Late at night we reached the Island upon which Fort Delaware is
built. We were marched up to the gates, and were halted there until
an officer had passed along the line and enquired whether any of
the prisoners wished to take the oath of allegiance to the United
States government. There was no reply, and we were marched into
the Barracks. These Barracks were common wooden sheds, affording
accommodation for about ten thousand persons. The bunks were
arranged in tiers of three, and into one of these I crawled. The
next morning I was told that these Barracks were the quarters for
the privates and non-commissioned officers, and that, by requesting
it, I could be removed to the quarters for the officers, which were
inside the Fort. Lieutenant Leech and I wrote to the Commandant,
and were at once removed to the Fort, where we were installed
in a large barrack-room, which then contained seventy or eighty
officers. The highest in rank was a Major Holliday, belonging to
one of the Virginia regiments.
During the time that I was in the Fort I slept next to Adjutant W.
P. DuBose, of the Holcombe Legion, who had been taken prisoner at
South Mountain. He was supposed to have been killed, but had really
been but slightly wounded. When he returned to South Carolina he
found that his obituary had been published, and that his friends
were in mourning for him. Afterwards he went into the ministry, and
was appointed Chaplain of Kershaw’s Brigade. He is now one of the
Professors of the University of the South, at Sewanee.
As the number of officers increased with new arrivals, the room
became painfully crowded. Within the room we could do pretty much
as we pleased, except that we were not allowed to gather together
in a body, lest we might plan an escape, I suppose. Nor were we
allowed to cross the threshold of the door, on pain of being shot.
The guards were abusive, and would swear at us like dogs if we did
anything they disapproved of. A word in reply was met by a blow
with the butt end of a musket, or by an order that the offender
be sent to the Black Hole. Still we were far better off than our
comrades were in the Barracks outside. Our room was dry, warm and
well lighted, while the Barracks were cold, damp and dark. Our room
had conveniences for washing to a certain extent, and there was
plenty of water of a poor quality. The washing of clothes went on
all the time, which was not conducive to the comfort of those who
used the washstand for personal ablutions. The inhabitants of the
garments which were steeped in the washstand naturally took refuge
in the water.
No exercise of any kind was permitted to us, and we only left the
room to march down into the mess-hall. For breakfast we had a cup
of poor coffee without milk or sugar, and two small pieces of bad
bread. For dinner we had a cup of greasy water misnamed soup, a
piece of beef two inches square and a half inch thick, and two
slices of bread. At supper the fare was the same as at breakfast.
This was exceedingly light diet. Some of the officers behaved
disagreeably; and eight or ten of us, principally Virginians,
associated ourselves together for mutual protection, and formed a
mess of our own. We contrived to make some additions to our diet by
purchases at the Sutler’s store. When we had no money the Sutler
would take watches or other valuables in pledge, and let us have
the provisions.
A number of the citizens of Baltimore, including Mr. Carpenter,
had been arrested for disloyalty, and they were found at this
time in the Fort. They were not watched as closely as we were,
and sometimes in going down to dinner we had an opportunity to
exchange a word with them. They were jolly fellows, and exceedingly
liberal. Mr. Carpenter was editor of the Maryland _News Sheet_, and
was released about the time of our arrival. Being appointed the
chairman of the Baltimore Society for the relief of prisoners, he
returned to the Fort to see what our wants were. At one shipment
over two thousand pair of excellent shoes were sent to the Fort for
the prisoners. Indeed, each one of the three thousand Confederates
in the Fort received a blanket, a pair of shoes, warm trousers, a
jacket, and a felt hat; or such of these things as he required. Nor
were the officers in our room forgotten. Clothing of every kind
was sent to us. It was proposed at first that the senior officer
present should take charge of the supplies, and distribute the
clothing according to the necessities of the individuals. This did
not suit some of our comrades. When the packages were brought in
and opened there was a general rush, and those who pulled hardest
and pushed most got the larger part of the spoils. I saw men wear
two pair of new trousers under an old pair, and then complain to
Mr. Carpenter that they wanted a new pair. And so it was with
jackets and with under-clothing. Blankets were in great demand. One
man who was crying lustily for a blanket was found to have four new
blankets hidden under his bunk.
I had only been in the Fort a day or two when the guard called
my name, and handed me a newspaper. This was a most unusual
occurrence, as newspapers were not allowed to be given to us,
unless they contained some startling report of Union victories.
The newspaper was the Philadelphia _Inquirer_, a rabid Union
sheet, and I was curious to see what it contained that concerned
me. There I saw, in big type, the announcement of “The Arrival
of the Rebel Prisoners!” “Conversation with a Rebel Officer of
Longstreet’s Staff!” “Condition of the South!” “What is thought
of the Rebel Generals!” &c., &c. The writer said that, in the
cars, he had had the pleasure of a conversation with Lieutenant
Dawson, of General Longstreet’s Staff, who was in England when the
war began, but immediately returned to his home in Sussex County,
Va., and entered the Confederate service! After complimenting me
upon my intelligence and courtesy, he gave a very fair report of
what I said. The mystery was explained. My inquisitive friend on
the cars was a newspaper reporter. I was annoyed by the publicity
given to what I had said, for I feared that my friends at the South
would misunderstand it; but it proved after all to be a fortunate
occurrence for me. Two days after the appearance of the article in
the Philadelphia _Inquirer_, the guard came and began to talk to
me in a surprisingly civil way. Suddenly he turned his back to me
and slipped a letter into my hand, telling me not to let any one
see it. I hurried off to the only private place we had, and read my
letter. It was from a Mr. Neal, of Walnut Street, Philadelphia. He
said that he had seen my name in the _Inquirer_, and that, being a
Virginian and a prisoner, I had claims upon him; and that anything
that I wanted, either in money or clothes, he would be only too
happy to send me. I replied, thanking him for his kindness, and
asking that he would send me some under-clothing, of which I stood
in great need. Mr. Neal at once came down to the Fort, and brought
me a valise well furnished with handkerchiefs, socks, shirts,
collars, and other things that I required. He also insisted that I
should take a small sum of money, which I was fortunately able to
return to him when I was set at liberty. Much to my regret, I have
not been able to learn anything about Mr. Neal since the war ended.
I had hardly settled down to the quiet enjoyment of my valise and
its contents, when a big basket was brought to me, with a note from
a Miss Spotswood, who said she saw by the papers that I was from
Sussex, Virginia, where she had spent many happy years, and begged
that in memory of this I would accept the accompanying basket.
I did. In the basket were jelly, preserves, sugar, tea, coffee,
pickles, pepper and salt, a comb and brush, a tooth-brush, note
paper, envelopes and postage stamps. My comfort was now complete.
Who but a woman would have thought of sending so many little
necessaries which I could not otherwise have obtained!