INCIDENTS IN DIXIE;
BEING
ſm ſilºniº (ºptimit ºf mºnium split
In T-
MILITA R Y PR IS ON S
0-
RICHMOND, N, ORLEANS AND SALISBURY.
Published for the Benefit of Maryland State Fair
Fºr the Christian and Sanitary Commissions.
iſ altimore.
PRINTED BY JAMES YOUNG -
Nº. 114 ºr Ballrºonº sº-
1864.
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sº
--- ºn
INCIDENTS IN DIXIE.
- -
We were on a full retreat toward Wash-
ington, my regiment covering in the rear.
At every step some poor unfortunate gave
out, through fatigue and heat, and we were
obliged to leave him behind to be, as after-
wards proved, taken prisoner by the Rebels.
At Centreville many more gave out, my-
self among the number. Weak and dis-
pirited, I was asked to take shelter under
the roof of a kind old doctor, who treated
me very courteously, and said if he had
anything that would do me good I should
have it. A bed was made upon the floor.
as all his bedding and furniture were in the
out-houses, having been placed there in the
supposition that the Federals, in their re-
treat would burn all the houses in the vil-

4.
lage; but in that, I am glad to say, they
were disappointed.
On Monday morning at half-past five
o'clock I was awakened by my host and
told that it was reported that a body of
Rebel cavalry were trying to cut of the re-
treat of the stragglers. At this news I
hastily dressed, seized my musket, thanked
my host, the doctor, and hurried off as fast
as my lameness would allow, which was in
speed very like the snail. I did not know
the full extent of the disaster of Bull Run
until I left Centreville. On both sides of
the road were the deserted camps, which
two days before were teeming with life:
now they presented through the misty rain
a most melancholy remembrance of the dis-
aster. Here were barrels of salt meat and
boxes of crackers. There, what had been
the tent of an officer hurriedly pulled up
and carried off, without taking the trunks,
ammunition or any of the many valuables

5
which lay scattered about. Camp kettles
and utensils lay around in every direction;
wounded horses, broken wagons, with their
contents spilled in the road, ambulances,
broken muskets, blankets and clothing of
every description lay confusedly everywhere.
Two little negroes that I passed wanted to
know if they could have one of the wounded
horses and some old harness. I could do
no better than say yes. Up hill and down
I went, in vain trying to get away from
such devastation; everywhere I saw it, nor
could I rid myself of thinking about it.
In vain Ishut my eyes and tried to think
it all a dream. But its reality would be
forced upon me by the overturned wagons.
“How far is it to Fairfax Court House?”
I asked of a young man whom I met.
“Twelve miles, sir.” “What time is it?”
I again asked, “One o'clock.” I began
to despair of ever reaching it; I was fast
being left behind by other stragglers, some

6
of them helping me along a few paces and
then leaving me to plod through the mud
alone. At the cross roads that lead to
Vienna, I was upon the point of firing my
musket, which had become completely cov-
ered with rust, when an officer riding up
advised me not to do so. “Are our troops
in Fairfax?” I asked. “Really I cannot
tell you,” he replied, and rode off toward
Manassas. I thought no more of it; but
after I was taken I saw him and he spoke
to me about it, saying that he thought I
knew him to be a Southerner. But I was
too sick to know anything. After being
helped along some distance, I reached Fair-
tax at four o'clock, P. M. One man said
that he would give me a room in which I
could rest myself. I thanked him and ac-
cepted his offer. He led me into a build-
ing that I took to be a bakery, and was
going to lead me up stairs, when I glanced
into a room at the side and discovered a
1*

7.
ball and chain. The truth instantly flashed
across my brain—he wished to get me into
a cell, rather than a room, lock me in, and
then when the Rebels came, triumphantly
bring out the prisoner he would have trap-
ped, if he could. It did not require long
to judge that this bakery was a county jail.
He asked for my musket, which was im-
mediately presented at a full cock, and
keeping my hand upon the trigger (for
my bayonet was not on) I demanded him
to lead the way out, which he did reluc-
tantly. When I was out I breathed freer,
and at once persuaded a little boy to show
me to the hospital. I laid my musket
down, took off my belt and overcoat, wrap-
ped myself in my blanket, and lying down
was soon asleep. There were in the hos-
pital, when I reached it, some seven or
eight others, wounded and sick. I had been
asleep about an hour, when I was awakened
by some one kicking me. I hastily rose to

8
a sitting posture, when a small piece of
steel perforated with holes was presented
to my face, at the same time a gruff voice
demanded my arms. I looked for my mus-
ket—it was gone. He, suspecting what I
was looking after, quietly informed that it
was confiscated, and if I had any small
arms, I might as well “give 'em up.” I
assured him that I had none, and after
searching me he appeared satisfied. He
then returned to the door, and after talk-
ing in an undertone to the doctor a few
moments, he turned to us and said: “None
one ye needn't try to get away, fur if yer
do, I'll blow yer to h-l as sure as I was
born in Kentucky.” With this he left us
and in a few moments returned with his
captain, who told us they were Virginia
cavalry, which, had we not been told, we
should scarcely have guessed. Their uni-
form was citizens dress; their arms were
double-barreled shot guns and a cavalry

sword, and they were covered with mud
from head to foot. The captain assured us
that we should be well treated if we be-
haved ourselves. He then went up stairs
to see some Alabama men who had been
prisoners in our hands but were left on ac-
count of their being sick. -
Towards dark, Mrs. Jackson (wife of
Jackson who killed Ellsworth) visited us
and told us that her husband had been
Union until he was killed, but we couldn't
see it in that light, and told her so. She
said she had brought her little daughter in
to tell the Yankees that the South would
never come back to the HATED Union –
When she asked the little girl to speak.
she hung her head, and putting her finger
into her mouth, said, “I don't want to
Her mother urged her by the promise of a
stick of candy, and the little girl refused
point blank by saying “I shan’t." Mrs.
Jackson, however, gave us a lecture upon

10
our folly, as she termed it, and it was in-
teresting. Such a lecture I never got be-
fore from a woman, and I hope I shall
never have such another. It was listened
to very attentively, and she concluded with:
*Although you have killed my husband, if
I can do anything for you, you are per-
ſectly welcome to my services.” I thanked
her for us all, and told her that something
to eat would be most acceptable, as we had
had nothing since Sunday morning. She
said that she would send us something, and
I saw her but once after, though she did
send us some bread and butter.
After Mrs. Jackson left us, we explored
our situation, and at the same time tried
to invent some scheme by which we might
get released, but in vain; the guards sur-
rounded us on every side. At dark we
heard firing, and all was confusion among
the guards, for they thought they were at-
tacked by some of our troops—but soon the

11
cause of the firing was found out. One of
the guards had taken the stars and stripes
off the Court House and was using it for a
mark. So we were obliged to hear, though
we would not see them, fire at our dear old
flag. Some time during the night we had
the honor to be visited by Mrs. Jackson's
brother-in-law, and as might be expected.
we met with a hot reception from him.
“I reckon you'd like to join our army now.
wouldn't you?' We did not think we
would, and told him so, when he gave us
a lecture. He was well under the influ-
ence of liquor, which we saw and he ac-
knowledged, and to make his argument the
more striking, he concluded with: “You’r
gentlemen and scholars, and so am I; gen-
tlemen, I've killed six Yankees, and I'm
going to kill as many more, so good night
With this well seasoned with oaths, (which
I omit,.) he left us, and we were not at all
sorry for it, though we did laugh at him.

12
He was, when I was released, a prisoner at
Governor’s Island, in New York harbor
perhaps he can judge of a prisoner's feel-
ings by this time.
Tuesday we were left alone, only being
obliged to buy our breakfast.
Thursday we were taken by the ambu-
lances which we had lost at Bull Run to
Manassas Junction. The battlefield as we
passed over it did not now look as it did a
week before; fences were torn down, vast
corn-fields destroyed by cavalry and in-
fantry. Here and there could be seen the
remains of a horse that was left unburied.
Soldiers were wandering over the field in
search of anything that might be used as
a relic to remember the Yankees and their
flight. Squads of men were yet burying
the dead that lay on the fields or had been
lying in the bushes, and everything seemed
to point sadly to the terrible slaughter.
Upon reaching Manassas we were taken to

13
Gen. Beauregard’s head-quarters, and from
there to a little low shed by the railroad,
where we were kept until Friday night,
having eaten nothing but a bowl of rice
during all that time. Here were many of
our poor wounded soldiers, without any at-
tendance except that furnished by ourselves
and one or two of our doctors, who had to
work without medicine. One doctor came
up to me, and thinking I had seen him, i.
asked him if he was a Southerner. He
-
said “no.” I then (feeling better acquaint-
ed) asked if his name was Taylor, of the
First New Jersey Volunteers? He said it
was, and I gave him my name and Com-
pany. He was paroled after being in prison
two months. It was sorrowful to see these
poor men, who had risked their lives for
their country, suffering in the hands of an
enemy who was either without the means
of feeding and caring for them, or crimi-
nally refused the common attention hu-
º
-

14
manity would prompt. At one time here
we paid fifty cents for a pint of water.
I tried on Friday evening to get some-
thing to eat, and after a dilligent search
through the camp I came across a little
slab house and inquired if they had any
bread they would sell me. They said that
they had a few small cakes, but an officer
had spoken for them, and they had no
more flour to make bread. I then asked
if they would know the officer. They said
no. “I am he,” I said, “don’t you see my
stripes?” and I pointed to the stripes upon
my arm. She then gave me four for which
I paid twelve cents. They were small
biscuits and could be eaten at a mouthful.
This was however better than nothing, and
they tasted good although they were burned.
At ten o'clock, Friday evening, all the
sick and wounded were placed in box cars
without anything but the floor to lieupon:
and when all were on, the engine whistled,

15
and away we started for Richmond; not
with the lightheartedness of a pleasure
seeker, but with that feeling which is so
characteristic of a man who is in the wrong
place, and we felt sure we were that man.
I had no objection to go to Richmond, but
I preferred going with my Regiment to go-
ing as I did. Early next morning we
reached Gordonsville, about sixty miles
from Manassas. This place is surrounded
by mountain ridges, the only openings be-
ing those by which the Railroads come in
It is a small town though very pleasantly
located. One of the F. F. W.'s came to
have a talk with us as He said. He wished
us to understand that he was a gentleman
of the First Blood, only he appeared to be
a little the worse for liquor, which he said
he was fond of, especially “mint julips.”
*As long as you are fighting for that rag
(Stars and Stripes) of yours, you can't do
anything. All that we want you to do is
-

16
to let us alone, and [here he was inter-
rupted by one of the wounded men who
said, “yes, you want to be let alonel-
That's all any thief asks.” Our F. F. W.
did not answer this, but having some ur-
gent business to attend to he could stop no
longer with us, and then 'twas going to
rain besides. One old ladythinking me to be
a good Secesh, asked me why our (Sesh)
men did not let the Yankees alone to die
upon the battle-field. I of course did not
know and immediately vanished. One
wounded man who needed some refresh-
ments was very kindly furnished them
by a young lady who gave for her reason
in so doing, that if she had a friend
wounded and taken prisoner, she should
want him kindly treated.
At dark we again commenced our jour-
ney to Richmond, not having had anything
to eat during the day. At Gordonsville a
passenger car was attached to the train,

17
and I, with some assistance, got into it and
was obliged to sit with a person whom I
took to be a citizen, but who told me that
he was a Captain in the Confederate ser-
vice. He seemed to take quite an interest
in me, as he furnished me with all that I
wished to eat, also offering me a drink from
a whiskey flask that he carried, which was
politely declined, as I did not like that
kind of nourishment. At my refusal, he
thought me to be offended with him, for I
afterwards learned that to refuse a social
drink when proffered, was as much as to
say “I don't care about you.’’ He asked
my pardon if he had insulted me, which I
assured him that he had not. On reach-
ing Richmond, which we did at an early
hour Sunday morning, July 29, he bade
me good bye, and hoped I would soon be
with my friends again. We were con-
veyed from the cars to the General Hospital
by express wagons passing the State House
2*

18
and Richmond Theatre on our way. On
account of the early hour, there were not
many persons to see our debut in Richmond,
but be that as it may, the Yankees certain-
ly had entered Richmond, though under
rather trying circumstances. I asked if
we would get any food that morning, and
they said we would, and we did.
The General Hospital is situated on a
commanding eminence on the outskirts of
of the city, and was originally built for an
Almshouse, though not entirely finished in-
side when the war broke out. There were
about three hundred Confederate soldiers
sick here, and some four hundred of us
sick and wounded prisoners. We were for
a week or two obliged to sleep upon beds
laid upon the floor, but afterwards supplied
with cots.
The Sisters of Charity were our nurses,
having kindly, as is their custom, volun-
teered for the hospital.

19
The Richmond Dispatch, the most rabid
Secession sheet could be had in the hos-
pital at nine and ten cents. It gave some
most melancholy accounts of the demorali-
zation of the Army of the Potomac. A
Lieutenant Booth, of New York, one day
received a copy of a letter (written by a
man in Richmond) to his wife, telling her
that he was perfectly satisfied in regard to
the righteousness of the cause of the South.
The Lieutenant was unable to find out the
author of the letter, and if he ever does he
will certainly give him what he deserves for
writing a letter so insulting to the Lieu-
tenant as well as to the cause he repre-
sented.
Each day some one of the wounded pris-
oners was obliged to go into the amputating
room and there lose an arm or leg, though
he should protest against it; some would
get well while others would die. One Ser-
geant of the First Regiment Rhode Island

20
Volunteers, whose name was Jeffers, was
notified that his leg would be taken of
but on account of some mistake, they did
not take him to the amputating room, and
afterwards forgot it. He got well and has
two good sound legs of which a great many
poor fellows cannot boast. We were visit-
ed by some clergymen who gave us tracts,
and the Sisters of Charity gave us some
books from their Library, which were very
acceptable to pass our time away, though
the creed was not favored by all of us. I
will now say one word for the “Sisters.”
Their attention was indefatigable, and they
could be seen flitting from ward to ward
on their errand of mercy, and many a
wounded soldier can give to them his thanks
for being cared for and restored to health.
They were the only women in Richmond.
with two exceptions, that seemed to treat
us as anything but beasts, such as are only
looked at in a menagerie when shut in by

21
iron bars. The two that I allude to were
by birth New Jersey ladies, and perhaps
it is to this fact that we owe their kind at-
tention. We had from them every little
delicacy for which we could wish. One of
the doctors, however, failing in an at-
tempt to insult them while on one of thei
visits, determined that they should come
no more if he could help it, he therefore
asked why they did not give to Southern
men as well as to Union. One of them
answered, “because they preferred Union.”
This was enough, and they were no more
permitted to enter the place. I saw them
again at their residence when passing to
the Tobacco factories, and waived my
handkerchief, which was returned in the
same manner, they throwing a kiss after
us. As we were about to turn the
corner of a street that hid us from their
view, I waived my cap as did many others
who had made their acquaintance in the
hospital.

22
One pleasant morning while I was eat-
ing, the Doctor's Secretary ordered me to
be ready to go to the Tobacco Factory. I
bade good bye to all, and as I bade good
bye to one little fellow who had been
wounded, and then bayonetted, named Dar-
row, of Brooklyn, he said, “I wish I were
going.” He died in a few weeks after-
wards. In about ten minutes after our
leaving the Hospital we were surrounded
by boys who tried to get by the guard to
ask us questions, and at every Corner We
could hear from some urchin in drawers
sing out, “Here come some Yanks.”
When we reached the prison, our names,
rank and regiment were taken by a Dutch
Sergeant, of whom I shall speak hereafter.
I found my quarters with the assistance of
a guard, which was in a large room on the
third story of a large tobacco factory on
Main street, near 25th street. All the
buildings around contained prisoners. The

28
room that I was in held two hundred Yan-
kees all laying in what is sometimes called
spoon-fashion, that is, we all lay the same
way, and when we wanted to turn over,
the order was passed along until all were
awake, and then all turned at once. Upon
making my entrance I was surprised to see
a member of my regiment and company.
for I had supposed that Dr. Taylor and my-
self were the only men, prisoners, from that
regiment. Rogers, for that was his name.
did not have a coat on his back, wearing
nothing but a shirt and pantaloons. I was
in a little better condition, though a Con-
federate had taken a fancy to my overcoat
and blanket; my shirt I sent to be washed
while in the hospital and it was never re-
turned. But I was still a Yankee, though
shirtless. My money had now given out
and I was compelled to live on what I re-
ceived. This was the tug of war. Eight
ºnces of bread a day, with a small piece
24
of meat, and occasionally a small quantity
of “magotty” rice, that had lain in all
probability some years in the tierce. This
however, is only one item of our treatment.
We had pretty good water though I have
drank better. Some of the men who had
money wanted to buy things, and after a
“deal of persuasion,” Gen. Winder agreed
to allow one man to go into the city to
make purchases for the rest. Mr. Abon.
ºf Massachusetts, was the man from our
building, and as long as money lasted we
expected to have what we wished, but this
was doomed to failure, for the General, aſ-
Her a few days, put a stop to it, and again
we could get nothing. A great many of
the boys took to gambling which soon left
some of them moneyless. Such was the
passion of some for gambling that they
would stake their clothing upon the cards.
From the windows at the back of the
prison, we could look for miles across the


25
river, upon a level and fertile plain which
was well cultivated, and was, as I learned,
most excellent land. At night when the sun
was setting I have stationed myself at the
window, taking care that the guard should
not see me, and gazed upon the beauties
of nature until after the sun had entirely
disappeared from the horizon.
Some distance above us on the river, the
water was falling and splashing over rocks,
turning monster wheels to grind the wheat
and corn that was to be used for the peo-
ple, and army consumption—on they came
each drop sparkling like rubies in the set-
ting sun-light, then rushing under bushes,
dashing over stones under the long bridge
that cross to Manchester, then onward until
just as it reaches oppositeus, it widens and
grows more sluggish and deep, 'Tis not
now a rushing life-current, but a calm and
placid river, moving slowly onward toward
the ocean. At such times as these my
3.

26
mind wandered home to the old school-
house and mill stream, and a tear has often
found its way down my cheek as I thought
tº do they miss me there.” At nine
every night lights were ordered to be put
out, and if not done, a terrible fuss was
always made. One night they were not
but as soon as usual and a Lieutenant Todd,
Mrs. Lincoln's brother, came in with a
drawn sword, and struck the man whose
light was not out, the sword entering his
leg making an impression at least upon the
thoughts of the wounded man. The Lieu-
tenant was always sure to leave suddenly
after such sorties, as he termed them. Our
guards grew more strict over us day by
day, and at last no one dared to show him-
self near a window for fear of being fired
upon, numbers were shot as they uninten-
tionally showed themselves at the window
of the prison. We considered ourselves
fortunate that so far no one had been killed

27
in our prison, though many had been fired
upon but were spared from the fatal bullet :
yet we were not always to escape thus, for
one day as a Mr. Bueck, of the Seventy-
ninth New York State Militia, was looking
out at the window, a guard outside saw
him, and without a word of warning, fired.
the ball entering Mr. Bueck's abdomen.
killing him instantly. We all gathered
around him muttering our threats against
the guard, who was trembling, loading his
musket and looking up at the windows as
if he expected some just retribution would
fall upon him for his cowardly act.
In a short time the Rebel surgeon ar-
rived with a dozen guards to protect him.
whose muskets were ready cocked for use.
while he also held a revolver in each hand.
I will not express my opinion in regard to
what would have been done had they not
have come armed. As it was, we were con-
tented to inform the officer in command

28
that the guard who shot Bueck would be
met by a “brick-bat" reception if he was
not taken off the post. He however in-
formed us that we had better try it, and
we assured him that we would put our
threat into execution if he was not removed.
The guard was removed, and we could not
ascertain his name; he was, however, a
member of the 18th Georgia volunteers,
and fifteen years of age. After this we
were particular about getting within reach
of such powerful reminders as a bullet.
Many of the prisoners had managed to
make their escape from prison, some of
whom got home, but more were brought
back to confinement. One little fellow,
whose name I do not remember, tried his
chance of getting out through a sewer, that
must, we knew, enter the river, which was
but a few rods distant. This place had
been watched by many, with the hope of
sometime getting away. One dark night

29
this little fellow managed to secrete him-
self in the yard, and when all was quiet he
lowered himself into the sewer, and com-
menced making his way toward the river;
he did not go far before he was stopped by
the stern command of “halt!” He hardly
knew what to do—whether to halt or pro-
ceed—he was, however, persuaded to do
the latter, when he heard a voice come
manding him to come out, or he would be
fired upon. The sewer did not go under-
ground all the way to the river, and at the
place where it opened it was guarded by
one of the “Davis company.” He could
not but obey, and he was handcuffed. His
clothing was covered with mud, and when
he asked to have his handcuffs taken off,
so that he could wash his shirt, it would
not be allowed, and he was compelled to
wear it, wet and slimy as it was with mud
and refuse matter. At last we helped him
to draw it of over his head, and he washed
3*
30
it while it hung to his wrists. To wash it
in this way was most tiresome work, for he
could hardly use his hands. His friends
helped him, for which he was truly thank
ful. So many of the prisoners escaped,
that at last an order was issued to us by
the Dutch Sergeant, whom we nick-named
*Comthievederate States”—which was to
the effect, that any man attempting an es-
cape from the military prisons of the Con-
federate States, and any man caught trying
to escape, would be kept in irons until ex-
changed or released. Now we had roll-call
by our Dutchman twice a day. One little
fellow, by the name of Johnson, being late
at roll one morning, received the following
order: “If you no gits down here mit de
right time I puts handcuffs on your feet—
now understand 1’’ Johnson did under-
stand. One morning the sergeant came in
earlier than usual, and we were hastily
aroused by the guards' bayonets. One





31
who was sick, did not get up, and the ser-
geant went up to him, striking him with
his sword, said that he would learn him to
be sick and not answer roll-call.
Our prison was near the rear of a dwell-
ing house, on another street; and one
Sunday a little girl was with her mother
upon the balcony; she said, when she saw
us, “O mail these Yankees have finger-
nails just like we has, and some on them
has to shave just like pal’’ Wonderful
men we were, and many were the comments
passed upon our appearance; and the Hes-
sians, as we were called by the Richmond
papers, were the very lowest of the mud-
sills of the North, which often reminded
me of what a South Carolinian once said:
“I have no objection to fighting with gen-
tlemen, but I do not wish to fight shoe-
makers, nor mud-sills of the North.”
We had, up to this time, been in hopes
of an exchange, that we might again join
our regiments, but exchanges were never
made. On the 25th of September, 1861.
we were ordered to pack up to leave, not
for home, but New Orleans.
It was with downcast looks and sad hearts
we marched out of our prison—not because
we loved Richmond, but because the farther
we went from our lines, the less chance we
had of escaping. We continued to have
some hopes of a speedy release, but now we
gave all these hopes to the wind, as we
prepared for a long siege of hardships.
The streets were lined with people to see
us depart for New Orleans, and we were
hailed with many an epithet of “Now
maybe you'll know what niggers do, when
we get you picking cotton,” &c.
At the cars, a young lady of Richmond
discovered her brother; she rushed up to
him, and in vain the guard tried to get
her away; she clung to her brother's neck
until the cars were starting, and then was






33
forced to leave him. Her grief was par-
taken in by all who witnessed the impres-
sive scene; both prisoners and citizens
were melted to tears as we were moving
away. The young lady had been a gov-
erness in Richmond, and could not get
away for fear of losing her salary, which
she needed for her support—the full par-
ticulars I could not learn. Thus we parted
from Richmond, and I thought of the many
nights I had been sent hungry to bed;
thought how we would have eaten break-
fast at ten o'clock, A. M., and anxiously
wished for dinner or supper, which always
came together, at six or seven o'clock.
How hastily we had eaten our scanty half
loaf, swallowed our gill of soup, and, for
fear of losing some, taken a small stick,
with which we run around the edge of the
ºup, gathering all the little particles of
soup that had remained there. How care-
fully and studiously we emptied the cup-

34
how searchingly looked into it to see if any
more could be gathered from its creases.
Had the cups been human instead of tin.
they would have been looked out of coun-
tenance at least fifty times, so that they
never could have regained composure: such
were my reflections.
After taking this stimulant, which made
us wish for more, we would quietly lie
down upon the tobacco-stained floor, made
of hard pine, and for my part, having no
blanket, I would rap myself in the peace-
ful thought of something to eat; and lay-
ing my head upon the softest side of a
brick, fall into an envied slumber, dis-
turbed only by dreams of mince pies and
sweet apple-dumplings, from which I would
awake to find myself smacking my lips in
imagining the luxury, to find the reality
of a terrible pain in my back. -
So you see I left Richmond, thinking
only of something to eat, and wondering

35
whether we would get rice in New Orleans.
The sun was just setting, and its last pur-
ple ray fell upon the train of human freight
as it passed over the long bridge from
Richmond to Manchester. Soon the place
of our two months suffering was out of
sight. At dark we arrived at Petersburg,
Va., a large city on the Appomattox river,
thirty miles southeast of Richmond. Here
we were detained some time, while the train
was being drawn up a steep grade on the
road. At ten o’clock we again moved on,
and Thursday evening, September 26th,
1861, we entered Wilmington, N. C. Here
we were taken from the box cars, counted
and placed upon the wharf previous to go-
ing across the Cape Fear river. While
here it commenced to rain, and we were
compelled to sit on the wharf for an hour
while it rained pretty hard. At last we
were ordered to the boat, where we were
so crowded that we could not move—but it

36
was only for a few moments that we were
so situated. When we were across the river
we were honored by having passenger cars
furnished us. Our supper was furnished us
at a place called Rockville, and it consist-
ed, like our breakfast, of bacon filled with
maggots. Though we could not see them
in the dark, we were sure they were there,
for they had showed themselves in the
morning, and also again on Friday. On
Friday we entered the cotton fields of N.
Carolina, which, compared with those of
Georgia, are very indifferent. Early in
the afternoon we entered the region of tar,
pitch and turpentine. Everywhere the tall
pine reared its slender trunk to the height
of ninety and an hundred feet. No limbs
grace its lower part, but the top was bushy
and the long limbs stretched out many feet.
Many of these trees had been sawed for
pitch, that is, the bark had been sawed
from the side from which the sun could get

37
a fair “look at it,” as one of the boys said.
We journeyed along this plain of pines fo
over one hundred miles, having their tall
spires upon each side pointing heavenward.
Here and there we met an opening that
had been cleared, upon which to build a
log hut, and this was surrounded by burned
and stunted pines. On these clearings
some slim cornstalks were seen, giving a
pleasant relief to the scenery. These and
the cabbage stumps surrounding the log
domicils, were the only evidences we had
that they were inhabited.
For hundreds of miles we thundered
through the dull echoing pines, with only
now and then a change in the prospective,
and that was when a wild hog would
show itself rooting and grunting. As we
passed he would slightly elevate his head
in astonishment, and then continue as be-
fore to seek his food. We reached Kings-
ville the next noon, and after being paraded,
4.
38
counted and examined, we were again placed
in our car prisons and at the given signal
started off with a jolt that a sick man would
not envy. After leaving this place, the
scenery was changed. For the tall forest
pines there were the deep lagoons of South
Carolina, the beech and oak, with thick
underbrush. Here we passed through a
deep lagoon on tressel work. Far beneath
us were the tops of trees, the tallest of
which scarcely reached the track on the
tressel-work. It was a wild, and at the
same time a most magnificent prospect.
Night was fast closing in and a gloom was
spreading all around; the train passed
slowly over the tressel-work. The song of
the whippoorwill could be distinctly heard.
The hour was solemn—the scenery majestic
and grand; the stoutest heart could not
notice unmoved this sublimity of nature,
and gaze without feelings of solemn awe
into the abyss below. We were soon safely









39
over this, and as we passed along we could
catch by the moonlight, as from cloud to
cloud we enjoyed its light, glimpses of
beautiful country.
This night of car riding was destined to
cause an incident long to be remembered
by us as a good joke. The guards at our
car (four in number) fell fast asleep. Now,
thought some of the joking ones, we'll have
a bit of fun; accordingly three men left
their seats and cautiously proceeded to re-
lieve the guards of their cartridges; then
taking their muskets, rammed the car-
tridges, one after another, down their iron
throats until they would hold no more.
Just then the train slackened, and we com-
menced to cross another tressel; this was
across a heavily flooded river. The bright
moon shone out from behind the thick foli-
age and lit up the roaring river with its
silvery light, and as the deep stillness was
broken by the locomotive, reptiles were

40
heard to plunge into the stream, and birds
that had been startled were flying from
their coverts to seek safety elsewhere. One
of the boys whispered “sit down, quick.’
We obeyed as by one impulse, and we
heard a sound, as it were a deep and cut-
ting plunge, before we passed from the
bridge. The guard awoke at the noise,
muttered a few unintelligible words, and
again went to sleep. We dared not speak
for fear of again awaking them from their
slumbers. In a few moments we learned
the cause of the plunge; one of the Bull
Run Guard's musket had gone overboard;
in the morning he wondered where his
musket was. We were all obliged to get
up and be searched, but the missing article
could not be found.
“What's the matter?’’ said one of our
sleeping ones, as he was made to get up.
He was told, but being too sleepy to under-
stand, he asked again, and was told a

41
Yankee trick; the guard heard it, looked
up, and it was clearly perceptible that he
smelled a mouse. He said nothing, but,
sitting down, appeared to be lost in deep
thought—no doubt thinking how he was
sold.
We passed through many large and in-
teresting towns—Augusta, Atlanta and
others, and reached Montgomery on Sun-
day. We were placed in a large cotton
warehouse to wait until the boat which was
to convey us down the Alabama river,
should be ready to start. Many persons
came in to visit us, among whom were a
number of ladies. I got into conversation
with some who, when they left, shook me
heartily by the hand, saying, “I hope your
cause will prosper.” There was a middle
aged lady with two younger ones, who
seemed to take particular interest in me,
and I could not see the reason. At last,
as I was walking up and down the yard,
-
4*

42
they came up and shook me cordially by
the hand, at the same time saying, “What
did you join the Yankees for, to whip us?”
I was completely non-plussed, and she saw
it, and said, “what could you leave the
South for P” I assured her that I was
never in the South before, and she, very
much surprised, remarked: “O then you
ain't Mr. Wendal’s son 1’’. I said I was
not; at the same time my cheeks began to
get quite red, as a number gathered around.
She begged my pardon for taking me for
some one else, at the same time saying,
that I was as good looking as he was. As
I had no hat, having had none since leav-
ing Richmond, I got permission to go into
town with a guard to get one. In times of
peace, from what I saw there, I should un-
hesitatingly set it down to be a place of
considerable business. After returning to
camp I was called to another part of the
establishment by one of the guards with

43
whom I had made friends. I went with all
the dignity of a man having a new straw
hat, and was introduced to a young lady
of his acquaintance by the name of Clark:
and a very pretty young lady she was
She said she was a strong Southern Rights
woman, but she pitied me, for I was so
young and innocent looking ; in fact, she
hardly thought I could be so cruel as to
shoot at any one. I had a long and inter-
esting conversation with her. She liked
some of the Yankees, she said, and gave
me a proof of her affection, which tender
compliment I, in a chivalric manner, ac-
knowledged. We stopped in the warehouse
until Monday noon, when we were placed
upon the boat, and under a heavy guard
steamed away. During Sunday night we
were, on account of the cold, obliged t
build fires to keep warm. We had a re-
giment of recruits guarding us here while
the others rested. The guards who were

44
in charge of us that night bought many of
the wooden spoons we had made while in
Richmond, one of them said that he did
not know what he was fighting for, but
had always supposed that the Yankees were
coming into the South to take every farm
away from them. We informed him very
differently, stating that we were only going
to put down this rebellion; and that the
south had been misinformed by Jeff Da-
vis in regard to the Northern feeling. But
the ladies were the strongest in hatred
against us, and very frequently would they
come toward the cars, shaking their fists
at us.
Just as we got fairly started I glanced
up to the embankment, and there stood my
Southern beauty. I waved my straw hat,
for I was not the happy proprietor of a
handkerchief. My hat was seen, and a
delicate little handkerchief was spread out
in recegnition. As the boatswung around

45
in the current, the stern, where I was
perched upon a wood-pile, swung in to-
ward the shore within speaking distance.
“Don’t get sick now,” said she. I an-
swered, but it was not heard on shore. I
waved my new straw hat, and the boat
turned a bend, and Montgomery, with its
State House, disappeared, Down the river
we went, passing large plantations, culti-
wated fields, and huge forests, getting an
occasional glimpse of a large alligator as
he lay like a log close in upon the bank.
For supper that night we had our bacon
that crawled. It was fried, and the mag-
gots were in the grease and over the meat.
We were hungry, and in no time it was all
gone-grease, meat, maggots and all.
Our second meal, which did not come
until next evening, was the same, only
some of us did not get any. We were
hungry, and a darkey was sent around to
bring our meat in a pan. He started, and

46
-
we all crowded around him for our share,
each one helping himself. Sambo was so
pressed that he dropped the pan, meat and
all to the deck, and beat a hasty retreat.
We poor, hungry fellows made for it, grasp-
ing all the meat we could get. After this
we got our rations when our names were
called. The night before arriving in Mo-
bile I was standing upon the gunwales of
the boat, which were unguarded by rails.
conversing with the guard. Nearly all the
men were asleep, stowed away in every
possible nook and corner. Many were
sleeping under the boilers, when suddenly
the engineer blew off the steam. An old
man, who was sleeping under the boiler,
sprang up, half awake, and walked off the
side of the boat before it could be prevented.
The boat was immediately stopped. He
was swimming after, when one of the
guards leaned over the rail with his mus-
ket levelled, and the prisoner, thinking he

47
was going to fire, cried out, “don’t shoot,”
and dived under the water. Soon he came
up completely exhausted; he could no long-
er make his way; he cried for help. Th
boat was on the other side; all was bustle
and confusion, but to no purpose; he
drowned within a few feet of shore—and
we were passed on to Mobile as if nothing
had happened. We reached Mobile on the
morning of October 1st, 1861, landing at
Jones’ Pass; and were escorted to the M.
& O. R. R. Depot, where we again took
the box cars. We arrived in Meridian.
Mississippiat seven o'clock, P. M. Here we
were obliged to stop one day and two
nights. We had nothing to eat for supper,
and the next day the same quantity and
quality was served for breakfast. At last
we complained, and the Secesh officers
went to a log store, the only one in the
place, and impressed some molasses and
meal into the service, giving the proprietor

48
a check against the Confederate States.
One man volunteered to let us have some
sweet potatoes, which he did. At midnight
of the second day we were taken in tow by
an old engine, and started for Jackson,
Mississippi, which we entered at early dawn.
We could not get a good sight of the town
here. We changed cars and proceeded to
New Orleans. In one of the log towns
through which we passed, that of Osceola
was graced with a log hut, and bore this
strange device: “Male Seminary;” it will
hold about fifteen boys. At Manchae we
struck an inlet of Lake Ponchartrain-
Here, for miles, we passed through “Lou-
isiana low lands.” On the left was the
lake, on which we observed here and there
a sail. It was the hour of sunset; the
heavens clouded over, and soon the rain
came down in torrents. Near the city we
passed a little tavern by the railroad called
*The Poor Devil.” Just as we entered

49
New Orleans the rain slackened somewhat,
so that a crowd soon collected and followed
us to the prison. We were paraded through
the principal streets to the Parish Prison.
During our march from the depot there
was not, be it credited to them, the least
insulting remark of any kind that reached
our ears; every one looked on in silence.
It was dark when we reached the prison.
It was a dreary looking place outside, with
its port-hole windows double barred, and
with heavy iron casings. We entered the
first gate, and were counted; then we
passed through another gate, strongly
barred and guarded; then passing through
a long, dark and damp corridor, a huge
bolt was drawn, a door swung upon its
heavy hinges, and we passed into a small,
narrow yard, surrounded by a high brick
wall. The stones were wet, and we felt
the chilly dampness of the dungeon, and
wondered if we were to die there. We
5

50
were arranged in line by the jailor, and
twelve men placed in a cell. The door
grated harshly on our ears, the bolt was
pushed into its socket, and for the first
time during my imprisonment my heart
sank within me, and I gave up all hopes
of ever again seeing home. There we were,
hungry, wet, tired, and covered with mud
from head to foot. Our bed was the same
as that in Richmond, the hard pine boards.
The jailor came to the cell grating, and
asked usif we were hungry. We answered
in the affirmative, and he said we should
have some biscuits and tea. Thoughts of
warm flour biscuits flashed upon our minds.
and we thought that we would, at least.
have enough to eat. But what was our
disappointment when our biscuits proved
to be hard crackers, and our tea was made
of orange leaves. After this our door was
unlocked, and a guard with musket placed
over it to keep usin.

We arrived in New Orleans on the 4th
of October, and the four months we were
confined without seeing outside of our
dreary prison seemed very long. In the
morning we were let into the yard at half-
past seven o’clock. There were here when
we arrived two hundred and forty others,
who left Richmond a few days before we did.
The morning after we came we were ask-
ing what we got to eat, and when it came
In the morning we got a loaf of bread
that could be squeezed into a pint cup, and
one quart of orangeleaf tea. For dinner,
which we had at twelve M., we had a small
piece of tough Texas beef and a quart of
soup that had all the grease skimmed off,
by the criminals who cooked it. The soup
was called “Rice Soup,” and it was made
as follows: One half bucket of rice to nine-
ty gallons of water ; the rice being well
seasºned with worms of from half to an
inch in length. These were the ingredi-

52
-
ents, and such the quantity of soup that
was furnished to five hundred men—as
for supper we had none. At half-past three
o'clock, P. M., Dominique, one of the crim-
inals who had charge of us, would bring
from the hall door a huge bunch of keys,
and shaking them, would sing out “Git
in yer holes all yer fellers.” There always
was a stampede for the cells, for any man
found loitering would get into the dun-
geon with a ball and chain as companions.
The second Sunday after our arrival we
had preaching by an old Lawyer, the third
Sunday, by Mr. Moore, a Methodist, and
the fourth Sunday, by a man belonging to
the Episcopal church—he commenced by
praying for Jeff Davis and the Southern
Confederacy, when he was hissed he how-
ever preached his sermon, which was very
well received ; the reason, he said, of his
praying for Jeff was because his church
obliged him to do so. I would like to ask

53
if the Protestant Episcopal church compels
a minister to preach sentiments of an op-
posite party to prisoners of war? If it
does, I am glad that I can boast a denom-
ination that seeks the salvation of the souls
of prisoners of war, and not to show their
political feeling. After this clergyman's
exit we were addressed by Rev. Mr. Moore,
to whom we owe many thanks for assisting
us in our class meetings.
A few weeks after entering the jail, our
kind jailor was superceded by a creole
Frenchman who treated us like dogs, plac-
ing sixteen men in a cell ten by fourteen
feet when there was scarcely room for
twelve. In vain we expostulated with the
Captain and General Palfrey for more
room; it was denied us. At night we had
to lie spoon fashion, that is, all the same
way. The person opposite me was obliged
to occupy part of my place and I did the
same with him. Our chief amusement
5*

54
was that of making rings to sell to the
guards. We had one fellow, a Pennsyl-
vanian, who would always sell some arti-
cle or other to the most crabbed of them.
One night a terrible explosion took place;
it sounded like the firing of a heavily shot-
ted cannon, and shook the old prison to its
foundation. This fellow, when the relief
came on, began to question, “What noise
was that, guard?” “What did it sound
like?” answered the guard. “Like as
though a steamboat blowed up !” said he.
‘‘Perhaps 'twas,” said the guard. The
fellow's name was Sam Tice, and the name
of the guard I have forgotten. “Sayguard,
don't you want a nice ring,’’ said Sam.–
*No.” “O but I'll make a ring and put
names on for you, and you can give it to
the ladies.” Guard, after deep thought
said, “I’ll take six.’’ ‘‘What names,’’
said Sam, drawing the blank leaf of his
bible ready to take them. “I want initials.

55
I'll tell you. Put down L. H. for a lady.
J. O. B., “Job, all right,” said Sam-
The names were taken, and Sam dome a
dollar's worth of rings for him, and got
his pay in shinplasters. Our cell was num-
ber five, third gallery, in the assault and
battery yard of the prison. On the same
gallery, and only separated from us by a
door were women criminals.
On the morning after our arrival I was
hailed as I stood by the door, with “Say,
soldier, who are you?” “Yankees, I
answered. “What's your name?” “Annie.
What's yourn?” “Billy what are you in
for?’’ “Fighting tº “How many is there
of you?” “Five hundred" Cracious
Let me see your face?” “Can't, door's
locked.” “I’ll go down in the yard, then
you can.” “How'll I know you?” “I’ve
got two stripes on my arm, I'll go down.
then come up again.” “Well." Down
I went, she waived her handkerchief, and

56
I went up again and called at the door,
“Annie,” “Who’s there?” “Me " -
“Who’s me? I an’t Annie, but here she
comes.” “That you, two stripes?’ ‘Yes.
I want some salt, got any P’’ ‘‘Yes, wait
a moment.” Presently she tapped on the
door. “I say, two stripes, got a knife?”
*Yes,’’ ‘‘Cut this hole under the door
larger.” A Massachusetts man cut it, and
she pushed through a bag of salt; a small
one of course, then I left her talking with
some others while I went and put my salt
away. During our stay we often got par
pers from them by means of the hole un-
der the door. We also used to give them
molasses in exchange for salt. We would
take a piece of paper, make a funnel of it,
running the small end through the hole so
that it would touch a plate on the other
side, then pour the molasses in at the large
end. Thus, by exchanging, we could get
that best of all we needed, salt.

General Palfrey used to take bone jewel-
ry into the city to sell for us; and many
hundred dollars came into the prison
through the means of bones made up-
When they found out we made so much oft
of the bones found in our meat, they would
take them out before giving it to us, then
if we wanted it we must pay ten cents for
a shin bone that would make five rings.
that's the way they played the yankee with
us. One night a guard came in who said
he had lived a little while in Connecticut.
and considered himself able to trade right
smart; a man by the name of Burns, from
Oberlin, Ohio, took him in hand, showed
him some rings. The guard wanted them
but he had no omnibus tickets to pay for
them. “Haven't you got anything tº
trade?' asked Burns. “Got a good nail
of drawers,” said guard. “Give you this
-
ring for them,” showing a nice little ring
with star and crescent. “I’ll do it, said

58
guard. “Hold my musket." Burns held his
musket, belt and cartridge box while the
chivalry delivered his bargain over and took
the ring, which he placed upon his finger
º
and thought a “heap” of it, at the same
time hastily donning his garments and
equipments. “How d'ye like that,” asked
Burns, when the guard was himself again.
“Bully, but I can't trade for it.” Just then,
Burns saw some bread and meat in the
guard's pocket, and offered to trade for it.
Guard at first demurred, but at last consent-
ed and took another ring. He would not
trade any more, though. All this time we
had been looking at the guard, scarcely able
to restrain the laughter that was convulsing
us. To pass away and improve time, we
formed a Lyceum, edited a written paper
called the “New OrleansStars and Stripes.”
The news, of course, was manufactured,
except such as was gathered from the
guards by reporters.

59
Cell Number four was once locked up for
a week because the inmates refused to tell
the whereabouts of some knives that were
hid. They were not allowed to come out-
side of the door. Captain McKivers, of
the Sixty-ninth New York Volunteers wrote
a letter and headed it “Head Quarters,
Advance Guards, Union Army, Parish
Prison, New Orleans.” The General
brought it back and said, “Now, Captain,
you know that ain't so.” “Well, if it
ain’t, it will be soon," dryly replied the
Captain. Three months after, General
Butler entered the city.
One day the General came in with an old
citizen, who, seeing one of our boys at the
door with a pail, asked what he wanted,
and was told that he was waiting for a
chance to sendout for molasses. “I’ll send
you in some,” said he, and sure enough,
in a few days in came thirteen barrels of
molasses for us. It lasted one week; and

60 -
again we sent into town for it, getting how-
ever, a barrel at a time. I have often tra-
ded my loaf of bread away for some molas-
ses; a pint of molasses doing memore good
than a loaf of bread. When I would get
it I would set down and drink it like water,
and I got so used to it that I could eat a
quart without feeling any bad effects from
it. Sometimes we would get up eating
matches. A poor hungry fellow would bet
that he could eat five loaves of bread, the
one that he bet with to furnish the molas-
ses and the prisoners furnish the bread.
He would eat as much as he could, and then
stop—in this way he could for once eat all
he wanted. I have often envied such for
having enough. After being in prison a
few weeks we were searched for knives.
Some of them were saved by passing them
through under the door to the women, who
kept them until after the search was over.
Again in a few weeks we had another
search, and this time all the jack knives

61
were captured, and in their places we had
case knives; of these we made saws, and
used them to saw bones, these too were soon
taken away, and when we asked what we
should eat our meat with, we were told to
ºut it with our fingers. Soon after this a
mason came into the yard to refit the ma-
sonry, which was crumbling. He brought
some iron hoops with him, which, when we
got a chance, we confiscated for our own
use. We cut them into two inch pieces
with an old axe, then grinding them down
on the flag stones in the yard, we managed
with difficulty to cut the bone.
On the 19th of February, 1862, after en-
joying our Christmas and New Years, by
singing the Star Spangled banner, and
being locked up for it, we received clothing
from the U. S. Government. Blankets
were sent us but we got none. Two shirts
to a man were sent but we got one. We
got our share of all the other clothing.
6

62
An old man by the natue of Thomas
Welch, and who was always called by us
Uncle Tom, was put in the dungeon because
he complained of the treatment. We had
criminals of the blackest dye to take charge
of us, and one Pat Dawson, was so over-
bearing that the boys would throw old shoes
at him from the galleries. Dominique.
another one was as good, and in truth bet-
ter than we expected to find a criminal.
When we could get molasses we would
make taffy, or as it is called in New Eng-
land, Molasses Candy, and sell small pieces
of it for quarter of a loaf of bread; often
making a loaf out of a half a loaf of bread.
One night there was a fire over in Algiers,
and we of the third gallery got up on the
cell doors to see the flames, though we
could not see the houses. The Creole Cap-
tain saw us and sent the criminals up to
take the men who were fighting; we tried
to explain but it was no good, some one

63
must go to the dungeon, and two of our
boys volunteered to prevent the others from
going against their will. Captain Grois,
the Frenchman, who had charge of us, was
not only mean but unprincipled. One of
the women that was confined there, for
endeavoring to kill her husband, who had
been proven a false and perjured man, was
placed in a dungeon because she would not
yield to his base desires. She was called
the Charleston pet. She was, when we left,
nearly crazy from the treatment received at
his hands. When any one of us dared
complain he would immediately place us in
irons and order us to a filthy dungeon.
Two weeks before we left New Orleans,
on one rainy night after we had been lock-
ed in and the clock had struck twelve, we
were awakened by the criminals who came
round and double locked the cell doors.
We could not think what had happened,
and our breathing was thick and fast as we

64
waited anxiously for something to relieve
our minds, in regard to this sudden act.
A noise was soon overheard as of per-
sons running among ropes; then we thought
that the officers might have escaped, soon
we felt sure of it as the clinking of heavy
irons was heard. The dull heavy sound
of the hammer as it fastened theiron rivets,
each echoing stroke pierced our very hearts,
in fear that some of our men had tried to
escape from their living prison, and had
been caught. In vain we tried to sleep that
night. The repeated dong of the hammer
put sleep to flight, and many were the con-
jectures in regard to it. None but such as
have heard a terror striking sound at mid-
night can comprehend its solemn nature.
In the morning however, we were some-
what relieved to learn that instead of our
men it was some condemned prisoners who
had attempted to escape. They had sawed
their way out by means of saws made of

65
case knives, which Captain Grois said we
gave them. As to this I know nothing,
and we all stoutly denied it. On the first
of February, General Palfrey came into
the prison and calling us all into the yard,
informed us that we would all be sent north,
and that we would go by railroad, and that
the little dirty good-for-nothing, nasty shin-
plasters would be good-for-nothing two
miles from New Orleans. He further or-
dered us to hold ourselves in readiness to
leave at a moment's notice. At last the day
so long looked for arrived, and we were to
leave our prison. It was with truly heart-
felt joy that I marched out from the close-
ly barred gates. I shall never forget that
sixth of February in New Orleans. It was
warm and the sky cloudless. No one in
the city knew that we were going to leave
for home, or we should have been escorted
by half their citizens. As we passed one
house where some of Erin's daughters were
6*

66
up viewing us—“Shure they look better
than they did when they came,” said one.
“An why shouldn't they, when they've
got new clothes on.” The city of New Or-
leans, as is usually the case there, had its
streets filled with mud, through which we
were obliged to wade.
On reaching the depot we were unfortu-
nate enough to be compelled to stand in a
shower until the cars were ready to receive
us; as we entered them it ceased raining.
At six o'clock we left the city on our way
to the homes we so much longed to see.
under the guard of a French company.
The night we left New Orleans will never
be forgotten. All along the railroad were
crowds of women and children, shouting as
the cars passed. “Give me a ring Mr.
Yankee.” One young lady asked this
question, and getting sight of her, I could
not help giving her one, because she was
good looking, and I am partial to beauty.
- -

67
no matter whether Secesh, or Union, pro-
viding each keep in their sphere. We had
again reached the dense undergrowth that
months before I had passed through, as I
thought, for the last-time. Darkness had
set in, and the moon which had risen could
not be seen for the dense growth of trees.
How happy I felt—I sat with my elbow on
the sill of the car window, and my face
resting on the palm of my hand, gazing
upon the beauties of nature, which I had for
so long been pining to see. Everything
was lovely; and my heart fairly leaped to
my mouth as we rushed through the deep
lagoons, which looked dark and dismal. I
cannot tell what my feelings were upon
that happy evening, but let it suffice, that
it was among the very happiest moments
of my life. I little knew, that another
three months prison life awaited me. We
arrived at Jackson, Mississippi, in the
morning, and during a heavy rain changed

68
cars. We were placed in a train of miser-
able cars—the mud was ankle deep upon
the floor, so that we were obliged to sleep
standing, during the night. We left Jack-
son at night, during º heavy rain storm :
the roofs of the cars were not water-proof.
but the bottoms were ; so what water come
in at the top did not go out at the bottom.
The next morning we reached Meredian,
Mississippi, where we changed cars for Mo-
bile, Alabama. Here we learned of the
capture of Fort Henry. We left Meridian
attwoo'clock, and reached Mobilein a storm,
and were received by a squad of cavalry
who escorted us to the boat St. Charles. A
strong head wind was blowing down the
river, which prevented our leaving the
wharf that night. We were placed on a
barge in tow of the steamboat. We were
crowded together—no one getting a chance
to lay down to sleep, and that with the
cold made us feel terribly exasperated; but

69
we were going home, and willing to suffer
almost anything. I shall never forget the
three bitter cold nights we spent on board
that boat. The third night, however, we
found that we could get into the hold of
the vessel, which we did without letting
the Southerners know of our intentions;
we then took the fat pork that was used for
our rations, and whittling a few chips off
the boat we made fires on the old plates
and fried the grease out, then putting a rag
into it, lighted it and used it to warm our-
selves by. This very soon filled the hold
with a hardly bearable and nauseous gas.
On this passage we had enough to eat.
We reached Montgomery at ten o’clock on
the twelfth of February. We went into the
same old warehouse that we had been in
when going down. We did not stop long
but soon proceeded to the cars. We reach-
ed Kingsville Junction that night, and
were drawn off towards Columbia, South

70
Carolina. Then I gave up all hope of get-
ting home. At midnight of February 14th,
we were taken from the cars and marched to
a large Cotton Factory in Salisbury, North
Carolina, where we found for the first time
some bunks to lie in. For weeks we ex-
pected daily to leave for home; only wait-
ing as we were told until some more pri-
soners came, who were to go with us. One
morning, about four weeks after we arrived,
along train of prisoners came in ; they were
from Tuscaloosa, and had been taken at Bull
Run. We tried hard to see them, but in
vain. We very often got rotten pork, and
sometimes horse meat for our eating ; the
latter was good, being better, I thought,
than their beef. It is supposed as a general,
thing, that the best of everything is to be
sent to the hospital; so it was at least with
us. As usual one morning a porker was
sent over to the prisoners hospital. It was
received by our boys, who, after examining

71
it, threw it away. It was afterwards
brought back by some others who were act-
ing as Hospital stewards. An inquest was
held and poor piggy dissected. He was
completely rotten. In vain our boys tried
to get the Southern officers to look at it :
they were always too busy to attend to such
things. We used to amuse ourselves of an
evening by holding Lyceums and perform-
ing Theatrical pieces. When it was found
that we could amuse ourselves, they took
our lights away, and we had to whistle for
amusement, from which I have found since
my release, I cannot break myself. It was
really amusing on the nights of the enter-
tainment, to see the boys sliding down the
rope of the Dumb Waiter, from the floors
above. One day, after we were paroled,
we saw in the yard some ladies who had
come in to see one of their Ducks in Jeff's
army. A number of us collected at a re-
spectable distance to look on and behold

72
the wonder, we observed one pretty
young lady nudge a soldier, and in return
he gave her a hug and a twenty cent plug
of tobacco, and she took a chew such as
would astonish a veteran in the tobacco
service. We kept our smile to ourselves
until she “spit,” when we could hold in no
longer, but burst out in an old-fashioned
haw, haw. She looked up, turned up her
nose and seemed to say, “didn't you ever
see a woman chew before,” but we never
had.
We have often received bread so sour
that we could not eat it, though we had
learned to eat rotten meat. I have fre-
quently thrown my bread, after having
tried to eat it myself, to the hogs that were
in the yard, and have seen them bite it
then turn it with their nose and leave it
uneaten, as I did, reluctantly.
Day after day I have lounged near the
grated window, looking across the fields

73
which were gradually changing from the
faded hue winter wears, to that of beautiful
green ; each day I would notice the change,
the trees commenced to bud and blossom,
the forest not far distant was putting forth
its leaves in regal beauty.
Not far from the prison there was a row
of meat little houses, and regularly every
morning I saw an old and young lady issue
from one of those buildings, and proceed
to the railroad, where a large amount of
wood was stored, and take away two sticks
at a time, carrying them a great distance.
The younger seemed to be dispirited; I
afterwards learned that she was married,
and that her husband was in the Southern
army, and she was compelled to resort to
this means of procuring firewood to cook
her scanty meals. I felt a deep sympathy
for her, as I saw to what stern necessity
had driven her. We had for a monitor of
the returning days of the week some mules.
7

74
On Sunday only, the mules were in a pas-
ture near by the Factory, and it was by
this that we kept full run of the days.
We wrote home as often as possible, it
costing us each time four loaves of bread,
or in other word twenty cents. Our sheet
of miserable writing paper costing ten
cents, an envelope five, and Confederate
postage five more. Money was frequently
sent to the prisoners, and out of one hun-
dred letters not more than ten reached their
destination. One man received a letter
that had been opened and read “please
find enclosed twenty dollars,” but he look-
ed in vain for it. Others would receive
letters with money in them. In May,
1862, we devised a plan by which we hoped
to get away from the prison. Weintended
to take the muskets from the guards, march
to the depot, seize upon a train that was
there every evening, and proceed towards
Charlotte, North Carolina, and burn alarge

75
bridge near Salisbury—then commence our
march towards Raleigh, burning bridges,
felling trees and placing every obstruction
in the way of pursuers. Everything was
planned and all ready. We intended tak-
ing possession of all the eatables to be
secured in town, and have before we left,
a hungry man's meal. Starvation was the
principle thing that induced us to attempt
this escape. Three days before we were to
commence operations, Sergeant Buchanan,
who was a leader, applied to join the Se-
cesh ranks, at the same time exposed
our plans. Extra guards were placed over
us and all thoughts of getting away had to
be abandoned. One night we were sing-
ing the Star Spangled Banner, when we
were suddenly ordered to stop, thinking
the order issued from some one of our
prisoners. We had just finished the chorus
when an officer entered with a drawn revol-
wer and demanded silence, when he com-

76
menced a harrangue neither polite nor in-
teresting. He said, if we should dare sing
that song again, he'd kill and kill until he
had killed us all. At this some one of our
boys near him remarked, that the killing
game was often played by two. At this
the officer became enraged beyond measure,
and with awful curses he demanded the
man who dared to answer him to come for-
ward and deliver himself up, to go to the
guard house. “Where is that man that
said that?” he asked. “Here I am,” said
a voice from a distant corner of the room.
*Come out here,” was the next command.
“Come and get me,” was the answer.
The officer was boiling with rage. He
passed to the door, muttering that he would
have us out, and keep us standing until he
found his man. Just as he reached the
door a shot was heard, and the long roll
beat to arms. Soon the whole Rebel gar-
rison was in arms, and in confusion they

79
prison. One night one hundred of us pre-
pared to leave. I had gotten ready, when
a friend of mine, who had been gone about
an hour, returned and said that it was im-
possible to get out, as our intention was
known to the commander, Major Gibbs,
and an extra guard had been detailed with
shot guns and squirrel rifles to stop us.
Fifteen were taken and placed in a dun-
geon, without a window to admit a ray of
light. They were kept in this place two
weeks, with hardly anything to eat, and
were compelled, besides, to wear heavy
irons. A citizen of North Carolina was
arrested, and after putting irons upon him
he was placed in prison with us. Some of
our boys relieved him of his shackles, by
cutting them off with an old chisel. Ma-
jor Gibbs, being unable to find out who
did it, refused to give us anything to eat
until we told him who the person or per-
sons were that took of the irons. He kept

80
us one day without food, but no one would
tell him. He then, out of feelings of com-
mon humanity, gave us back our scanty
rations.
In Salisbury many of our men were taken
sick, and were rapidly dying. Many of
my New Orleans associates were among
the dead. Some died in the prison for
want of medical attendance. The scurvy
made its appearance among us, and it was
with difficulty that we could get even vege-
tables to eat. Irish potatoes were one cent
apiece, and, at that price, could hardly be
obtained. Clothing was sold to procure
money with which to buy them. But few
men out of the seventeen hundred were
able to walk with comfort. The hospital
was full; every one had the symptoms of
scurvy; for three days I was unable to
leave my bunk, and when I could leave, it
was with great difficulty. Leprosy was
also among us-the people of the town

81
feared a pestilence from us. A petition
was sent to Governor Clark, of North Caro-
lina, asking him to intercede for our ex-
change, or, at least, removal from that
town. Three weeks after the petition was
sent to the Governor, we signed our first
parole of honor. In one week we signed
three paroles. Whilst awaiting the order
that was to release us, we had the use of
the yard. On the twenty-eighth of May
we signed our last parole, and were sent
off in squads of two hundred each.
It was a beautiful morning, and we were
up bright and early to start on our long
wished for trip home. At six o'clock we
were ordered into line, and under guard of
a company from the fourteenth North Caro-
lina State Militia, we marched through the
streets of Salisbury to the N. C. R. R.
The town of Salisbury is quite an old
fashioned style of place even more so than
Annapolis, Maryland—if any one knows

82
how old that is. We got into the cars
near a large rum shop, where the Confed-
erates wet their whistles–Yankees were
not allowed to do so. A whistle, a jerk,
and the old cars started with us clinging to
their floors for comfort. (The following is
taken from my diary, word for word.)
“Here we are leaving Salisbury and our
den at last. The fields present a beautiful
appearance, and all nature is smiling.
Such a scene I have not witnessed for over
a year. How beautiful! Here we are
passing through a beautiful forest, where
everything shows that spring,’’—at this
point I started off in my ecstacy to write a
piece on nature, when a sudden jolt of the
cars tipped me off from my board seat into
the lap of a big German, who was just
filling his pipe for a comfortable smoke.
My sudden fall upon his lap unsettled him
and his board seat, and together we rolled
upon the floor, scattering the tobacco in

83
every direction. Our sudden seeking of
the floor unseated many others, and a nice
time we had in the dirt before we could
gather ourselves up, which we did amid a
roar of laughter from our friends who had
succeeded in keeping their seats. I was
scolded for spilling the tobacco, and also
for causing another of our number to soil
his coat. We arrived in Raleigh at four
o'clock, and after a short time proceeded
for Goldsboro. We had gone but about
sixteen miles, when our way was blockaded
by a train that was off the track—so we
were obliged to return to Raleigh. We
were delayed two hours, and they were the
longest two hours I ever spent. Whilst in
waiting a heavy rain storm came up, which
lasted for nearly an hour, as if to relieve
our impatience. It was said to be the
hardest storm that had been known in that
vicinity for years. After dark we again
started on our journey. I remember cross-

84
ing the Neuse river bridge, but after that
I commenced to be drowsy, and was think-
ing of home, and how my friends would
receive me. I had just thought that be-
cause I had been a prisoner I would not be
well received. I was thinking of something
—but no matter what—when I suddenly
found myself sprawling on the floor of the
car with a number of others. I had not
time to think before the car received a
shock like that caused by a collision, and
my poor nose was unceremoniously thrust
against a nail, which produced anything
but an agreeable feeling. Another shock,
and I was at the window, expecting to see
and feel the car turning over and over
down an embankment. All the railroad
accidents that I had ever heard of came
vividly to my recollection, and I prepared
to jump, but the car was riding safely
backward on the track. No lights could
be seen or had on the train, and they bor-

87
and the tears would come in spite of my
best efforts to keep them back. No one
but such as have had scurvy knows how it
makes a man feel when he attempts to
walk. In vain I would bite my lips to re-
strain my feelings; the tears would come
at every step. At length the captain who
had charge of us noticed me, and asked
what I was crying about. I denied that I
was crying, but told him what ailed me,
and he detailed two of the guards to assist
me. That was but little better, and many
others were, like me, afflicted and unable
to go, so we stopped and waited for a train
of cars, which soon came to our relief.
We arrived in Goldsboro' at one o’clock,
and changing cars, proceeded to Tarboro
on the Tar river. We arrived here at
dark, and after some delay marched three
miles through tangled underbrush, under
guard of a company of men who were
armed with pikes. Scarcely able to walk,

88
I was pushed forward, every now and then
falling over some unseen stump, and was
sure to be pricked with a pike if I chanced
to fall behind. At last we reached the
Court House, where we stopped for the
night. Saturday we were searched, and
everything taken from us that they wanted.
Sunday morning we were placed aboard
some flat boats, and started down the river
under tow of a rickety boat called “Colo-
nel Hill.” Tar river is a very narrow,
crooked and sluggish, though pretty stream.
The bridges all along the river were cut
away, and teams could not cross. We
reached Washington at dark. A boat
pushed out from shore with the command-
ing officers, and as they approached us we
gave three rousing cheers for our flag,
which was floating from thestern; in sickly
contrast the Secesh flag that was on our
boat seemed to cringe and cling to the
mast. We were placed aboard the boat

89
“Pilot Boy,” and taken to the blockade,
where we went aboard the steamer “East-
ern City,” or “Cossack.” We got supper,
which was relished as hungry men only
know how to relish food. We had not
before eaten a mouthful that day. We
were taken to Newbern, where we received
clothing. General Burnside soon came to
see us, and gave us a hearty welcome home.
Gillmore's band of Boston serenaded us
that evening, cheering us with some of
their splendid music. We arrived at New
York on the first of June with feelings of
gratitude not to be expressed. Though
sick in body, the heart pulsated warm and
vigorously, as only an experienced prisoner
returning from Dixie confinement knows
to appreciate.




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