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 Life of a Confederate Soldier 
 in a 
 Federal Prison 
 
 by J. B. Srnul 
 
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 Oniuer^itp of Jl3ort6 Carolina 
 
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Life of a 
 Confederate 
 Soldier in a 
 Federal Prison 
 
 J. B. ERNUL 
 
 Vanceboro, N. C. 
 1914 
 

 f~ 
 
 Life of a Confederate Soldier 
 in a Federal Prison. 
 
 By J. B. ERNUL, Vanceboro, N. C. 
 
 As the greater number of the boys 
 of '61 and '65, who donned the Gray and 
 fought for the Right as they saw the 
 right, have passed over the mysterious 
 river Styx and are at rest under the 
 shade of the Tree of Life, and those who 
 still remain must soon follow, I have de- 
 cided to write a sketch of my life as a 
 Confederate soldier. 
 
 In the spring of 1861, while the men 
 and boys were gathering at every cross- 
 road and station to enlist as soldiers to 
 drive out those who were oppressing the 
 South, I became anxious to cast my lot 
 with the rest. So I obtained the consent 
 of my parents and joined Co. I, 10th 
 N. C. Regiment, Artillery, but later on 
 was transferred to Infantry. 
 
 When not at drill the time was spent 
 in the vices of army life. A gambling 
 epidemic broke out which spread with 
 great rapidity and but few made escape 
 I saw men give half their rations to have 
 the other cooked rather than stop gaming. 
 All kinds of gambling was practiced mor- 
 ality for the time was ignored and the sol- 
 dier who endeavored to iive right was ridi- 
 
2 Life of a Confederate Soldier 
 
 culed. If caught reading his Bible, such ex- 
 pressions were heard as "Hello parson, 
 you must be scared, I don't think their 
 will be any fighting soon" or "Hello par- 
 son what time do you expect to start a 
 revival in camp." Later on, however, 
 serious thoughts of religion prevailed. 
 When the shot and shell began to whiz by 
 them, splintering rails and tearing off 
 tree tops, with comrades falling around, 
 they began to realize the great need of 
 religion. One good battery with a good 
 supply of garpe and shell, holding an 
 elevated position could bring hard 
 hearted sinners to repentance. It did 
 not require a dozen old sisters with their 
 turkey wings begging them to repent of 
 their sins, They were truly good then 
 but the great trouble was in keeping them 
 so. If his life was spared the sacred res- 
 olution would not be long remembered. 
 This order of things lasted only a few days, 
 however, when some fellow would slip 
 around to the Sutler tent and purchase 
 a new deck of cards, return to his quar- 
 ters, pick up an oilcloth and spread it 
 on the ground, open up his new deck 
 and begin to shuffle. Some three or four 
 others would step up and a regular game 
 of seven up or draw poker would begin. 
 In less than a week the Bible reader would 
 be a thing of the past, when gambling 
 would go on as before and would not stop 
 
in a Federal Prison 3 
 
 until the next signal for a fight was heard 
 in the front, when the same unloading 
 would take place with gambling goods. 
 
 On the 14th of March, 1862, I got my 
 first experience in real war, but as I am 
 writing mainly of my life in prison camp, 
 Point Lookout, and how I was captured 
 by a Yankee, I'll go back to March 7, 1865. 
 
 It was reported that Schoefield's Ar- 
 my Corps was advancing. We marched to 
 a creek to investigate and found the 
 enemy in full view. They shelled us 
 pretty lively all that evening, but made 
 no attempt to charge. Our commanding 
 officer decided that we had better get in 
 their rear. So we started to the rear of 
 the "Yanks" about an hour before day 
 to play tag with them for a spell. We 
 found them about sunrise and were re- 
 ceived right warmly. After much tag- 
 ging on both sides, the "Yanks" gave 
 way and we captured some two or three 
 thousand of them. I was wounded in 
 my leg, and seeing a pool of water I 
 thought I would bathe my leg and stop 
 the blood. While busily engaged with 
 my work, up poked a "Yank" and said, 
 "Johnny, you are mine, come with me 
 and I will take you to a summer resort, 
 we have room enough for you all." We 
 went to his General's headquarters, when 
 we arrived an aide went in the tent and 
 the general came out, made a slight bow 
 
Life of a Confederate Soldier 
 
 and I saluted him. He asked me many 
 questions concerning the troops in his 
 rear, then asked me if my leg was pain- 
 ful, called a doctor who examined my 
 wound and said there were small pieces 
 of bone in the wound which made am- 
 putation necessary. I noticed a "Yank" 
 standing near who winked at me, came 
 closer and whispered, "Don't let that 
 
 d — butcher take your leg off." I 
 
 was then told to take off my equipments. 
 They took my belt, at which I objected, 
 I told the general if I were going to a 
 summer resort there might be ladies 
 there, and I could not make a very ad- 
 mirable appearance holding my pants 
 up w r ith both hands. The general then 
 told a soldier to give me my belt. The 
 firing them began near us, I was thrown 
 on a horse and all moved off lively for a 
 mile or so. We came to a place where 
 some "Yanks" were cooking and eating. 
 We prisoners were dismounted and were 
 treated very kindly by our captors. The 
 next morning there were seven more 
 prisoners brought into camp, I think 
 they were Georgians, and not slow on 
 the eating line either. I heard some of 
 the Yankees say that " If all the John- 
 nies were as good fighters as they were 
 eaters, Schofield had better retreat 
 lively." 
 
 We lay around for a short time with 
 
in a Federal Prison 5 
 
 the "Yanks", eating and playing cards. 
 Their food became scarce, then our 
 troubles began. We were put on board 
 a transport and started for the"summer 
 resort." There were about eight hundred 
 of us prisoners. After we had gotten 
 out to sea they began to issue rations of 
 raw pickled beef and hard tack to us of 
 which we all ate heartily. The sea was 
 awfully rough, ' the waves rolling high 
 and soon it was very evident that al- 
 most every prisoner was suffering dread- 
 fully with seasickness, while their cries 
 for water were pitiable to hear. After 
 several days we arrived at out "summer 
 resort." We were taken from the barge 
 to the headquarters of the officers. 
 There were many ladies present, I sup- 
 pose they were members of the officers' 
 families. I saw some of the ladies 
 
 pointing at us and remarking, I suppose 
 about our appearances. Some of us 
 were barefooted, others without hats, 
 while our pants were worn off on the 
 bosoms and knees, the tails were heavi- 
 ly fringed denoting long and hard ser- 
 vice. We were required to give our 
 names and commands, names of States 
 from which we came, after which we 
 were marched to the "bull pen". On 
 the way to the pen I saw a big pile of 
 coffins and wondered what they could do 
 with so many. I found out later We 
 
6 Life of a Confederate Soldier 
 
 got to the gate. It was thrown open and 
 we marched in. Things were looking 
 bad to me. The prisoners were placed in 
 tents from eight to ten to the tent, with 
 no other bedding but our clothes. The 
 next morning we drew meat. I thought 
 at the time it was rather small for a 
 meal, but found out it was to last all 
 day. At ten o'clock, we drew one-half 
 loaf of bread (half loaf to each man) 
 and one pint of soup. As we were all 
 sick the rations did very well for a while. 
 On Saturday each man drew a loaf of 
 bread to last until Monday. I carefully 
 hid half of my first loaf, I thought in a 
 safe place, but when I went for it Sunday 
 it was gone. No one can imagine my disap- 
 piontment at my loss. I feel sure that 
 my bread was not stolen by a Confederate 
 for they did not steal (one might have 
 borrowed it) and though I felt hard to- 
 wards who ever got it then, I have for- 
 given him since, if he were a Confederate 
 and only borrowed it. After that first 
 Sunday I hid no more bread but put it 
 where friends could not borrow it, nor 
 thieves could steal it. I spent Sun- 
 days in fasting and prayer, and in watch- 
 ing the negro guard marching around 
 in white paper collars and white gloves, 
 which made them appear more hate- 
 ful to us. I heard some Texans say 
 
in a Federal Prison 7 
 
 "Those black sons of perdiction are 
 afraid of getting sunburnt." 
 
 After I had been in prison a few days 
 I began to suffer from hunger. I saw 
 some of the boys eating broiled rats, 
 they smelled very appetizing, but I 
 could not get any to eat. I decided 
 that I must either find something to eat 
 or starve; on looking about I saw some 
 oats or rye growing beyond the dead 
 line, knowing that it was death to be 
 caught beyond _ the death line, I waited 
 until dark to venture out for some of the 
 grain. I thought I could make soup of the 
 grain, I got a turn of it, came back 
 and put it onto boil. The longer it boiled 
 the tougher it became and the less fit it 
 was to eat, so I gave up trying to find 
 more to eat than my captors pleased to 
 give me. 
 
 While walking about one day I acci- 
 dently passed the guard at the hospital 
 gate. Passing through the wards down 
 to the dead house I saw thirty or forty 
 of the poorest objects I had ever seen 
 before. There were two that looked rath- 
 er fleshy. Seeing a fellow standing near 
 I thought I'd ask some questions, so be- 
 gan: "How long have you been here, 
 brother?" "Eight months," he replied. 
 "Of what kind of sickness did those 
 men die?" He replied, "They starved 
 to death." "What killed those fleshy 
 
8 Life of a Confederate Soldier 
 
 ones?" "They got drowned diving in- 
 to the soup kettle for beans." They 
 were cooks, he said. I then asked him 
 if he thought there was any chance for 
 me to get cook's place that I would galdly 
 work all day and part of the night to 
 keep from starving. He shook his head 
 and walked off. I passed on disgusted 
 with all I had seen. 
 
 Now I am coming to the toughest 
 thing I had ever struck. After leaving 
 the dead house I came to the guard. He 
 told me to halt. I told him that I be- 
 longed to the other side and must go. 
 Holding his gun up so that I could see 
 down its barrel, he said, "That ball is 
 whirling fast, it wants to get out." He 
 then called a white man, who came and 
 talked to me awhile, and then said, 
 "You need some jewelry, something like 
 a twelve pound ball and chain." Oh! 
 horror of horrors, if any of my piney- 
 woods friends would have heard me then. 
 But my pleadings were all in vain. I sat 
 down and received the jewelry. I sat 
 there for a while thinking. I can't ex- 
 press how badly I felt — can't remember 
 a time when I felt worse. I felt ever 
 so much better a few years later when 
 I asked my girl a civil question and got 
 the right answer. I finally concluded, 
 
 that as long as that d ball and 
 
 cham must be my constant torment fov 
 
in a Federal Prison 9 
 
 a while at least, I had just as well move 
 off with it, so I gathered it up and went 
 to my tent. The boys just gazed at me 
 
 when I threw the d thing on the 
 
 ground in my tent. My bunk mate 
 asked me what had happened, and I 
 gave them the whole story. After I had 
 told him all about it, my bunk mate said 
 "That darn thing will » give you more 
 trouble than twins ever gave their moth- 
 er at night." I don't think he missed 
 it far either. If possible I think my 
 jewelry gave me more trouble at night 
 when the Jerusalem overtakers were on 
 strictest duty. I began to notice that 
 those who had been wearing a ball and 
 chain were not wearing them any more, 
 so I began inquiring and learned that 
 there was a person in camp who had a 
 file and would file a ball and chain off 
 for a chew of tobacco, I found him and 
 had soon concluded a bargain. The gate 
 on the bay stayed open during the day 
 time. Anyone noticing would have seen 
 me going toward the end of the wharf 
 carrying my haversack, but only one 
 person knew what it contained. That 
 ball and chain is now resting on the 
 bottom of Chesapeake Bay. 
 
 The greatest difficulty in prison was 
 the necessity of getting through the first 
 few days with nothing to do. These 
 hours dragged slowly. Some were able 
 
10 Life of a Confederate Soldier 
 
 to pass a great number in sleeping. 
 Those of less nerve slept fifteen or more 
 hours, but others found such indulgence 
 impossible and were forced to seek other 
 methods of enduring the tiresome days 
 and nights. 
 
 There were some very amusing things 
 happened in camp. Now to think of 
 such as toting barrels and boxes every 
 day, but to see thousands of the boys on 
 a fair evening with their shirts off hunting 
 the seams for — -we know what — so they u 
 might get a little rest, for the Jerusalem 
 overtakers were very bad and a bit sharp. 
 
 One amusing feature of prison life 
 was a barber who would daily walk 
 through the camp and repeat, "Here 
 goes your good old Tar Heel barber, will 
 shave you for a chew of tobacco. If any- 
 one will shave you cheaper, I'll give you 
 a chew to let me shave you." 
 
 In prison camp I belonged to Com- 
 pany I, Sixth Division, near the big cross 
 ditch. 
 
 On the 11th of June, 1865 a notice was 
 put on the bulletin board that all the 
 prisoners were to be discharged. This 
 notice brought forth the most joyous 
 yells I had heard in months. About 
 twenty thousand men and boys made a 
 rush for the gate. Each man gave his 
 name, company, regiment and State, 
 the same as when he entered prison, 
 
in a Federal Prison 1 1 
 
 then received his discharge. My name 
 happened to be among the first called. I 
 think I smiled for the first time in 
 months. I gave my name, company, 
 regiment and State, took the oath and 
 received my parole, which I still have. 
 We were put aboard a boat about dark 
 and started for Richmond, Va. We 
 arrived in Richmond about 4 p.m. The 
 next day we got off the boat and the 
 guard told us to move on. As we did 
 not at first know which way to move, 
 there was a little confusion. We were 
 given permission to camp in the Capitol 
 square until we could get transportation 
 home. While passing Libby prison a 
 Yankee called to me and said, "Johnnie, 
 don't you want some boiled pork and 
 hard tack?" I smiled or tried to smile 
 an answer. He gave me about two 
 pounds of pork and filled my haversack 
 with hard tack. I am sure that Yankee's 
 heart was in the right place and believe 
 he will get his reward for passing "the 
 cup of water." I had gathered up a lot 
 of cigar stumps on my way to camp, so 
 I ate pork and hardtack and chewed and 
 smoked cigar stumps nearly all at the 
 same time. I slept well that night. 
 
 We got transportation by way of Dan- 
 ville, Va., Greensboro, N. C, Raleigh, 
 N. C, and New Bern, N C. The next 
 
12 Life of a Confederate Soldier 
 
 day after we reached New Bern I got to 
 my home, June 23d, 1865. 
 
 Well, it is all over now, and I do not 
 feel unkindly toward the Northern sol- 
 dier who fought because he felt it his 
 duty to fight. We only differed in opin- 
 ion. Some one is to blame though 
 for placing black, ignorant brutes as 
 guards over Confederate prisoners. I 
 don't think there are many of those 
 prisoners who can forgive and forget 
 that much of the past. I can't under- 
 stand who or why any Southern white 
 man can vote any ticket except the 
 Democratic ticket today. It seems to 
 me that there must be something wrong 
 in the upper-story of the Republican 
 voters of the South. But that too, is, I 
 suppose, just a difference in opinions. 
 
$ r 2- Z 
 
UNIVERSITY OF N.C. AT CHAPEL HILL 
 
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