On the 17th of February we were ordered to get ready to leave for Richmond
for exchange. The order was received with the most extravagant
demonstrations of joy; officers who had heretofore been sedate and gloomy,
throwing their arms around each other in the wildest excitement. Some
laughed and shouted, some wept for joy, while others gave vent to their
feelings by singing "Rally 'Round the Flag," "The Red, White and Blue,"
"The Star Spangled Banner," and other patriotic songs. All were jubilant,
all were happy, and all were excited. With buoyant hearts and happy faces
the preparations to move were made. Not having many possessions,
everything was soon in readiness, and never was the order to fall in
obeyed with greater alacrity, or with more cheerfulness, than was the
order of the Reb Sergeant that morning at Danville.
Soon we were all comfortably (?) seated in the sweetly perfumed cattle
cars, and were flying towards Richmond at the rate of twelve miles an
hour. On to Richmond, was shouted by the jubilant prisoners, as we
started from Danville.
The next day we were ushered into that notorious prison hell of the South,
Libby prison, presided over by the equally notorious Dick Turner. While at
Danville one officer was shot in the hand, by the guard, who fired at
random through the window, because one of the officers accidentally
spilled some water on the window sill, and it ran down upon him. Major D.
Colden Ruggles, died in the hospital, and Lieutenants Baily, Quigley,
Harris, Helm and Davis, escaped by means of the oven heretofore described.
How many of the nearly two thousand enlisted men in Danville died, I have
no means of knowing, but the mortality was not as great there as in
Salisbury. Libby prison, and the treatment of federal prisoners there, has
been so frequently described that I will not attempt a description.
I was there but a short time, but was told by those who had been there
before, that Dick Turner seemed to be on his good behavior, and was
evidently thinking of the day of reckoning.
We found Libby prison nearly filled with our enlisted men, whose emaciated
forms told more plainly than words could possibly do, the terrible
sufferings they had endured. They were confined in separate rooms from us,
but we managed to pass them provisions through the openings in the
partition, and also to converse with them. We were shown where and how the
wonderful tunnel that secured freedom to quite a number of officers, and
came near setting the whole prison at liberty, was started and where it
ended. We were shown Castle Thunder, which at one time contained a number
of prisoners, and where I believe Dr. Mary Walker, of Oswego, was at one
time confined.
While at Richmond, General Hayes came in to see us, and said he was
detailed to distribute the clothing to our men, which our government had
sent for them, and as we would be home before he would, he gave us, Lieut.
Leyden and myself, the letters and checks we had given to the old reb at
Danville, in exchange for fourteen hundred dollars in Confederate money.
And, shall I confess it, in a fit of absent-mindedness (?) I tore them up
and threw them into the stove, thus saving the bother of taking them to
Riggs & Co., at Washington. I have forgotten the old gentleman's name who
so greatly befriended me by giving me such a liberal supply of money
which, although worthless to him, served to supply myself and a number of
my comrades, with the best the Confederacy afforded, for the balance of
our stay in rebeldom.
Our stay in Richmond was of short duration, but we left it without regret.
On the twentieth of February, we were again ordered to "pack up," and this
time for home. I cannot describe the wild tumult of joy with which the
order was received. Many of the enlisted men, who with us occupied the
building, though in a separate appartment, and to whom we had managed to
smuggle some of our rations, were too weak to walk alone, and were obliged
to walk between two of their comrades, who supported them to the boat and
tenderly cared for them. Their emaciated forms and lusterless eyes, told a
painful story of the starvation and suffering they had endured for the
preservation of their country, and for their loyalty to the flag.
And yet there are those even here in the North, who grew rich through
THEIR sufferings, who begrudge them the beggarly pittance of a pension of
a few dollars a month, to keep them from the poor house; when, by their
heroic fortitude, and their indescribable sufferings, they made it
possible for the bonds of the government to be worth a _hundred cents on
the dollar in gold_; made it possible for these very men to be to-day
enjoying the luxury of wealth in a happy and prosperous land; to be
citizens of a country whose treasury is overflowing to such an extent that
the President of the United States has deemed it necessary to cry out in
alarm, that the country is in danger from a too plethoric treasury. These
same heroic souls who twenty-five years ago, by their loyalty to the old
flag, and whose patriotic devotion to the principles of universal freedom,
led them to offer themselves upon the altar of their country, if they
escaped a horrible death by starvation and are still living, are looked
upon by many who profited so largely by their sacrifices, as beggars,
because they ask to be remunerated for their shattered health, by a small
pittance of ten or twelve dollars a month, to assist them in their old age
and decrepitude.
On the morning of the 20th of February, 1865, the last ration of corn
bread was issued, and I determined to preserve mine and bring it home to
show to my friends. This I did, and have kept it ever since. It was
twenty-three years old the 20th of February, 1888, and is still in a fair
state of preservation, and on every anniversary of its issue to me, that
old Libby prison ration and I have a little celebration, and revive old
memories.
We were placed on board river steamers, which were skillfully piloted
around the numerous torpedoes that had been sunk for the destruction of
our gun-boats, should they attempt to assist in the capture of Richmond,
and past the iron-clad monsters that were stationed all along for the
protection of that rebel stronghold, and were conveyed to Varina landing,
where, as we disembarked, we were met by an equal number of rebs who had
been prisoners in our hands, and who returned on the same boats that took
us down.
The contrast in the looks and appearances of these gray-backs and our poor
boys, was painfully apparent. They were in robust health, full of life and
vitality, and fit to at once take the field again, while our boys were
scarcely able, many of them, to climb up the bank at the landing, without
assistance. While they showed the effects of rest and plenty of wholesome
food, our poor comrades showed equally the terrible effects of starvation
and disease. They were in excellent condition to again at once go into
active service, while we would need months of careful nursing, before any
of us could again endure the hardships of camp life; and a large
proportion, were forever broken in health, and would never again be able
to perform the duties of a soldier.
We still had a march of six miles to make, before we reached the Union
lines. Ambulances were in waiting, to convey those who were too feeble to
endure the march, and the rest of us who had strength enough left, trudged
along on foot.