Part 7

Beef is selling in Richmond at $1.25 per pound; butter, $3; coffee, $4 to $5; eggs, $1.50 per dozen. Expected to go to the transportation office at night, but went to the theater and then back to the hotel.

_Thursday, April 16._--At 7:30 left Richmond and arrived at Gordonsville at 1 P.M.; stopped at Mann’s Hotel. Gordonsville is a miserable looking place now. There has been so much rain lately, and the roads have been cut up with the travel and passing of army teams and trains, so that it is little else than a mud-hole.

_Saturday, April 18._--Paid Mann’s bill, $7.50. There are but six of us now, as Frank Fox left us and remained at Barboursville. MacWooster hitched up a wagon, agreeing to take us to Madison Court House for $5 each. We reached Madison Court House about dark and went to a hotel kept by Mr. Seal. Here we were very comfortable--good beds and an excellent table.

_Sunday, April 19._--Madison Court House is a very pretty little place, well situated, and commanding a beautiful view of the Blue Ridge and surrounding country. There are two or three churches and a fine court house. The houses are neat and comfortable. After dinner paid Mr. Seal. Our bill for supper, breakfast and dinner, was $4.50.

MacWooster said he would carry us as far as Criglersville, about six miles distant, and there leave us to foot it. The drive along the road was very pleasant, particularly after striking Robertson River, a beautiful clear stream with a swift current, which comes down from the mountains.

“Now, boys,” said Mac, as he bid us good-bye at a ford on the Robertson River, “you’ve got a rough road before you, and a poor country to travel through. Take my advice and stop for the night at Matt. Graves’s. His house is near the foot of the mountain. He is one of the finest men in the country. He will treat you well and give you the best he has in his house.” We afterward found good reason to be thankful for having taken this friendly advice.

When we reached the house which we supposed was to be our haven of rest, we saw a man riding up to the stable, and on accosting him found he was Mr. Graves. He invited us to his house, where he regaled us with a good drink and a bottle for our day’s journey on the morrow. This he said we would find needful before we got far on our road, for he not only repeated MacWooster’s warning as to the hardships awaiting us, but also said he feared the weather would prove unfavorable and add to our discomfort.

_Monday, April 20._--At Mr. Graves’s there is a little fellow about the size, age and appearance of my youngest son, Bernardin. Seeing him playing around and fondling on his father it brought to mind thoughts of home--thoughts of home and its comforts; of the dear ones there; of the sad hearts I left, and of the glad hearts to greet me on my return. I could hardly resist the temptation to pick up the little one without saying a word, but I feared he would cry, so I made friends with him by showing him a ring on my finger, and so coaxed him on until I had banished any fears he might have. All the time I was there I could scarcely keep my eyes off him.

Paid Mr. Graves $2 each for supper, bed and breakfast, and started to cross the mountain at Milani’s Gap. We were told it was ten miles from Mr. Graves’s to the top of the ridge and six miles to the foot on the other side. Rain set in last night and this morning the clouds are very heavy, enveloping the mountains completely. The road takes a zigzag course up the slope, which is quite steep in many places. A great portion of the way we followed along the Robertson River. The scenery, as well as we could see it through the mist, appeared grand. It was mountains piled on mountains--an ocean of ridges. In some places we could travel for a long distance and then throw a stone to the place we started from. A number of huts are scattered through this mountain region, but the people are almost as wild as Indians, and it was impossible to obtain refreshments of any kind along the road.

When about four miles from the top rain again set in, and we tramped along through the driving storm. In some places, endeavoring to save distance, we would leave the main road and climb up the steep sides until we struck into the road at some point higher up. We had to ford the swift mountain streams, or cross on an old log or fallen tree, where, as also in clambering along the narrow footpath, a false step, the turning of a stone or the breaking of a limb, and one would have been precipitated into the foaming current which dashed on among the rocks. In those mountain storms a tiny stream which winds along like a silvery thread in fair weather, is in less than an hour transformed into a raging torrent, sweeping off everything in its course.

On nearing the top we fell in with a man who was traveling through the country buying up cattle and forage for the Confederate Government. He kept in company with us until we reached Marksville. Hearing a noise which sounded like the rumbling of a wagon train coming down the road, we listened and finally concluded it either proceeded from a subterranean stream which flowed through the mountains or that roaring which usually precedes a mountain storm.

Seeing a hut near the roadside, we stopped, and a youth came out to the fence, followed by a squad of unkempt redheaded children. We asked if we could get anything to eat. He had nothing. Seeing some chickens roaming around, Barnes said he would give him $1.50 for a dozen eggs. He replied that he had none; no meal--nothing edible, and it was a half mile to the top of the mountain.

We passed through Dismal Hollow, a wild, romantic-looking place. The road was sometimes hidden by the overhanging foliage. We saw the snow piled up on the side of the road and through the hemlock thickets, where it remains far into the summer. On reaching the top of the mountain we uncorked our bottle and drank that the Yankees might never cross the Blue Ridge.

Then commenced our descent, and it is hard to say whether it was easier to go up or down hill. Had it not been for the rain our traveling would have been less difficult. After getting to the foot we proceeded on until we came to the house of a man named Kite. He had a fine house and farm, but refused to accommodate us. He said he was eaten out and had not enough for his own family. We jogged on through the rain until we reached Marksville, on the Hawksbill Creek, where we stopped a few minutes to rest, and then walked along until within about four miles of Luray.

We inquired at every house along the road, but could neither get a mouthful to eat nor a place to shelter us from the rain, though we told them all we were not asking charity, but were willing to pay liberally for all we received. After so many rebuffs we were about giving up the attempt to get food or shelter, when Barnes and Wrenn stopped at the house of Reuben Long. He said he would take three of us and the other three could get accommodated at the next house--a Mr. Spitter. We tried there and he had a sick family. We then went to the house of Ambrose Varner, who received us kindly, built a big fire to warm us and dry our wet clothes, and prepared a good substantial supper for us. Charles Ratcliffe had become disgusted with our receptions and made arrangements to build a fire and pass the night in an old shanty, while a negro was to furnish bread and meat for his supper. He afterward came to Varner’s, where we spent the night.

_Tuesday, April 21._--After a good breakfast we prepared for a start. On asking what our bill was, Mr. Varner said he would make no charge, but if we chose to give his wife anything for her trouble, he would leave it altogether with us. We gave him $2 each, and he put up a nice lunch to take along with us. We called at Long’s, where Barnes and Wrenn joined us, and then pushed on to Luray. Yesterday we walked a little more than twenty-one miles across the mountains, through mud and rain.

At Luray, while Barnes and Wrenn stopped at Modisett’s Hotel for dinner, I went in search of a druggist, as I had been unwell for several days. He gave me some powders. I took one, which made me very sick. I lay down for a while, but felt no better, and we started off on the road to Front Royal. Along the road I was burning with fever--my head so dizzy that I staggered like a person drunk. I had an excessive thirst and drank at every spring or stream we came to, but even water would not remain on my stomach--soon after drinking I would be taken with vomiting. After going about six miles we turned off from the road into a lane, and thence to the house of Mr. Hoffman, where we obtained supper, bed and breakfast. The good lady of the house made me a cup of tea, which I drank, but could eat no supper. Went to bed early, and after I got in bed Mr. Hoffman brought me a glass of toddy.

_Wednesday, April 22._--Felt somewhat better this morning; got breakfast. Settled bill, $1 each. Mr. Hoffman brought us a plate of biscuits to carry along and we started for Front Royal. We met parties along the route, each with a different story to tell about the approach of the Yankees. Some said they were in force at Middletown, about 12 miles from Front Royal. Others, that they were expected in Front Royal at any moment, and advising us not to stop there. Indeed, had we heeded half the reports we would have retraced our steps.

A few miles from Front Royal we met a carriage going toward Luray. In it was a young man in Confederate uniform and two young ladies. Barnes spoke to them and one immediately recognized him. She was Miss Belle Ford, a cousin to Miss Antonia Ford, who was arrested and confined in the Old Capitol Prison after Mosby’s raid into Fairfax Court House and capture of General Stoughton, charged with giving Mosby information which led to the raid and capture.[K] After leaving them we proceeded about another mile, when we were halted by a patrol of Confederate Cavalry, who demanded to know where we were from, where we were going, etc. One of them said he had seen the Yankees at Middletown--cavalry, infantry and artillery--and cautioned us about stopping at Front Royal. Our road ran a great distance along the Shenandoah River. On the one side we had the river banks, and on the other towering rocks and rugged mountains. In some places there was a gradual slope, while in others they rose perpendicular, forming a complete wall, but without its uniformity--massive and broken, showing occasionally large fissures which, viewed from the ground, resembled windows.

On reaching Front Royal we went to the hotel. There are two in town, but only one occupied. Here a very nice supper was set out for us, but I was content with a dish of boiled milk. There were but two beds in the house, and as there were six of us we slept three in a bed.

_Thursday, April 23._--Good breakfast this morning. It was raining very hard when we started on toward Markham. Our route led us down the old Manassas Railroad. The track had been torn up, the sleepers and all woodwork burnt, the rails bent and in many cases twisted around the trunks of trees. The road in some places was so muddy we sunk five or six inches at every step, and in other places we were slipping over sharp broken stones. Finding the road so bad, our clothing completely saturated with rain, and there being no appearance of the rain ceasing, we halted by the roadside at an old deserted shanty, which had at one time been occupied by workmen on the railroad. We gathered some wood, built a fire and tried to make ourselves as comfortable as possible. We bought seven pounds of flour from an old Irishman living near by, but could get neither meat nor eggs. The man baked us some bread and with it brought us a pot of coffee. At night slept on a bunch of wet straw thrown on the floor of the shanty--that is, on the place where the flooring should be, but in this instance it was dirt, the same as outside, except that it was sheltered from the rain.

_Friday, April 24._--Still raining. Made another start, but stopped at Mr. Lee’s, about a mile from our last halting place, and got breakfast. We then struck out through rain and mud, our boots soaking wet and our clothes hanging limp. Stopped at Bush Thompson’s and bought some apple brandy. Passed through Markham and on to Piedmont (now called Delaplane). We crossed Goose Creek three times: first, on charred logs, the remains of what was once the railroad bridge; second, on a fallen tree, and, third, on a bridge similar to the first. The burnt logs, broken and bent down, looked as if ready to give way under our weight in crossing. From Piedmont took the road to Upperville, where we arrived early in the evening. Barnes and Ratcliffe went to the house of a friend near town. Philip Lee, Thomas Lee, Wrenn and myself went to Lunchford’s, where we got a very poor supper, no fire, and sat until bedtime shivering in our wet boots and clothes.

_Saturday, April 25._--On opening my valise to get out dry clothes, I was surprised to find that the water had leaked in and everything in it was soaked with water. I was compelled to put on wet socks and underclothes.

There was a meeting of Mosby’s men in Upperville on this day and they were coming in town singly and in small squads from different directions. I saw Mosby and made myself known to him and my purpose in coming to Virginia. He said he would furnish me a horse, and told me to come to the next meeting of the command.

I met a number of men who had been prisoners in the Old Capitol with me. I was introduced to William Ayre and rode with him to the home of his brother George S. Ayre, at Ayreshire, who had been a room-mate with me in the Old Capitol Prison. He welcomed me to his home and told me to make his house my headquarters. When I got my horse and equipments I was ready to enter upon my career as a Partisan Ranger.

INMATES OF ROOM NO. 16, DURING MY TERM OF IMPRISONMENT

[The Missourians named were held here awaiting transportation South for exchange.]

Adreon, George S., Baltimore.

Armand, William, Louisiana.

Ayre, George S., Loudoun County, Virginia.

Barnes, John H., Fairfax County, Virginia.

Barrett, Boyd.

Bennett, .........., Maryland.

Brawner, Redmond F., Prince William County, Virginia.

Carr, John, Fauquier County, Virginia.

Carter, H. Fitzhugh, Fauquier County, Virginia.

Chandler, .........., Missouri. (From Camp Chase.)

Clift, .........., Missouri. (From Camp Chase.)

Comastri, Marco, Italy. Arrested coming from the South.

Davis, ..........

Delano, Philemon.

Dula, Lowring, Missouri.

Eorio, Pietro, Brusnengo, Piemonte, Italia.

Ewell, James, Accomac County, Virginia.

Fitzgerald, Edward.

Flaherty, John, Baltimore.

Flaherty, Peter, Baltimore.

Ford, John.

Gardner, ..........

George, ..........

Goldsmith, John M., St. Mary’s County, Md.

Green, .........., Missouri. (From Camp Chase.)

Hagan, .........., Missouri. (From Camp Chase.)

Hammett, George.

Hertzog, .......... (From Camp Chase.)

Holbrook, Thomas H., Baltimore.

Hollenbaugh, William T., Pennsylvania.

Hoyle, George, Maryland.

Hunter, John B., Virginia. (Held as a Hostage.)

Hurst, Thomas, Baltimore.

Jenkins, ..........

Johnson, James, Clarke County, Virginia.

Keleher, John, Baltimore.

Kerfoot, James F., Clarke County, Virginia.

Key, J., Maryland.

King, Aaron J.

Lackey, .........., Missouri. (From Camp Chase.)

Lewis, Aaron.

Littlepage, William T., Baltimore.

Love, Henry, Dumfries, Virginia.

Love, Llewellyn, Dumfries, Virginia.

Marchland, Judge. (From Camp Chase.)

Martin, .......... (From Camp Chase.)

Minor, Fairfax, Virginia.

Mitchell, Captain, Baltimore.

Mitchell, Lieutenant Hugh.

Montgomery, ..........

Mount, Stephen R., Loudoun County, Virginia.

O’Brien, Edward H., Maryland. (First Md. Regiment.)

Pentz, John, Baltimore.

Perry, William McK., Missouri. (From Camp Chase.)

Phillips, Captain Thomas. (Captured running the blockade into Wilmington, N. C.)

Phillips, Captain Wesley, Baltimore. (Captain of schooner carrying stores to the Army of the Potomac.)

Purcell, Volney, Loudoun County, Virginia.

Randolph, .........., Virginia.

Reilly, ..........

Richardson, George, Fairfax County, Virginia.

Rinaldi, Raphael, Italy. (Arrested coming from the South.)

Russell, .........., Baltimore.

Short, .........., Virginia.

Simmons, Albert, Baltimore.

Smith, John C.

Spence, William A., Westmoreland County, Virginia.

Stant, James, Accomac County, Virginia.

Storm, R. B., Baltimore.

Tansell, James, Washington, D. C.

Taylor, George, Accomac County, Virginia.

Taylor, James, Accomac County, Virginia.

Taylor, John W., Accomac County, Virginia.

Taylor, Samuel, Accomac County, Virginia.

Thornton, Frank, Baltimore.

Thornton, William.

Ward, Charles.

Ward, Walter W., Baltimore. (Stuart’s Horse Artillery.)

Weiler, Emanuel, Richmond, Virginia.

Williams, Augustus, Vienna, Virginia.

Williams, W. F., Maryland.

Williamson, James J., Washington, D. C.

Wright, J.

TREATMENT OF PRISONERS OF WAR

Hon. Jefferson Davis, in a letter written from Beauvoir, December, 1888, said:

“Nearly a quarter of a century has elapsed since war between the States ceased. Has the prejudice fed on the passions of that period ceased with the physical strife? Shall it descend from sire to son, hardened by its transmission? Or shall it be destroyed by the full development of the truth, the exposure of the guilty, and the vindication of the innocent?”

In the North a general impression was produced, and exists to a certain extent even at this late day, that Northern prisoners incarcerated in Southern prisons during the war, were brutally treated, starved, frozen, neglected and inhumanly treated in sickness, and even murdered, and that this was done in accordance with a wilful and deliberate plan, inaugurated by the Confederate Government and carried out by its officers and soldiers. And no other subject has tended more to keep alive a bitter and hostile feeling between the sections.

It is not so much among soldiers who fought through the war that the intenseness of this feeling is shown as among those whose fighting has been done since the war. In most cases it is the result of prejudice or through ignorance of the real facts.

The Confederate authorities made every effort possible to alleviate the sufferings of prisoners in Southern prisons. Finding it impossible to effect exchange man for man, and aware of their inability to properly care for the sick and wounded, they offered to deliver to the United States authorities the sick and wounded without insisting on the delivery of any equivalent in return. It was nearly four months after this offer was made by the Confederate authorities before it was accepted by the United States authorities, who had been informed of the frightful mortality among their soldiers in Southern prisons and urged to send speedy transportation to take them away.

Robert Ould, Confederate Agent of Exchange, offered to purchase medicines from the United States authorities, to be used exclusively for the relief of United States prisoners--to pay in gold, cotton or tobacco--two or three prices even--such medicines to be brought into the Confederate lines and dispensed by United States surgeons.

The following letter will show the persistent efforts made by the Confederate authorities for the relief of prisoners in their hands:

Confederate States of America, War Department, Richmond, Va., Jan. 24, 1864.

Major-General E. A. HITCHCOCK, _Agent of Exchange_.

Sir:--In view of the present difficulties attending the exchange and release of prisoners, I propose that all such on each side shall be attended by a proper number of their own surgeons, who, under rules to be established, shall be permitted to take charge of their health and comfort.

I also propose that these surgeons shall act as commissaries, with power to receive and distribute such contributions of money, food, clothing and medicines as may be forwarded for the relief of prisoners. I further propose that these surgeons be selected by their own governments, and that they shall have full liberty at any and all times, through the agents of exchange, to make reports not only of their own acts, but of any matters relating to the welfare of the prisoners.

Respectfully, your obedient servant, RO. OULD, _Agent of Exchange_.

Could anything be fairer and more humane than this proposal?

In a letter to the editor of the _National Intelligencer_, dated August 17, 1868, Robert Ould says:

“The cartel of exchange bears date July 22, 1862. The fourth article provided that all prisoners of war should be discharged on parole in ten days after capture. From the date of the cartel until the summer of 1863, the Confederate authorities had the excess of prisoners. During that interval deliveries were made as fast as the Federal Government furnished transportation.... As long as the Confederate Government had the excess of prisoners matters went on smoothly enough; but as soon as the posture of affairs in that respect was changed the cartel could no longer be observed.

“More than once I urged the mortality at Andersonville as a reason for haste on the part of the United States authorities. I know personally it was the purpose of the Confederate Government to send off from its prisons all the sick and wounded, and to continue to do the same from time to time, without requiring any equivalents.”

The War Department at Washington, on July 3, 1863, issued General Order No. 209, which states that “it is understood captured officers and men and sick and wounded in hospitals have been paroled and released,” and concludes: “Any officer or soldier who gives such parole will be returned to duty without exchange, and, moreover, will be punished for disobedience to orders.”

General J. A. Early, commenting on this order, said: “But for that order all the prisoners captured by us at Gettysburg, amounting to fully six thousand, would have been paroled, and, in fact, the proper staff officers were proceeding to parole them, and had actually paroled and released a large number of them, when news came of the order referred to. Why did Mr. Stanton object to the paroling of those prisoners? And why did he prefer that they should be confined in prisons in the South--‘prison pens,’ as Northern Republicans are pleased to call them.... If any of the prisoners brought from Gettysburg, or subsequently captured, lost their lives at Andersonville, or any other Southern prison, is it not palpable that the responsibility for their deaths rested on Edwin M. Stanton?”

The fact is, the authorities at Washington were willing to allow their soldiers to languish and die in Southern prisons rather than consent to exchange. Would rather have them kept and starved that they might make capital out of it. When they consented to receive the sick and wounded, they did it--not for the purpose of ameliorating their sufferings, but that they might take the worst looking of the sick and starved prisoners and make an exhibition of their pictures to arouse a feeling of resentment among the Northern people, cover up their own infamy and place the South in a false light before the powers of the world.