CHAPTER IX.

Entrance into Belle Island Prison Pen.

On Sept. 30, 1863, we arrived on Belle Island, which is located in the James River, in front and a little above Richmond, Va., then the capital of the Southern Confederacy. The train stopped on the south side of the river and we were ordered to alight and were conducted down to the bridge and across it to the island. The Confederate iron works were located on the island, near the bridge, it was now getting dark and as we passed them they seemed to be all aglow from the light of the fires within, and one of the boys remarked in a joking way: “Here are the iron works, and the next place will be h——l.” I guess the prison pen on the island, into which we were placed a few moments later, about filled the bill.

We soon arrived at the place where we were to be confined, and found it to consist of several acres of ground, surrounded by a ditch about two feet deep and three feet wide, with the soil thrown up on the outside, which formed the dead-line. Outside of this the guards paced back and forth. Any person stepping upon this line would be shot down without a moment’s warning. There were 7,000 or 8,000 prisoners confined on this small area of ground. Nearly one-half of them were without any shelter whatever, and many had no blankets or overcoats.

We arrived at our new quarters in the evening, and after partaking of a scanty meal looked about for a spot large enough to lie down upon to sleep. I found a place that reminded me of the garden beds we used to make at home, it being slightly raised, with a path around it. Probably this had been made by some of the prisoners, to keep the water off in case of heavy rains. We now made preparations to retire, which were very simple. As many as could crowd upon this small space of ground lay down, in spoon fashion; that is, all lying with our faces turned in the same direction, and fitted together as one would spoons in packing them away, in order to have sufficient room and keep as warm as possible. We had nothing under us except the cold, bare earth, and nothing over us except a pup tent (a piece of muslin six feet square) and the blue sky, which was rather light covering. We had advantages on the island in some respects that we did not possess at home, we were not obliged to open the windows to air our beds. My outfit of clothing consisted of shirt, pants, cavalry jacket, boots and hat. I used my hat in place of a nightcap, to keep my head from coming in contact with the ground. I generally felt quite chilly during the night, and did not sleep soundly. Got up in the morning and found that the surroundings looked very discouraging. Did not see a soul that I knew, but saw many prisoners, some of whom had been confined here for months. These appeared ragged, dirty, and discouraged to the last degree. Rations were very small, and we were hungry continually, but had plenty of river water to drink. From Belle Isle a fairly good view of the city of Richmond was had. We could plainly see a building in which Jefferson Davis, the president of the Southern Confederacy, resided, and also some of the large brick buildings in which were confined many Union soldiers. The famous Libby Prison, in which was a large number of Federal officers, stood very close to the James River, in plain view from the island.

I remained here six days, and was then transferred to the city of Richmond. On arriving there I, in company with other prisoners, entered Libby Prison through the wide door at the northwest corner of the building.

We were introduced into Libby for the purpose of being searched, were formed into line, and then the search commenced. It was bossed by a man named Dick Turner. We were closely searched, and everything of value taken from us and confiscated. I possessed but very little property at that time. A two dollar greenback and a one dollar Confederate bill was all the money in my possession. I had also an old dilapidated pocketbook, but it was of no value and therefore was not confiscated. My two dollar greenback they were unable to find. I bought bread with it later on. Bread sold at enormous prices, and a man could easily eat in one day what he could buy for a dollar greenback.

From Libby we were transferred to and confined in a large four-story brick building, called the Smith Prison. It had formerly been used as a tobacco factory, but was now a prison for Federal soldiers. I was confined on the third floor, with about three hundred other prisoners. This was a large room, but after lying down at night the floor was about covered with men. There was scarcely room enough for a person to walk through between the rows of men. Here we were well sheltered, but suffered another extreme, being nearly suffocated on account of not having proper ventilation; not even being allowed to open a window wide enough to admit sufficient fresh air to supply the number of prisoners within.

One day while I was standing near a window, two of my comrades stepped upon the window sill and pulled the window slightly down, to admit some fresh air; when immediately a shot was fired by the guard outside. The ball passed through the window at an angle of about thirty degrees, fortunately missed the boys who opened the window, but passed up through the floor above us, which also contained a large number of prisoners, and unfortunately the ball passed through one of them, severely wounding him. He was carried downstairs, passing through our room, and outside, I suppose to some hospital.

There were about three hundred of us confined within this room, for a term of about two months, and during all that time we were hardly allowed to draw a breath of fresh air. What I mean by this is, air that was not contaminated by the foul air of the prison. This and starvation, together, weakened us to an alarming degree. Our rations were issued once a day, and we generally devoured them at one meal, and still felt hungry. It was really just enough to make one meal a day. The order to draw rations generally came in the following manner. The Confederate orderly would enter the room and cry out: “Sargin ob de floor, four men and four blankets.” This announcement in the southern dialect soon became a proverb among the boys. The “sargin ob de floor” would then detail four men and four blankets (blankets were a scarce article but generally enough were found to carry the rations) to carry the rations to our room. They would hasten down the stairs, and then those left behind anxiously crowded around the windows, pale, hungry, and each one eager to catch the first glimpse of the returning four men and four blankets with the morsel of bread, and soup (the soup being carried in buckets). This was composed of small beans, some being black and others red, and nearly every one was hollow and contained several black bugs enclosed, with hard shells. When the beans were boiled the bugs separated from them, and became mixed all through the soup, and while eating it we were obliged to grind the bugs between our teeth, which made me think of chewing parched corn or grinding coffee. The ingredients of the soup except the beans and bugs were unknown to us. Some declared that there was mule meat in it, judging from the bones found in the soup. I was almost famished for a meat diet, but did not care to have it in bug form. The bread rations consisted of brown bread, which tasted good to me, but we could not tell of what it was composed. The quantity was so small that it failed to satisfy our hunger. Part of the time while in this building we received corn-bread instead of the brown bread, and occasionally a small piece of meat, the quantity being too small to be mentioned. The soup was named by some of the men “bug soup,” and it was a very appropriate name, as the bugs seemed to make the biggest show.

Our beds consisted of the bare floor. For covering I had my indispensable pup tent. We remained in this building during the months of October and November, and during that time there was no fire in the room, but any quantity of foul air, which at times was so terrible that I believe it was poison to us. The closet was located at or in one corner of the room. It was nothing more than a space about six or eight feet in length and several feet wide, and extended down to the basement to the depth of twenty or twenty-five feet. It was enclosed on three sides, and the side which opened into our room or prison had no door. It remained open all the time that we were confined in this place. I do not know whether there was sufficient water at the bottom of the closet to carry away all the refuse or not, but by what we saw I think not. The condition of the atmosphere was simply horrible beyond description. At times it seemed as if we would certainly suffocate. In this condition about three hundred of us lived, slept, and dined, for a period of about two months in the room just mentioned. We usually became quite chilly during the night, while lying on the cold floor. Our clothing was thin, as we were captured during warm weather and therefore were not prepared for winter.

While in the Smith Prison I formed an acquaintance with a number of the boys, with whom many good talks were enjoyed about our homes and friends so far away, and those we had left several years before, perhaps never to see again. My most intimate friend while there was a “Doc.” Davis who belonged I think to the 55th Indiana Infantry. Davis and I bunked together, as we called it. Each possessed a pup tent, which we doubled for a covering at night. Davis was not feeling well here. He would arise in the morning, sometimes groaning with pain, caused by lying on the cold, hard floor all night. He died soon after his return from prison.

I also formed acquaintance with a man named Scott, and another named Seaman, both members of the 21st Wisconsin, and very fine boys they were. Both of them died in prison. We nightly dreamed of getting something good to eat, for this idea was uppermost in our minds, and we were constantly reminded of it by the gnawing hunger endured. Many times I dreamed of being at home and eating of the luxuries to be found there. Oh, what a disappointment on awaking from such happy dreams, to find myself in such a wretched condition as we were. Many of the men soon became weak and disabled, from the poisonous atmosphere created by the breathing of the several hundred men confined here, and the horrid stench from the closet. The starvation and feeling of utter despair to which they gave way was also a factor. They became so emaciated that many were unable to stand up during roll call. This was usually called once a day by a spry little man named Ross. The boys named him “Jack of Clubs.” I well remember his countenance. Whenever he came in to call the roll, and any of the boys did not get up quick enough to suit him, he would go to them and abuse them in a brutal manner. Those who were sick and unable to rise he frequently left for days and weeks before reporting to the hospital. He always came in accompanied by a large man, carrying an old musket barrel in his hand. Three or four guards also accompanied him. The man with the musket barrel generally helped to get the boys in line by cuffing them. Roll call took place early in the day, after which we would begin “skirmishing for graybacks” (as we called it) of which we all had a good supply.

This occupation helped us to pass away some of the long, tedious hours of our confinement. Some perhaps do not understand what is meant by the word “grayback,” which I will now explain. A grayback is a small, carnivorous insect—or plainly speaking a louse—which infests the inner garments of a person who is unable to change his clothing frequently, which was the case with us in the prisons. In fact we never changed our garments while in prison. It was not stylish to do so, and if it had been we could not, as we possessed only what we had on our backs and they changed themselves. Some were obliged to wear their shirts until they literally wore off, or were kicked to pieces by the graybacks and fell from their backs. I will now explain what is meant by skirmishing. It was taking off our shirts, turning them inside out, and carefully searching for and killing the graybacks, which were sometimes very numerous, and tormented us in such a way at night that we were scarcely able to sleep.

The mode of killing these graybacks was as follows: As stated before, the garment was turned inside out, and then the game was soon found, overtaken and slain. Our weapons consisted of our thumb nails. The hands were placed near each other in about the position that a person would hold them when knitting with knitting needles, with the upper part of the thumb nails nearly touching. When in operation the movement of the hands was about the same as it would be when knitting. This work might properly have been called “knitting,”because nits were more numerous than graybacks. In the work mentioned above the results depended upon the amount of labor performed; the faster we worked the more we accomplished. These pests had become so numerous that it was all a well man could do to keep them within a reasonable limit. These miserable tormenters were always hungry like ourselves, because they had poor pasture feeding on our bodies. Sometimes when things in prison were reasonably quiet many of those insects would venture out on the vacant spaces of the floor, and it was amusing to us boys to watch their maneuvers. A number of us would sometimes be sitting in a row on the floor, with our backs to the wall, and suddenly our attention would be turned to a number of these pests in groups about the floor. Of course the boys would make remarks about their performance. Some would say: “Hello, the graybacks are going on dress parade.” Others declared they were foraging parties, looking for provisions, and would call out: “Look out, boys, they are looking you fellows over to find out which one of you has any meat left on him, and then they will go for you.”Those men who were weak and helpless were nearly eaten alive by these millions of parasites. It did not seem unreasonable when one of the men declared that he had seen a dead man with quarts of graybacks upon him. No doubt but that the days of these poor sick boys were materially shortened by these insects.

I used my boots for a pillow at night, while trying to sleep, by placing them together in a way that would locate the most congenial part of the boots next to and in contact with my head. I found a contrast between my pillow and one composed of good goose feathers, but the boot pillow was a decided improvement over the hard floor, and it was also the best that could be done under the circumstances, as we could get no rubbish of any kind to place under our heads, and I did not dare to take off my jacket to use as a pillow, or I would have chilled. The boot pillow was a severe test on the phrenological organs of the head. Some of my comrades feared that we might receive fatal injuries from the effects of our hard pillows, and others allowed that it would improve our fighting qualities by an enlargement of that organ. I was not the only one who endured the pangs of a hard pillow. Nearly or quite all suffered the same, in common. There was no partiality shown in this; the hardships were as free as water for all, and the hard pillow was not the only torture, when we tried to sleep in the Smith Prison. As I stated before, our clothing was thin, and what meat was left on us also thin. And when lying on the hard floor at night, trying to sleep, it seemed as if our bones were determined to punch holes through our grayback-eaten hides. Some thought if we ever got out of prison Uncle Sam would be obliged to patch us up, like a person would patch an old torn garment.

My opinion was that there would be but very few of us left that would be worth patching after the Southern Confederacy was through with us, and I think now that I was correct. No person can comprehend the extent of the intense suffering endured by the men in prison except those who were confined in them. We suffered a dozen things at the same time, that made us miserable. They occur to me as follows: Starvation, cold, bad ventilation, tormented by graybacks, filthy clothing, no opportunity for bathing, bad sanitation, close confinement, food of poor quality, soreness caused by sleeping on the bare floor, the sight of so much misery all about us, and the thought of being domineered over by a cruel keeper. I had the pleasure (?) of enjoying (?) with hundreds of other comrades all the hardships just mentioned, which was a great combination of torments and as I thought a severe dose.

Trading with the guards became an extensive business considering the amount of capital invested. Capital with us was very small, on account of our having been closely searched by the Confederates before entering prison. All money and valuables that could be found on our persons were confiscated, but they were unable to find all the greenbacks that the boys had hidden in their clothing in various ways.

When starvation began to take effect they used this money to purchase bread from the guards, at enormous prices. Some of the guards were very clever fellows, and would do favors for us when the officers were not about. Sometimes they furnished us with the Richmond papers, which was against the orders of the Confederacy. Thereby we were enabled to get a little of the outside news.

Sometime in November we received some rations from Uncle Sam, which were sent through the Confederate lines to us. This partly supplied us for about a week, after which we received no more during our imprisonment. Some days later I read an order in a Richmond paper as follows: “No more rations or clothing shall be allowed to come through the Confederate lines to prisoners of war in our possession.”Signed by those in authority in the Confederate government. They claimed that it was a disgrace for them to allow our government to feed us. The famous Confederate commander of cavalry, John Morgan, came into our prison one day in November. He seemed to be looking for some person or persons, as he passed through the room, but I never heard whether he found the one he was searching for. I well remember his looking us over very closely.

An Ohio boy, whose name I cannot recall, did some trading with the guards with the intention of procuring a Confederate uniform. The place where the trading was usually done was at the foot of the lower stairway, where a door opened into a reception room, which also had a door opening into the street or on to the sidewalk. A guard was stationed at the foot of the stairway, and another at the door which opened from this room into the street. This constituted a double guard.

A number of Confederates who were not on duty would enter this room, bringing with them some articles of food, and any prisoner who was fortunate enough to have some greenbacks could purchase, at enormous prices. This Ohio boy, mentioned, first traded for a Confederate cap, next a coat, and third, a pair of pants which were of the grey Confederate uniform. He did not procure them all the same day. He brought them upstairs into our room and took off his blue suit and put on the grey. He then walked down the stairway and commenced trading with the Confederates who were standing about the room. While they were busy trading he passed the inner guard and into the reception room unnoticed, and then walked leisurely about the room, talking to the Confederates, not being particularly noticed by them, and finally walked past the outer guard into the street. The guards no doubt supposed him to be one of their own men on account of his being dressed in a grey uniform. He walked leisurely up the street to a bakery, where he purchased some bread, and then retraced his steps, walking back past our prison, which was the last time we saw him Some time later we learned that he had made his escape to the Union lines. He certainly was a shrewd boy.