CHAPTER XX

BACK TO FORT DELAWARE—DISAPPOINTMENT AND

GREAT SUFFERING—THREE DEATHS AND

BURIALS AT SEA

About the 3d or 4th of March, I think it was, the soldiers guarding us

said an order had been received from General Grant, "an autograph

letter," they said, to take us to Norfolk; thence up James River to City

Point, for exchange. This was joyful news, indeed, and with eagerness

and high hopes the prisoners made preparations to leave that dismal

place. The next day we boarded a small steamer and were off for Dixie,

as all believed. We left many a poor comrade buried in the sand on that

Tybee Island, victims of Yankee cruelty and hatred.

After taking on board the prisoners at Hilton Head, the ship was so

heavily loaded that the captain refused to put to sea. All the prisoners

were then transferred to the steamship _Illinois_, a larger and better

boat, which sailed for Norfolk. So certain were all that an exchange

would be effected, no effort was made to carry out the plan to capture

the ship. The guards on the ship paid little or no attention to the

prisoners; they virtually had the freedom of the ship, could go on deck

at will, and could have taken possession without the loss of a single

man. There was no gunboat escort.

On this trip up the coast there was a great deal of seasickness. There

was no storm, but the ship rolled considerably. I was sick myself, and

as I lay in a bunk down on the lower deck, looking out a small porthole

at the huge billows, feeling very miserable, I made up my mind if

anything happened to the ship, to just lay still and go down with it

without making any effort to save myself. I remember one poor fellow who

was suffering terribly, groaning and heaving as if trying to throw up

his very "gizzard," when some one called out, "Give that man a piece of

fat meat, it will help him." The sick man cried out in his agony, "O

Lord God, don't talk about fat meat to me." Any one who has been

sea-sick knows what an aversion the nausea produces to food, especially

fat meat.

On the night of the 7th of March we dropped anchor at Norfolk, thinking

of nothing but that the next morning we would steam up the historic

James to City Point, and there be exchanged.

DISAPPOINTMENT AND GREAT SUFFERING

The next morning the ship weighed anchor, with many of us on deck in

high spirits. Soon after getting under way, the ship was hailed by a

gunboat, lying in Hampton Roads, with "Where are you bound?" The captain

of the _Illinois_ shouted back through his trumpet, "Fort Delaware." Oh,

horror of horrors! our hearts sank within us; visions of exchange, of

home and friends, vanished in a twinkling. Doomed to further

incarceration in a detestable Yankee prison, when we had expected in a

few short hours to be free and with friends! With hope, aye, certainly

of relief, dashed to the ground, our feelings may be better imagined

than expressed in words. The doom of the damned, "Depart from me ye

cursed into everlasting fire," can not be much worse. The Yankee guards

on board the ship were at once on the alert, and with harsh and insolent

commands, ordered and compelled, at point of bayonet, all the prisoners

to get off the deck, and would not allow, after this, more than six or

eight men on deck at a time; sentinels with loaded guns and fixed

bayonets stood at the hatchways above us, and there was no chance to

take the ship. One scoundrel threatened to shoot me as I stood at the

foot of the ladder, with my hand on it, awaiting my turn to go on deck.

He said to me in an insolent tone, "Take your hand off that ladder." I

did so, then he said, "If you are an officer, why don't you dress like

an officer?" I replied, "It is none of your business how I dress." Then

he said, "Damn you, I will shoot you," bringing down his cocked gun on

me, when I stepped back out of sight, thinking "discretion the better

part of valor." How much the seventy men in the plot regretted not

putting that plot into execution can never be told.

THREE DEATHS AND BURIALS AT SEA

While on the way up the coast to Fort Delaware, the suffering among the

prisoners was greatly intensified. The sick and disabled especially were

downcast, and in utter despair; a more miserable set of men were perhaps

never seen on board a ship. The floor of the lower deck was covered with

vomit, which sloshed from side to side as the ship rolled back and

forth.

Gloom and despair sat like a black pall on every face. Before Fort

Delaware was reached, three officers died and were buried at sea. I

witnessed one of the burials. The body was sewed up in a blanket with a

cannon ball at the feet, then placed on a plank, feet foremost, which

was pushed out over the side of the ship and the plank tilted up, when

all that was mortal of the poor fellow slid off, and dropped into the

sea, many feet below, to rest in a watery grave until the final roll

call at the Judgment Day, "when the sea shall give up its dead."

Seventy-five sick were taken from the ship to the hospital, and many

more were hardly able to walk, but the hospital was full. We disembarked

at Fort Delaware on the 12th of March, 1865.

It was said the reason we were not exchanged, was that upon the arrival

of the prisoners at Hampton Roads their condition was so horrible the

Yankees did not want the Confederate authorities and the world to know

their condition, hence they were shipped back to Fort Delaware.

That the exchange was ordered by General Grant I here present proof from

the same volume of "War Records," before quoted from, on page 417, where

will be found the following:

* * * * *

"CITY POINT, VA., _March 21, 1865_.

"Brigadier-General Mulford, Commanding General: I do not know what has

been done with the officers at Fort Pulaski; I sent orders to have them

delivered at Charleston. Before the order had been received, Charleston

had fallen into our possession. I then sent orders to have them sent to

the James River. Before that order was received, General Gilmore wrote

to me that, having received my first order, which had been directed to

General Foster, he had sent a flag to find the enemy to deliver the

prisoners to. I have heard nothing since.

(Signed) "U. S. GRANT,

Lieutenant-General."

* * * * *

Proof of Grant's order to Foster for exchange at Charleston is in the

same volume, page 219, and is dated 14th of February, 1865. "So near,"

we were to exchange and relief from suffering, "and yet so far."

Personal Reminiscences of the War of 1861-5 In Camp—en Bivouac—on the March—on Picket—on the Skirmish Line—on the Battlefield—and in Prison · 第 20 / 23 章