels’ intention to surround the build¬ 
 ing, and when the prisoners made their appear¬ 
 ance to shoot every one. Davis and Brown, 
 paper reporters, whoi were there at the time 
 taking care of the sick, and who had the privi¬ 
 lege of going in and out, were told by an out¬ 
 sider of the discovery, and begged them to tell 
 the , prisoners and save their lives. Davis, 
 Brown and Richardson were to go out with us. 
 
 356 
 
No doubt you recollect these men. They, about 
 the 20th of December, made their escape, taking 
 the rebel ^officer of the day with them. In my 
 journey from prison to Strawberry Plains, Ten¬ 
 nessee, I traveled over nearly the same ground. 
 
 Now, as to my escape. On the 24th of Janu¬ 
 ary, , I, with several others, after several 
 attempts to get out of Salisbury Prison, with a 
 crowd that was taken out by a Catholic Priest 
 (the only clergymen who visited the prison to 
 console the sick and dying), to a camp three 
 miles west of Salisbury, named “Camp. York.” 
 On the night of the 25th Alexander Hays, 94th 
 New York; John Mahoney, 444tli New York; 
 James Sullivan, a resident pf East Tennessee, 
 who refused to enter the rebel army, and had 
 been! a prisoner for three years, and myself, 
 made our escape by climbing over ,the stockade. 
 I was lifted up by Mahoney reaching the top 
 and then pulling myself) over, and while hanging 
 over helped the rest to get up. A history from 
 this time until my arrival at Strawberry Plains, 
 would make a book of itself. After thirty-four 
 days of travel through the wilds of western 
 North Carolina, and east Tennessee, on the 
 morning of February 27th we beheld the bright 
 folds of our starry banner as it floated in the 
 breeze. Oh, Comrade, I cannot describe to yo y 
 my feelings at that moment. I fell o 
 
 357 
 
knees and thanked God for imy deliverance, as it 
 was out of the House of Bondage and the land 
 of Egypt. Let me hear from you again. Yours 
 truly. 
 
 D. SHEEHAN. r 
 
 A STRANGE DISCOVERY. 
 
 It will be remembered that in Chapter 24 I 
 mentioned the fact that while on the march 
 from Salisbury to Greensboro, some one stole 
 two ears of corn from me, and upraiding a cer¬ 
 tain comrade of my own regiment with the 
 theft. The following interesting incident clears 
 up the mystery, and shows that I was correct in 
 my suspicion of the guilty one: 
 
 While at a reunion of my regiment at Iowa 
 City, September 10 and 11, 1891, the man whom 
 I accused of stealing my corn came to me and, 
 calling me aside, told me he did steal the corn 
 from me that night, but that it was not wasted, 
 as I /declared. On the contrary it had saved his 
 life. He said he saw me put the corn under the 
 blanket, but did not see me put the sweet pota¬ 
 toes there, else lie would have taken them too, 
 as the temptation to get something to eat, being 
 nearly dead from starvation, was too great for 
 him to' resist. This was the r first time I had 
 heard of him since we left Annapolis, Mary¬ 
 land; I supposed he was dead. My readers may 
 be sure we had a good hearty handshaking over 
 
 358 
 
if, my feelings at that time being* far different 
 to what they were the night I lost my corn- 
 coffee; 
 
 FROM THE YOUNGEST PRISONER IN SAL¬ 
 ISBURY. 
 
 I) ear Comrade Booth: 
 
 In reply to yonr favor of recent date I am 
 pleased to furnish yon with the story of my 
 prison experiences in the South. 
 
 Of Scottish birth, I came from a family of 
 
 7 
 
 military antecedents, my great-grandfather hay- 
 ing, at nineteen years of age, fought for “Prince 
 Charlie 77 on the fatal field of C-ulloden, and one 
 of my grandfathers having served at Waterloo, 
 under Wellington, and the other under Nelson 
 at Copenhagen. This may in part explain why 
 I enlisted at sixteen, and served under Grant. 
 It was at the battle of Beamis Station that, 
 while I had my gun raised firing at the enemy 
 in front, the cry, “Surrender, damn you! 77 as a 
 Confederate knocked down my gun with his car¬ 
 bine from behind, told me that Hampton’s' dis¬ 
 mounted cavalry had stolen upon us from the 
 rear. It is hardly necessary to describe the 
 scenes which immediately followed our capture 
 —the naked corpses of our men, stripped for 
 their clothing, the midnight march, followed by 
 
 859 
 
the march into Petersburg on the following day, 
 and the 'subsequent night on an island in the 
 Appomattox. Then came the ride to Rich¬ 
 mond, where we were searched and robbed at 
 Libby Prison, and then about five weeks at Belle 
 Isle. Belle Isle was a paradise compared with 
 Salisbury, to which we were removed about the 
 first of October. The journey took three days 
 and two nights. We arrived at Salisbury on 
 the third evening, and were marched by a round¬ 
 about route to the stockade. I had left Belle 
 Isle without shoes, and the weather at night 
 was frosty and cool. I was assigned to a tent 
 near the cannon at what I should call the south- 
 east corner of the stockade—the corner nearest 
 the railway depot. The tent was crowded, and 
 I went to stay under the frame hospital, on the 
 ground. We used to “spoon” together to keep 
 warm. There is no need to repeat the awful 
 story, so well known to you and to others who 
 were there—how at first the dead were carried 
 out in coffins, and then we noticed the same 
 coffins come back, and then, as the number 
 grew, no coffins were used, and the corpses were 
 heaped up like cordwood in the dead-wagons. 
 Then came the attempt to enlist us, of foreign 
 birth, in the Confederate service. Suffering 
 and hungry as I was^ I remember the parting 
 words of my mother—“Die in a ditch sooner 
 
 360 
 
than do anything dishonest.” I felt that it 
 would be dishonest to purchase deliverance 
 from misery and death at the expense of violat¬ 
 ing my oath to the Union, and I made answer 
 to that effect when the choice was presented 
 to me. 
 
 Every Salisbury survivor remembers the 
 attempted break of November 25, 1864. I 
 regret that the story has never been told by one 
 of the leaders in it. Although I took part in it, 
 it was not until afterward that I beard the 
 details of the plot. I understand the plan was 
 to have a general rising of the prisoners as soon 
 as the able-bodied regiment of guards had 
 stalled from the depot for the front. The sig¬ 
 nal was'given too soon. I was aroused by the 
 cry, “Prepare to strike for liberty,” and I joined 
 in the rush for the big gate. There is an impres¬ 
 sion on my mind that we expected the big gate 
 to be open for water carrying, but it was closed. 
 Then we turned toward the small gate, and 
 about that time the Confederates opened on us 
 with cannon and rifles, and I believe some of 
 the citizens had shotguns. Many of our men 
 sought cover, but a number of us remained in 
 mass in the market space until all was over. T 
 was in about the center of this crowd. We all 
 dropped to let the bullets pass over. If you 
 ask my feelings at the time I will s'ay that, not 
 
 361 
 
having been in the secret of the original plan, I 
 did not know that the plan had failed, and was 
 thinking that we would make another rush in 
 some direction. It was not until the big gate 
 swung open, and the rebels marched in that I 
 saw lire affair was over. The number that took 
 part in the break was probably from 500 to 
 1,000, and the number of our men killed and 
 wounded—eighty-one killed, two hundred and 
 sixty-seven wounded—in a few minutes, showed 
 the frightful extent of the massacre. I under¬ 
 stood that three or four rebels were killed, one 
 being shot as he stood on the stockade, by one 
 of our men with a gun taken from the guards 
 inside. 
 
 The death rate continued to grow, and I 
 would have gone to the trenches too, but for the 
 kindness of a civilian prisoner, Mr. Albert D. 
 Richardson, correspondent of the New York 
 Tribune, who noticed my youth and my emaci¬ 
 ated condition, and took me to> his quarters. I 
 was of some slight assistance to him, in his 
 escape, being the “little lad” whom he mentions 
 in his book as carrying the medicine chest to the 
 gate. 
 
 After the break the guards used to fire into 
 the prison frequently at night, and many of our 
 men were killed in this way, without having 
 given any offense whatever. 
 
 362 
 
I was exchanged in March, 1865, and it may 
 interest Salisbury 'survivors to know that the 
 representations made by Mr. Richardson in Jan¬ 
 uary of that year to the authorities at Wash¬ 
 ington, after his successful escape, regarding 
 the awful suffering of our men at Salisbury, had 
 much to do with bringing about exchanges. 
 
 Major John IT. Gee, who commanded the Sal¬ 
 isbury prison, undoubtedly perished some years 
 ago by the wall of a building which was on fire 
 at Jacksonville, Florida, falling upon him. Of 
 the fact there seems to be no doubt, as I saw 
 it in the Savannah News. Gee was far more 
 deserving of death than Wirz. Wirz was con¬ 
 demned for, among other charges, having 
 ordered the guard to shoot down prisoners who 
 attempted to cross the dead-line. Gee encour¬ 
 aged, if he did not order liis guards to shoot 
 down prisoners who made no attempt to cross 
 the dead-line, and when a murder of this kind 
 was committed Gee rewarded the murderer with 
 a furlough. There seems to be no doubt also 
 that sick or wounded prisoners were sometimes 
 buried alive. 
 
 / 
 
 The war has long been over; its lessons have 
 been taught and learned, and the best interests 
 of our country demand that a union of hearts 
 should support the Union of states ; but that is 
 
 363 
 
no reason why history should remain unwritten, 
 or be written untruthfully. 
 
 Yours ever, 
 
 HENRY MANN, 
 710 Hancock St., Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 My readers will remember the mention I 
 made of Comrade Auringer, who made me a 
 present of the “bone bible” relic as he was about 
 to take his flight from the prison, and who was 
 afterward reported shot. The following 
 
 LETTER FROM LOUIS K. AURINGER 
 
 This shows that he is alive 
 
 Const an cia, New York, August 10th, 1897. 
 Comrade B. F. Booth: 
 
 Your letter to me was a happy sur¬ 
 prise. Your, name had slipped from my 
 mind, but now I remember you clearly. You 
 are the one who had the title of “Reporter/ 7 on 
 account of keeping a record of the incidents in 
 the prison. Yes, Comrade, I clearly remember 
 your giving me your wife’s address, and that I 
 promised to write to her when I reached home, 
 if I should be so fortunate; but if I could tell 
 you of that terrible march of more than 400 
 miles over the wilds of that mountainous 
 country, traveled mostly by night, you would 
 not wonder that we lost about everything but 
 our lives, and barely escaped with that. How- 
 
 364 
 
ever, I succeeded in keeping that, ring, and have 
 it yet, the most cherised relic of Salisbury, but 
 your wife’s address> was lost, together with all 
 papers and trinkets we had about us. This 
 accounts for my not fulfilling my promise. , 
 
 Gillman was not a brother-in-law but a chum 
 in my company. He was recaptured about fifty 
 miles from, the “pen,” and there was one other 
 of our squad whom we never saw after our race 
 on that eventful night; and he may have been 
 the man who was killed, as Gillman reported. 
 
 I am happy to say that through a kind Provi¬ 
 dence I am yet alive and “a very lively corpse,” 
 but no money could ever hire me to go through 
 another such an experience as we had in Salis¬ 
 bury Prison pen. It seems so strange to me 
 that no history of that prison has ever been 
 written, while Andersonville, Belle Isle, Libby 
 and other prisons are so well known, while tire 
 suffering in Salisbury was far greater and the 
 death rate beyond anything ever known in a 
 prison in the south. It was, I suppose, as Major 
 Gee so often threatened us, that he would have 
 the barn-burners all in the Confederate army, 
 or in hell, in thirty days. But I am proud of the 
 boys who ,so manfully braved the suffering and 
 privation of the prison, and stood 1 the severest 
 test of loyalty possible or ever imposed on man. 
 I am glad you are going to have ,your record 
 
 305 
 
printed. I rejoice to know that the inhuman¬ 
 ity and suffering in that place is to be put in 
 print while there are yet living witnesses to the 
 facts. From your physical condition the uignt 
 I bid you farewell in Salisbury, little did I think 
 you would ever live to nerforni that duty. 1 
 
 t t 
 
 congratulate you on being alive and wish you 
 success in your undertaking, and if I can be of 
 any service, write me. I am your obedient 
 
 servant, 
 
 LEWIS K. AURINGEE. 
 
 TESTIMONY OF REV. DR. MAN GUMS, A 
 CONFEDERATE PREACHER, 
 
 To attest the truth of what we have written 
 of the horrors' of Salisbury, many other letters 
 might be printed, but we shall be content to 
 introduce extracts from articles of Rev. Dr. 
 Mangums, printed in the Charlotte Observer, 
 May and June, 1893. He was Professor of 
 Moral and Mental Philosophy in the University 
 of North Carolina in 1890. He y-as living in 
 Salisbury during the war, and was an eye wit¬ 
 ness to the events he describes, and though 
 writing to defend and excuse the barbarity of 
 the prison management, bears witness to all the 
 horrors described in our book. He says: 
 
 “About the last of September, 1864, ,Major 
 Gee received a despatch from Richm'ond, order- 
 
 366 
 
mg him to make provisions immediately for a 
 
 very large number of prisoners. * * * He 
 
 was greatly .shocked by the order, for he knew 
 
 it would be impossible to take care of so many, 
 
 but bad as it was at Salisbury, it was worse at 
 
 Richmond.” , 
 
 * * * 
 
 When the prisoners came they could not be 
 supplied with tents, so suffered greatly 
 from exposure.” * * * “They resorted to 
 
 Yankee ingenuity to> provide shelter—a few 
 crowded under the hospital and other houses, 
 and slept there in bad weather; but the main 
 resort was burrowing in the earth. The whole 
 enclosure was literally honeycombed by these 
 burrows. They were queer-looking holes, dug 
 some three feet .deep, with mud-thatched roofs, 
 a hole being punched through the surface at one 
 end and a little chimney built out of baked 
 earth. * * * The tenant had either to sit 
 
 or lie down, as they were too shallow for him 
 to stand. They must have been wretchedly 
 uncomfortable and destructive of health and 
 life in the incessant rains that fell in January 
 and February, 18G5. The hospitals, were 
 crowded, and such a number died in them that 
 some preferred! to linger and suffer their sick¬ 
 ness in these little cells. v Consequently they not 
 infrequently died there alone, and were not dis¬ 
 covered for days. ” 
 
 367 
 
This is the testimony of a Confederate Divine. 
 
 SICK—FILTHY—RAGGED. 
 
 The Doctor further says: “The Confederacy 
 was in its last struggle—its resources all gone, 
 and therefore, though the condition of the pris¬ 
 oners was wretched and appalling, there was no 
 way to ameliorate it. They were in a miserable 
 plight when they came. Large numbers of them 
 were unable to walk, and had, to be carried from 
 the train to the prison. Those who had been 
 confined elsewhere for a long time were pale, 
 emaciated and dejected. Many of them were 
 very filthy and ragged. Some were without hat. 
 or cap or any sign of shoes. The clothing of 
 many was very meagre and of summer texture. 
 A very large portion had no blankets. Such 
 being their condition it is evident that their suf¬ 
 ferings in the cold winter were intolerable. Sit¬ 
 uated as they were the allowance of wood, 
 according to army regulations, was insufficient. 
 Yet as to fuel most energetic efforts were made 
 to supply them. * * * In addition to their 
 
 other ills, they had to bear the pangs of hunger. 
 Just prior to their sudden advent, Major Myers, 
 post commissary, had, in obedience to orders, 
 sent all or nearly all, his stores to Richmond, 
 Gbldsoboro and Wilmington.” 
 
CLIMBING OAKS FOB ACORNS. 
 
 * * “They suffered intensely from 
 
 hunger. They would climb the oaks for acorns, 
 and fish from the filthy sewers the crust’s' and 
 the bones. The sick especially suffered, as what 
 they got; was often so coarse that they could not 
 eat it. 
 
 * * * 
 
 “Although such efforts were made to provide 
 water, the supply was insufficient for drinking, 
 cooking and washing. Wells were dug until 
 they drained one and another.” 
 
 “The hospital accommodations were not such 
 as were desired by the prison officials, and were 
 greatly inadequate to the necessities of so large 
 a number of men so unfavorably situated. The 
 buildings were too small, there was a limited 
 supply of bunks and coverings and even straw, 
 and withal a distressing scarcity of medicines.” 
 
 PESTILENCEi AND DEATH. 
 
 “There was terrible mortality in the prison. 
 From the 1st of October, 1864, to the 17th of 
 February, 1865, there were 3,419 deaths among 
 the prisoners. The number of daily deaths var¬ 
 ied from eighteen to forty. On one day about 
 sixty-five died. In its worst days the condition 
 of the prisoners was shocking—the appearance 
 and suffering of the 1 prisoners harrowing in the 
 
 369 
 
extreme. The reel clay soil held the water and 
 under the tramp of thousands became one •scene 
 of mud. In December a number of prisoners 
 were detailed to police the enclosure, but so 
 boggy was the whole surface that they could do 
 but little. Ditching would not drain the ground 
 sufficiently. The prisoners were the very per¬ 
 sonification of forlorn wretchedness. They 
 seemed to grow more and more dejected and 
 ennui congealed the very springs of life. 
 Doomed to inevitable idleness and inactivity, 
 with no sight but such as aggravated the gloom 
 and horror of their shrouded hearts, with hope 
 deferred from week to week, from month to 
 month, many of them sank under the sheer bur¬ 
 den of despair, and with a stolid silence and 
 indifference to time or eternity, finished their 
 mortal sorrows' in death.” 
 
 THE DEAD i BURIED NAKED—SICKEN¬ 
 ING SIGHTS. 
 
 “There was a small brick building near the 
 center of the prison, which was used as a recep¬ 
 tacle for the dead until they were carried to the 
 burial grounds. They were hauled then, with¬ 
 out coffins, to the old field west of the prison. 
 A detail, first of convicts and afterwards of pris¬ 
 oners of war, was kept day by day, constantly 
 digging the long pits in which they were 
 
 370 
 
interred. These pits were four feet deep, a lit¬ 
 tle over six feet wide, and were extended par¬ 
 allel about sixty yards. The bodies were laid 
 in them without covering-—there was not mater¬ 
 ial to cover the living, much less the dead. They 
 were laid side by side, as 1 closely as they could 
 lie, and when the number was too large for the 
 space that: was dug, one would be placed on top 
 between every two. They generally had very 
 little clothing on, as the living were permitted 
 to take their garments. Seldom does it fall to 
 the lot of man to behold a more sickening and 
 heartrending spectacle than they presented. It 
 was a lesson on the vanity of this life more 
 impressive and eloquent than tongue or pen can 
 describe. It was a picture of the hellish curse 
 of war, in one of its most horrible and hideous 
 aspects. I begged the workmen at least to get 
 some brush to lay over their faces. Sadly have 
 I mused, as I stood and gazed upon tlieir atten¬ 
 uated forms, as they seemed the very romance 
 of the horrible in shroudless, coffinless grave. 
 Those long, bony hands were once the dimpled 
 pride of a devoted mother, and on that cold, 
 blanched brow tender love had often pressed 
 the kiss of a mother’s lips. Perhaps while I 
 gazed on their hapless fate, a fond wife and 
 prattling children were watching for the mail 
 that they might receive the longed for tidings 
 
 371 
 
from him who was best beloved. But I turn 
 from the theme, as I always turned from those 
 harrowing, chilling burials, with a heart full of 
 sadness, and shuddering over the unwritten ter¬ 
 rors and calamities of war. 
 
 “From the congregated evils of imprisonment 
 the prisoners were always anxiously seeking to 
 escape. Gladly did they accept any opportun¬ 
 ity to get out, however laborious the duties for 
 which they were detailed. Numbers of them 
 were on parole or detail for various' duties. 
 Some were clerks, some in the workshops, some 
 in the shoe factories, some digging graves, some 
 hauling wood on the train, etc., etc. 
 
 RECRUITING OFFICER. 
 
 “A Col. Tucker came there for the purpose of 
 getting recruits from their number for the Con¬ 
 federate army. Only foreigners were allowed 
 to enlist. Nearly eighteen hundred took the 
 oath administered by a Catholic priest. Some 
 may have taken this step in good faith, as it is 
 known they were often recruited by foul means 
 in the United States, but a great number chose 
 it as the only means of escape from their ter¬ 
 rible den. They were called “galvanized 
 Yankees,” and while most of them made 
 scarcely a show of fighting when the test came, 
 
 372 
 
a few stood tlieir ground and fought with true 
 courage.” 
 
 THE DEPARTURE. 
 
 * * * * “About the 20th of February all 
 
 who were well enough were removed. The sick 
 were carried on the trains. The hospitals were 
 emptied of all who could travel. It was a pit¬ 
 iable spectacle to see the haggard, staggering 
 patients marching to the train. Some faltered 
 along alone; some walking in couples, support¬ 
 ing one another; now and then three would 
 come together, the one in the middle dragged 
 along by the other two; and occasionally sev¬ 
 eral would bear a blanket on which was 
 stretched a friend unable to walk or stand. 
 Deeply was every heart stirred which was not 
 dead to sympathy, as the throng gazed on the 
 heartrending pageant. God forbid I should 
 ever be called to witness the like again! At 
 the train they received refreshments from the 
 hands of several citizens. About; 2,800 started 
 to march to Greensboro. A great many who 
 started were unable to make the march. Besides 
 the stragglers, two hundred were left at Lex¬ 
 ington and five hundred the next day, were 
 abandoned on the road. About one thousand 
 failed on the way. 
 
 373 
 
NEGROS STARVED AND SHOT SAME AS 
 WHITE PRISONERS. 
 
 “I have failed to mention that three or four 
 hundred negroes were brought to the prison, 
 and were treated precisely as other prisoners of 
 war. 
 
 “After this general delivery about five hun¬ 
 dred were confined, some of them from Sher- 
 maifs army and were hurried to Charlotte just 
 in time to escape Stonemaids raiders in April. 
 The day that Stoneman captured Salisbury his 
 prisoners were penned in the very same stock¬ 
 ade which had so long enclosed the horde's of 
 Federal captives. All the buildings and stock¬ 
 ade were burned by St on email's orders on the 
 night of the 12th of April. A number of his 
 men had been imprisoned there, and doubtless 
 some of them were in the detail to which was 
 assigned the avenging Torch. ” 
 
 “Having written thus frankly of the dark his¬ 
 tory of this great reservoir of misery and; death, 
 I now ask, Who is to blame ?” 
 
 We have quoted only such statements from 
 the articles of Dr. Mangums as bear upon 
 the actual condition of the prisoners. The 
 apology and defense offered by the learned Doc¬ 
 tor can never excuse the Confederate officers, 
 for the most unexampled barbarism ever prac- 
 
 374 
 
tice'd: by a people making* pretentions: to civili¬ 
 zation. No nation or people have any right by 
 the laws of war to take prisoners whom they 
 know themselves to be unable to treat humanely 
 —to do so is simply barbarous. It is seen that 
 the facts stated in my narrative are fully sub¬ 
 stantiated, by rebel testimony, as well as by 
 men who were in prison with me. 
 
 375 
 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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