A GOOD-BYE TO BELLE ISLE—GOOD PLACE TO BE MOVED FROM—ASTOR HOUSE
MESS ON ITS TRAVELS—NEW SCENES—THE RAID ON RICHMOND AND CONSEQUENT
SCARE—ALL’S WELL IF IT ENDS WELL—MEN SHOT, ETC., ETC.
PEMERTON BUILDING, Richmond, Va., Feb. 24.—We are confined on the
third floor of the building, which is a large tobacco warehouse. Was
removed from the island yesterday. Was a warm day and it was a long
walk. Came across the “long bridge,” and it is a long bridge. Was
not sorry to bid adieu to Belle Isle. Were searched last night but
our mess has lost nothing, owing to the following process we have of
fooling them: One of the four manages to be in the front part of the
crowd and is searched first, and is then put on the floor underneath
and we let our traps down through a crack in the floor to him, and
when our turn comes we have nothing about us worth taking away. The
men so ravenous when the rations were brought in, that the boxes of
bread and tubs of poor meat were raided upon before dividing, and
consequently some had nothing to eat at all, while others had plenty.
Our mess did not get a mouthful and have had nothing to eat since
yesterday afternoon, and it is now nearly dark. The lice are very
thick. You can see them all over the floors, walls, &c., in fact
everything literally covered with them; they seem much larger than
the stock on Belle Isle and a different species. We talk of escape
night and day—and are nearly crazy on the subject. No more news
about exchange. Papers state that Richmond is threatened, and that
Kilpatrick’s cavalry is making a raid on the place for the purpose of
releasing us and burning the town. Unusual bustle among them.
[Illustration: George W. Hendryx.]
Feb. 25.—We divide the night up into four watches and take turns
standing guard while the other three sleep, to protect ourselves from
Captain Moseby’s gang of robbers. We are all armed with iron slats
pulled off the window casings. They are afraid to pitch in to us, as
we are a stout crowd and would fight well for our worldly goods. We
expect to take it before long. They are eyeing us rather sharp, and I
guess will make an attack to-night. Very long days and more lonesome
than when on the island. Got rations to-day, and the allowance did
not half satisfy our hunger.
Feb. 26.—Rather cold, almost spring. Guards unusually strict. Hendryx
was standing near the window, and I close by him, looking at the
high, ten story tobacco building, when the guard fired at us. The
ball just grazed Hendryx’s head and lodged in the ceiling above; all
we could do to prevent Hendryx throwing a brick at the guard.
Feb. 27.—Organizing the militia; hauling artillery past the prison.
Have a good view of all that is going on. Bought a compass from one
of the guards for seven dollars, greenbacks; worth half a dollar at
home. It is already rumored among the men that we have a compass, a
map of Virginia, a preparation to put on our feet to prevent dogs
from tracking us, and we are looked up to as if we were sons of Irish
lords in disguise, and are quite noted personages. Cold last night,
and we suffer much in not having blankets enough to keep us warm.
The walls are cold and damp, making it disagreeable, and the stench
nearly makes us sick. It is impossible for a person to imagine prison
life until he has seen and realized it. No news of importance. Time
passes much more drearily than when on Belle Isle. Were all searched
again to-day but still keep my diary, although expecting to lose it
every day; would be quite a loss, as the longer I write and remain
a prisoner the more attached am I to my record of passing events.
A man shot for putting his head out of the window. Men all say it
served him right, for he had no business to thus expose himself
against strict orders to the contrary. We are nearly opposite and not
more than twenty rods from Libby Prison, which is a large tobacco
warehouse. Can see plenty of union officers, which it is a treat to
look at. Hendryx had a fight with the raiders—got licked. He ain’t so
pretty as he was before, but knows more. I am very wise about such
matters, consequently retain my beauty.
Feb. 28.—Had the honor (?) of seeing Jefferson Davis again and part
of his congress to-day. They visited Libby and we were allowed to
look out of the windows to see them as they passed in and out of the
building. Strut around like chickens with frozen feet. David Benjamin
walked with the President and is a much better looking man. Prisoners
were notified that if they made any insulting remarks they would be
fired at. Have no more exalted opinion of them than before.
Feb. 29.—Excitement among the Johnnies—flying around as if the Yankee
army were threatening Richmond. Cannot learn what the commotion is,
but hope it is something that will benefit us. LATER: The occasion of
the excitement among the rebels is that Dahlgreen is making a raid on
Richmond, acting in conjunction with Kilpatrick, for the purpose of
liberating prisoners. We are heavily guarded and not allowed to look
out of the windows, nevertheless we manage to see about all there is
going on.
Feb. 30.—Rebels in hot water all night and considerably agitated.
Imagined we could hear firing during the night. This morning small
squads of tired out union soldiers marched by our prison under guard,
evidently captured through the night. Look as if they was completely
played out. Go straggling by sometimes not more than half a dozen at
a time. Would give something to hear the news. We are all excitement
here. Negroes also go by in squads sometimes of hundreds in charge of
overseers, and singing their quaint negro melodies. It is supposed
by us that the negroes work on the fortifications, and are moved
from one part of the city to another, for that purpose. Our troops
have evidently been repulsed with considerable loss. We hear that
Dahlgreen has been shot and killed. At the very first intimation that
our troops were anywhere near, the prisoners would have made a break.
March 1.—Working along towards Spring slowly. A dead calm after the
raid scare. We much prefer the open air imprisonment to confinement.
Have considerable trouble with the thieves which disgrace the name
of union soldier. Are the most contemptible rascals in existence.
Often walk up to a man and coolly take his food and proceed to eat
it before the owner. If the victim resists then a fight is the
consequence, and the poor man not only loses his food but gets licked
as well.
March 2.—The food we get here is poor, water very good, weather
outside admirable, vermin still under control and the “Astor House
Mess” flourishing. We are all in good health with the exception of
Dr. Lewis, who is ailing. I was never tougher—seems as if your
humble servant was proof against the hardest rebel treatment. No
exchange news. Trade and dicker with the guards and work ourselves
into many luxuries, or rather work the luxuries into ourselves.
Have become quite interested in a young soldier boy from Ohio named
Bill Havens. Is sick with some kind of fever and is thoroughly bad
off. Was tenderly brought up and well educated I should judge. Says
he ran away from home to become a drummer. Has been wounded twice,
in numerous engagements, now a prisoner of war and sick. Will try
and keep track of him. Every nationality is here represented and
from every branch of the service, and from all parts of the world.
There are smart men here and those that are not so smart, in fact a
conglomeration of humanity—hash, as it were.
March 3.—The ham given us to-day was rotten, with those nameless
little white things crawling around through it. Promptly threw it out
of the window and was scolded for it by a fellow prisoner who wanted
it himself. Shall never become hungry enough to eat poor meat. Guards
careless with their guns. An old man shot in the arm. Hendryx tried
to pull a brick out of the casing to throw at the shooter. Barbarians
these rebs.
March 4.—And now we are getting ready to move somewhere, the Lord
only knows where. One good thing about their old prisons, we are
always ready for a change. Have made many new acquaintances while
here in Pemberton, and some agreeable ones; my boy Havens has fever
and chills. Is rather better to-day. It is said we move to-night.
Minnesota Indians confined here, and a number of sailors and marines.
I am quite a hand to look at men, sometimes for hours, and study them
over, then get to talking with them and see how near I was right
in my conjectures. Its almost as good as reading books. The Astor
House Mess is now composed of but four members, E. P. Sanders, F. L.
Lewis, Geo. W. Hendryx and myself; we still adhere to our sanitary
regulations and as a consequence are in better health than a majority
of those here. Sanders may be said to be at the head of the mess,
(we call him Dad,) while Lewis is a sort of moderator and advisor,
with Hendryx and myself as the rank and file. Are quite attached to
one another, and don’t believe that either one would steal from the
other. I certainly wouldn’t take anything short of pumpkin pie or
something of that sort. Of course a man would steal pie, at least
we all say so, and Lewis even declares he would steal dough cakes
and pancakes such as his wife used to make. We are all well dressed,
thanks to the Sanitary Commission and our own ingenuity in getting
what was intended for us to have. False alarm of fire.
Routed at Midnight.
ON THE CARS, March 7, 1864.—We were roused from our gentle slumbers
during the night, counted off and marched to the cars, loaded
into them, which had evidently just had some cattle as occupants.
Started southward to some portion of Georgia, as a guard told us.
Passed through Petersburg, and other towns which I could not learn
the names of. Cars run very slow, and being crowded, we are very
uncomfortable—and hungry. Before leaving Richmond hard-tack was
issued to us in good quantity for the Confederacy. Have not much
chance to write. Bought some boiled sweet potatoes of the guard,
which are boss. The country we pass through is a miserable one.
Guards watch us close to see that none escape, and occasionally a
Yank is shot, but not in our car. Seems as if we did not run over
thirty or forty miles per day. Stop for hours on side tracks, waiting
for other trains to pass us.
March 8.—Were unloaded last night and given a chance to straighten
our limbs. Stayed all night in the woods, side of the track, under a
heavy guard. Don’t know where we are, as guards are very reticent.
March 10.—Still traveling, and unloaded nights to sleep by the track.
Rebel citizens and women improve every opportunity to see live
Yankees. Are fed passably well. Lewis feeling poorly. Watch a chance
to escape but find none.
March 13.—Ran very slow through the night, and are in the vicinity of
Macon, Ga. Will reach our prison to-night. Received a pone of corn
bread apiece weighing about two pounds, which is liberal on their
part. Two more days such riding as this would kill me. The lice are
fairly eating us up alive, having had no chance to rid ourselves
of them since leaving Richmond. One of the guards struck Hendryx
during the night. We were talking on the all important subject, and
the guard hearing us chatting away to ourselves struck over into the
crowd where the noise came from and hit George in the back part of
the head. He didn’t speak for a minute or two and I was afraid it had
killed him, which happily proved to the contrary. As soon as it came
daylight he showed the brute where he had struck him, and took the
occasion to dress him down a little, whereupon the rebel threatened
that if he said another word to him he would blow his head off. A
drizzling rain has set in.
[Illustration: (U.S. flag)]