Part 6

I went back to my room, giving up the idea of getting away then. Some things I had sent for had not arrived, so I was disappointed in more than one respect, and was about settling myself down, when Adamson called out to me--“Get your things and come on.” I hurried down, and when I passed out the prisoners were in front of Duff Green’s Row. Littlepage, Keleher, Holbrook and Hoyle, poor fellows, looked lonely enough when we left them.

After receiving the prisoners from Carroll Prison, the cavalcade moved on past the Capitol and through the streets, to the foot of Sixth Street, where a crowd of ladies were waiting and bade us adieu, waving their handkerchiefs in spite of all protests from the guards, who at last drove them from the wharf at the point of the bayonet.

We were then put on board the flag-of-truce boat, the steamer _State of Maine_, and left the city at night. About seven or eight o’clock, bread, crackers and cheese were given out to the prisoners--some got a good share, while others were served with three soda crackers each. This was the first food given us since breakfast in the Old Capitol. In the effort to get the prisoners off we failed to get any dinner, although we left the prison fully three or four hours after the regular dinner hour.

Six of us secured three staterooms by paying $1, each for the trip. Here we were very comfortable, with good berths, etc. Many who were not so fortunate had to sleep on the floor or on trunks, boxes, or anything they could find handy.

It was an agreeable change when we were once on board the steamer. To be where no guards with bristling bayonets were continually meeting you to remind you that you were a prisoner. Where no sentinel challenged you at every turn. With no one calling after you if you made a false move or deviated in the slightest from prison discipline.

_Friday, March 27._--Awoke about eight or nine o’clock this morning--our boat was steaming down the Potomac River, Westmoreland County, Virginia, on the one side, and St. Mary’s County, Maryland, on the other. Breakfast was over, but Wright brought me some bread and sausage. In the rush for dinner I had my coat-tail torn off and was pretty well shaken up.

This afternoon we anchored off Fortress Monroe. At night half a dozen prisoners were brought over to the steamer from the fortress. They have been at the fort for a week. They are from the West--some Morgan’s men.

I saw Captain Darling making a bed for himself on a hard bench and invited him to share my stateroom, which he did. He said he had a very high opinion of the patriotism of the citizens of Washington, particularly the ladies, and spoke with warmth of the parting scene at the wharf, where the Federal guards brought their guns to a charge on the ladies and drove them off.

_Saturday, March 28._--Awoke about seven o’clock. Still at anchor between Fortress Monroe and the Rip Raps. Two English war ships anchored off in the Roads. Many of our company are complaining of seasickness. I felt a little dizzy and weak before breakfast, but went below and got a cup of coffee, a slice of bread and a piece of fat pork. After eating this I felt better. Sea quite high for some time. A heavy rain storm came up about ten o’clock, with thunder and lightning. The water then became calmer but the rain continued.

At 12:45 the captain came over from Fortress Monroe and we started from the anchorage in the midst of a heavy rain. The guard here left us, good-naturedly bidding us good-bye and hoping to meet us soon in more peaceful times. They were of Company K, Third New York Regiment, and were on the best of terms with us during the trip.

When opposite Newport News, saw the wrecks of the United States frigates _Cumberland_ and _Congress_, sunk in the fight with the Confederate iron-clad _Virginia_ (_Merrimac_),[H] on the 8th of March, 1862. A portion of one mast only of the _Congress_ being visible, while we could see parts of three masts of the _Cumberland_ and a part of the bowsprit above the water. They were but a short distance from the shore, off the point. A little beyond we saw the United States steamer _Minnesota_ and two other vessels, ironclads, and a little farther off the _Monitor_ lay floating at ease.

Hundreds of sea-gulls hovered around our boat, circling overhead, occasionally stopping in their flight and beating the air with their wings, then floating along like a boat on smooth water, darting down now and then, attracted by the pieces of bread and scraps of food thrown into the water by the men on board, all the while uttering a peculiar cry resembling the creaking of an old wagon wheel in need of oiling. A man on the lower deck threw a piece of coal into the flock which struck one of the birds, apparently breaking a wing, as it fell over into the water, helpless. The rest of the flock ceased following us and gathered round their wounded companion, who lay on top of the water. They fluttered around him, chattering and seemingly endeavoring to aid or save him. Soon, however, they again gathered around us and seemed to forget their loss in their efforts to catch the tempting morsels thrown to them from the boat.

How rudely cut off from life. How soon forgotten, poor bird. But how like man the conduct of these birds. A poor mortal is stricken down in the midst of his cares and his enjoyments. Friends and relatives cluster about him and pour forth their lamentations. But how soon does their grief wear off, and they are carried away in the whirl of excitement of the giddy, thoughtless world, and all is forgotten.

A guard-boat hailed us, and the captain in reply said that we were going to City Point with five hundred Confederate prisoners, for exchange. “All right,” was the answer from the guard-boat. Two hundred and forty prisoners were brought to the Old Capitol the night before we left, and we left there with four hundred and eighty-eight.

I lay down and took a nap in the afternoon. When I awoke the rain had ceased, but the clouds hung lowering overhead and the muttering thunder was sullenly giving out angry growls.

We were then in the James River, and passing in sight of Jamestown, the first settlement in Virginia. There are no houses on the island. The brick walls of one of the old houses and chimneys of two outhouses are in sight. These were destroyed by the Union troops. We could also see the remains of the batteries erected by the Confederates. An old church tower is all that remains of a church built in Colonial times.

A colored boy came to our stateroom and said if we wished to keep it we should come down to the clerk’s office and re-engage it. Wright said he would like to keep it, but had no money. I sent down a bill and paid for the room for the night. After sundown it cleared off beautifully, and the sky was bright and clear. Our boat anchored in mid-stream, with a white flag at the fore and the United States flag flying at the peak.

_Sunday, March 29._--When I awoke this morning the boat was steaming up the James River, a little below the mouth of the Chickahominy River. We soon came to Westover, originally the residence of Colonel William Byrd, who was in his day one of the most accomplished gentlemen in the Colony, and Westover was noted for the magnificence of the buildings, the beauty of the situation and the charms of its society. Next came Harrison’s Landing, a place made memorable by the retreat of McClellan’s army from before Richmond, after the seven days’ fight. From this point it was but a short run to City Point, where we cast anchor in the stream opposite the landing.

Here we were gladdened by the sight of a small Confederate flag waving from a house on a bluff opposite, and at the landing a sentinel in Confederate gray paced up and down. A few soldiers appeared on a hill near by, and some distance above City Point we could see flags waving--first white and then red. This was a signal station. One of our men had been in the Signal Service and he explained its workings to us. Captain John E. Mulford, United States Agent of Exchange, went ashore in a boat and soon after returned and said the Confederate authorities had been notified of our arrival and we would be sent off as soon as they came down for us.

Last night there were no rations given out, and this morning we got nothing but a piece of fat pork and a slice of bread--no coffee. Meals were served up on the boat at 50 cents a head.

About 4 P.M. the anchor was hauled up and two hundred and eighty-five soldiers, including those from the Old Capitol, and a portion of the soldiers from Johnson’s Island, were landed at the wharf. Cars were in readiness to take them to Petersburg. They went off in high spirits, all apparently rejoiced to find themselves again free.

City Point is at the confluence of the James and Appomattox Rivers. The railroad runs along the shore and the land rises abruptly a short distance back from the river bank, forming in many places high bluffs. The wharves, which extended along the whole front of the town, have been destroyed, and nothing remains of them but the charred tops of the piles which supported them. The houses along the shore in front of the steep banks, are all more or less injured and many completely demolished. Great holes are seen through the sides and roofs, made by shot and shell.

At night saw signal station on James River in full operation. Flags are used by day and lights at night.

_Monday, March 30._--Barnes asked Captain Mulford if citizens, after being exchanged, could return to their homes within the Federal lines without being subject to arrest. Captain Mulford said the same charge which led to their arrest in the first instance could be again brought against them, and he said he would advise all who were exchanged to keep outside of the lines, unless they came with Morgan, Stuart, or some one who could take them back safely.

About one o’clock a train came down from Petersburg, with the Confederate States Commissioner of Exchange, Robert Ould. Soon the United States steamer _Henry Burden_ came up with a flag-of-truce, and made fast alongside. She brought Colonel Ludlow, United States Commissioner. About 4:45 we were put on the cars and taken to Petersburg.

PAROLE CAMP

Arriving at Petersburg, we were marched through the city to Parole Camp at Model Farm Barracks. Here we went to headquarters and registered our names. Bennett took me to his quarters and gave me some supper--bacon and crackers. On the boat we had nothing but bread and coffee toward the last, and the meat was quite a luxury. It was of good quality, too.

_Tuesday, March 31._--When I awoke this morning I had to turn over two or three times to supple my joints. The bunk I slept in was hard boards, and our covering for the two was a small shawl and one overcoat. It was a cold, rainy night and my bed was cold. Still, I am satisfied to put up with this lack of comfort to be out of prison and among friends once more. I saw James F. Kerfoot, a room-mate from the Old Capitol. Crowds of negroes flock around the camp with pies, bread and fried chicken, etc. If you ask the price of anything they will answer--“A dollar.” Four pies, $1, and everything in dollar parcels, as though that was the lowest current value known in ordinary traffic.

Parole Camp is located at what was formerly an Agricultural Fair Ground. Here twelve of us are quartered in one end of an old stable. We drew our rations--rice, sugar, salt, bacon and three biscuits each. We put one of these big round biscuits or crackers in a little tin plate, heat some water in a skillet and pour over the biscuit, then turn another tin plate over it and leave for a few minutes. On removing the upper tin plate the biscuit will be found to have swelled out so that it fills the plate. A piece of fat pork or bacon is now put in the skillet, and when the fat is well fried out the biscuit is put in the hot fat and placed over the fire, and to a hungry man living in the open air it is a first-class luxury on a bill of fare, where the great fault is that, like Sam Weller’s love letter, it is too short, and makes you wish there was more of it. The supply of wood is light--rations only five or six sticks.

Jack Barnes, Albert Wrenn and Frank Fox went to Petersburg on an old pass and came back at night, bringing with them a canteen of whiskey, for which they paid $6.50 per quart.

We have only two bunks in our quarters. While we take turns with these the rest of the party have to sleep on the floor or sit up around the fire. The building is open to the wind, and so cold that it is impossible to sleep comfortably.

At Parole Camp I see a great many prisoners who have been incarcerated in Northern prisons, principally Camp Chase, Camp Douglas, and Johnson’s Island. They all corroborate the statements made to me by the Western prisoners with whom I conversed while in the Old Capitol regarding the treatment of prisoners.

I was speaking to one of my companions who was complaining of the short rations and cold comforts at Camp Parole, when one of the released prisoners who had but recently arrived, said:

“You should not complain of the fare and treatment here. It is nothing compared to what we had to go through on Johnson’s Island. Of course it is hard living here, but we know it can’t be helped; there was no excuse for it there. What we suffered there was from pure cussedness. The Yankees have plenty of everything and could certainly give prisoners enough to eat if they chose--plain, cheap food--enough to sustain life in a healthy condition, but they didn’t. Some prisoners would eat their day’s rations at one meal; others would make two meals of it. Salt beef, salt pork, salt fish and bread was doled out to us for months; no coffee, tea or sugar; no vegetables, except very rarely an onion or potato. Consequently, men suffered with scurvy so that their gums were bleeding and sometimes their teeth fell out. Old bones were broken up and boiled, and scraps of food were culled out from the hospital slop-barrels. Rats and cats were eaten by the hungry men when they could catch them. For a time prisoners were allowed to receive food from friends outside, but an order was published denying them this privilege.

“For trifling offences Confederate officers were compelled to stand on the head of a barrel between the dead-line and the prison wall, and one officer while standing in the door of Block 12 was killed by a sentinel. It was not unusual for our quarters to be fired into at night.

“The place being exposed to the cold wintry winds from Lake Erie we suffered from the intense cold, and in summer the only shade was that afforded by the buildings where the prisoners were housed.”[I]

_Thursday, April 2._--The soldiers here have to endure greater hardships than we do. Last night they were coughing continually in the barracks adjoining the quarters I am in. One poor fellow, suffering with neuralgia, was walking up and down the floor, groaning and acting like a crazy man. At last, losing his patience completely, he commenced to swear. A comrade, shocked at his utterances, said:

“Bill, why don’t you pray to God to help you, instead of cursing and going on as you are?”

“Oh,” replied Bill, “I have done that, but d----n it, He won’t do it.”

Captain Cannon told Bowles yesterday that he had written to Colonel French the day before, to know what he should do with the citizens brought here. This should have been provided for in advance of their arrival. There seems to be very poor management on the part of the officials in charge.

Yesterday we got a ration of flour and half a ration of bacon--quarter of a pound to each man.

This afternoon nine hundred men arrived from Camp Chase. There is now a general exchange going on, and it is said about six thousand prisoners are to be brought on. A number were sent off to-day. They go to the Western army. The wind is blowing very hard. Frank Fox, Phil. Lee, and the two Mills sick. Militia relieved from guard duty.

Barnes yesterday appointed sergeant of our company. This morning some of our mess bought a bottle of brandy and half a gallon of beans. I had a good drink of the brandy, and it put a little warmth in me. Beans for dinner--the first good hearty meal since we left the Old Capitol.

We borrowed a big iron kettle from one of the messes, and having gathered a lot of wood and chips, started a fire and put our beans on to cook. One of the men picked up a piece of an old cracker box and we made a number of rude paddles to use as spoons in eating the beans. Tom Lee was walking around seemingly unconscious of what was going on. “Don’t say anything to Tom about what we are doing,” said one. Tom wandered off, and when he returned the beans were ready for eating.

“How are you going to eat the beans--with your fingers?” asked Tom as he saw us seat ourselves around the pot.

All smiled at his innocence, and taking out their paddles commenced fishing for beans. Tom quietly took from his pocket a clam shell he had found in his wanderings and fitted it into a split stick. With this primitive but all-sufficient implement he proceeded to dip into the pot, and while the beans were slipping off our rudely fashioned paddles he could scoop up at one dip as much as we could take at a dozen.

“You boys are smart,” said Tom, “but you couldn’t fool your brother Tom.”

_Saturday, April 4._--Got a pass to visit Petersburg in company with Jack Barnes, Gus Williams and Tom Lee.

Our rations are dealt out in such homeopathic doses that we are always glad when we can obtain a pass to visit Petersburg so as to gratify a little of that craving for food which it is impossible to satisfy here.

Went through the market. Meat selling at $1 a pound; turnips, 25 cents each, and other vegetables in proportion. Bought a hat, $20; had a drink of apple brandy, 50 cents. Walked up along the Appomattox River, and came back into camp through the old Fair Grounds. Rain and cold wind; nearly all the tents blown down.

_Sunday, April 5._--Still raining. Captain Cannon said a dispatch had been received from the Secretary of War, that all civilians not attached to regular commands and liable to conscription, would have the privilege of joining any command they chose. I told Cannon I was a Marylander and that I would like to go to Richmond before making choice. He said I must first designate a command I wished to join. Told him then I would join Captain Mosby. He said I would be mustered in and leave as soon as possible.

_Tuesday, April 7._--Went to Petersburg with Barnes, Wrenn and Biggins. Got plate of ham and eggs (two eggs and a piece of bacon), $1.25.

George Richardson, Gus Williams, Cooke, J. Mills and Benjamin F. Bowles left camp and went to Richmond. Williams, in bidding us good-bye, said he expected to be back in the Old Capitol within a week after leaving Richmond. He said this was the fourth time he had been a prisoner; that his two daughters and one son, about ten or twelve years of age, were arrested at the instigation of Union men and imprisoned three months.

Some of the Confederate officers from the Old Capitol Prison came down last night and reported at camp this morning: Captain Sherman, Major Breckenridge, Lieutenants Smith, Bixler and others. William M. Mills leaves camp to-morrow.

_Thursday, April 9._--One of the prisoners from Camp Douglas told me that there was great mortality among the Confederate prisoners there. A large number were in the hospital, and the morning he left there were thirty corpses in the dead house. “It is no wonder they die off,” said he; “hundreds were frost-bitten and suffered terribly from the cold last winter. Fuel was given out so sparingly, that we had to treasure every little piece of wood and coal as if it was precious metal we were hoarding. Our rations were cut down so that we were never able to satisfy the craving of hunger. So long as we were allowed to receive food from benevolent persons outside of the prison some of the prisoners fared tolerably well, but when the order came prohibiting this we really suffered. Many poor fellows, broken down and emaciated by disease, passed away in the silence of the night and their companions in misery were in ignorance of the fact until the dawning of day exposed to their view the pale corpse in their midst.

“Our barracks were miserable, dilapidated buildings, and our prison guards were brutal in the extreme; they had never been to the front, nor within sight or sound of a battle. Kicks and curses were liberally dealt out, and prisoners were shot without any real provocation. Men were hung up by the thumbs until they fainted. One half-starved prisoner was shot while fishing bones out of a slop-barrel.”

_Sunday, April 12._--Fine day. Yesterday I was passed out by Lieutenant Smith. Gathered some broom-sage and made a bed of it, so I slept more comfortably last night. Heavy cannonading heard yesterday.

About four o’clock this afternoon I was regularly mustered into the Confederate service, to serve under Mosby, now operating in the borderland of Virginia.

Lindsay, of Washington, went to Richmond, to be sent to Company K, Tenth Louisiana Regiment.

There have been so many prisoners brought here to Camp Parole lately that we are getting overcrowded. Coming from the prison pens of Camp Chase, Camp Douglas, Johnson’s Island, and other Northern prisons, where they have been confined for months, they are all more or less infested with vermin. It is a common sight to see an old soldier quietly seat himself in a line of unfortunates, on the sunny side of a fence or building sheltered from the cold wind, and deliberately drawing his shirt over his head, set to work industriously searching for vampires--picking them out from their hiding places in the folds and creases. Skirmishing, the boys term this occupation, though it might be called picketing. To kill the tiny creatures who seek to conceal themselves along the seams of the pants, and to destroy the eggs, two round stones are taken in the hands, and by clapping them together up and down the seams on the side of the legs of the pants the life is crushed out of a goodly number of the bloodthirsty crew.

Expecting now to leave the camp in a day or two, we--that is, our mess (and we certainly were a sorry mess)--went up the Appomattox to Elk Licking Creek and took a bath. We had gotten so stocked up with vermin, that the only way we could see to rid ourselves of the pest was to buy new outfits in Petersburg and go to the Creek, take a good scrubbing, throw away all our old clothes and put on the new ones.

_Monday, April 13._--William McK. Perry, who was a room-mate in the Old Capitol Prison, sent there from Camp Chase, left Parole Camp to-day for his home in Missouri.

FROM PAROLE CAMP TO UPPERVILLE

_Tuesday, April 14._--Left Model Farm Barracks, Camp Parole, in company with John H. Barnes, Albert Wrenn, Frank Fox, Philip and Thomas Lee, and Charles W. Radcliffe.[J] About 4 o’clock left Petersburg for Richmond, where we arrived at 6:30 P.M. Along the road to Richmond are lines of rifle pits and intrenchments commanding the approaches to the city. When we reached the outposts at Richmond we were challenged by a guard, and after showing our papers, were permitted to proceed to the hotel. We put up at the Powhatan House, corner of Eleventh and Broad Streets. Our supper consisted of tough beef, bread and rye coffee--no butter.

_Wednesday, April 15._--Settled my bill at the Powhatan, $8. Terms: $8 per day; $2 each for breakfast and supper; $3 for dinner; $2 for lodging.