Entrance into Belle Island Prison Pen.
On Sept. 30, 1863, we arrived on Belle Island, which is located in the
James River, in front and a little above Richmond, Va., then the
capital of the Southern Confederacy. The train stopped on the south
side of the river and we were ordered to alight and were conducted
down to the bridge and across it to the island. The Confederate iron
works were located on the island, near the bridge, it was now getting
dark and as we passed them they seemed to be all aglow from the light
of the fires within, and one of the boys remarked in a joking way:
“Here are the iron works, and the next place will be h——l.” I guess
the prison pen on the island, into which we were placed a few moments
later, about filled the bill.
We soon arrived at the place where we were to be confined, and found
it to consist of several acres of ground, surrounded by a ditch about
two feet deep and three feet wide, with the soil thrown up on the
outside, which formed the dead-line. Outside of this the guards paced
back and forth. Any person stepping upon this line would be shot down
without a moment’s warning. There were 7,000 or 8,000 prisoners
confined on this small area of ground. Nearly one-half of them were
without any shelter whatever, and many had no blankets or overcoats.
We arrived at our new quarters in the evening, and after partaking of
a scanty meal looked about for a spot large enough to lie down upon to
sleep. I found a place that reminded me of the garden beds we used to
make at home, it being slightly raised, with a path around it.
Probably this had been made by some of the prisoners, to keep the
water off in case of heavy rains. We now made preparations to retire,
which were very simple. As many as could crowd upon this small space
of ground lay down, in spoon fashion; that is, all lying with our
faces turned in the same direction, and fitted together as one would
spoons in packing them away, in order to have sufficient room and keep
as warm as possible. We had nothing under us except the cold, bare
earth, and nothing over us except a pup tent (a piece of muslin six
feet square) and the blue sky, which was rather light covering. We had
advantages on the island in some respects that we did not possess at
home, we were not obliged to open the windows to air our beds. My
outfit of clothing consisted of shirt, pants, cavalry jacket, boots
and hat. I used my hat in place of a nightcap, to keep my head from
coming in contact with the ground. I generally felt quite chilly
during the night, and did not sleep soundly. Got up in the morning and
found that the surroundings looked very discouraging. Did not see a
soul that I knew, but saw many prisoners, some of whom had been
confined here for months. These appeared ragged, dirty, and
discouraged to the last degree. Rations were very small, and we were
hungry continually, but had plenty of river water to drink. From Belle
Isle a fairly good view of the city of Richmond was had. We could
plainly see a building in which Jefferson Davis, the president of the
Southern Confederacy, resided, and also some of the large brick
buildings in which were confined many Union soldiers. The famous Libby
Prison, in which was a large number of Federal officers, stood very
close to the James River, in plain view from the island.
I remained here six days, and was then transferred to the city of
Richmond. On arriving there I, in company with other prisoners,
entered Libby Prison through the wide door at the northwest corner of
the building.
We were introduced into Libby for the purpose of being searched, were
formed into line, and then the search commenced. It was bossed by a
man named Dick Turner. We were closely searched, and everything of
value taken from us and confiscated. I possessed but very little
property at that time. A two dollar greenback and a one dollar
Confederate bill was all the money in my possession. I had also an old
dilapidated pocketbook, but it was of no value and therefore was not
confiscated. My two dollar greenback they were unable to find. I
bought bread with it later on. Bread sold at enormous prices, and a
man could easily eat in one day what he could buy for a dollar
greenback.
[Illustration: Libby Prison, West Side.]
From Libby we were transferred to and confined in a large four-story
brick building, called the Smith Prison. It had formerly been used as
a tobacco factory, but was now a prison for Federal soldiers. I was
confined on the third floor, with about three hundred other prisoners.
This was a large room, but after lying down at night the floor was
about covered with men. There was scarcely room enough for a person to
walk through between the rows of men. Here we were well sheltered, but
suffered another extreme, being nearly suffocated on account of not
having proper ventilation; not even being allowed to open a window
wide enough to admit sufficient fresh air to supply the number of
prisoners within.
[Illustration: Libby Prison, Northeast.]
One day while I was standing near a window, two of my comrades stepped
upon the window sill and pulled the window slightly down, to admit
some fresh air; when immediately a shot was fired by the guard
outside. The ball passed through the window at an angle of about
thirty degrees, fortunately missed the boys who opened the window, but
passed up through the floor above us, which also contained a large
number of prisoners, and unfortunately the ball passed through one of
them, severely wounding him. He was carried downstairs, passing
through our room, and outside, I suppose to some hospital.
There were about three hundred of us confined within this room, for a
term of about two months, and during all that time we were hardly
allowed to draw a breath of fresh air. What I mean by this is, air
that was not contaminated by the foul air of the prison. This and
starvation, together, weakened us to an alarming degree. Our rations
were issued once a day, and we generally devoured them at one meal,
and still felt hungry. It was really just enough to make one meal a
day. The order to draw rations generally came in the following manner.
The Confederate orderly would enter the room and cry out: “Sargin ob de
floor, four men and four blankets.” This announcement in the southern
dialect soon became a proverb among the boys. The “sargin ob de floor”
would then detail four men and four blankets (blankets were a scarce
article but generally enough were found to carry the rations) to carry
the rations to our room. They would hasten down the stairs, and then
those left behind anxiously crowded around the windows, pale, hungry,
and each one eager to catch the first glimpse of the returning four
men and four blankets with the morsel of bread, and soup (the soup
being carried in buckets). This was composed of small beans, some
being black and others red, and nearly every one was hollow and
contained several black bugs enclosed, with hard shells. When the
beans were boiled the bugs separated from them, and became mixed all
through the soup, and while eating it we were obliged to grind the
bugs between our teeth, which made me think of chewing parched corn or
grinding coffee. The ingredients of the soup except the beans and bugs
were unknown to us. Some declared that there was mule meat in it,
judging from the bones found in the soup. I was almost famished for a
meat diet, but did not care to have it in bug form. The bread rations
consisted of brown bread, which tasted good to me, but we could not
tell of what it was composed. The quantity was so small that it failed
to satisfy our hunger. Part of the time while in this building we
received corn-bread instead of the brown bread, and occasionally a
small piece of meat, the quantity being too small to be mentioned. The
soup was named by some of the men “bug soup,” and it was a very
appropriate name, as the bugs seemed to make the biggest show.
Our beds consisted of the bare floor. For covering I had my
indispensable pup tent. We remained in this building during the months
of October and November, and during that time there was no fire in the
room, but any quantity of foul air, which at times was so terrible
that I believe it was poison to us. The closet was located at or in
one corner of the room. It was nothing more than a space about six or
eight feet in length and several feet wide, and extended down to the
basement to the depth of twenty or twenty-five feet. It was enclosed
on three sides, and the side which opened into our room or prison had
no door. It remained open all the time that we were confined in this
place. I do not know whether there was sufficient water at the bottom
of the closet to carry away all the refuse or not, but by what we saw
I think not. The condition of the atmosphere was simply horrible
beyond description. At times it seemed as if we would certainly
suffocate. In this condition about three hundred of us lived, slept,
and dined, for a period of about two months in the room just
mentioned. We usually became quite chilly during the night, while
lying on the cold floor. Our clothing was thin, as we were captured
during warm weather and therefore were not prepared for winter.
While in the Smith Prison I formed an acquaintance with a number of
the boys, with whom many good talks were enjoyed about our homes and
friends so far away, and those we had left several years before,
perhaps never to see again. My most intimate friend while there was a
“Doc.” Davis who belonged I think to the 55th Indiana Infantry. Davis
and I bunked together, as we called it. Each possessed a pup tent,
which we doubled for a covering at night. Davis was not feeling well
here. He would arise in the morning, sometimes groaning with pain,
caused by lying on the cold, hard floor all night. He died soon after
his return from prison.
I also formed acquaintance with a man named Scott, and another named
Seaman, both members of the 21st Wisconsin, and very fine boys they
were. Both of them died in prison. We nightly dreamed of getting
something good to eat, for this idea was uppermost in our minds, and
we were constantly reminded of it by the gnawing hunger endured. Many
times I dreamed of being at home and eating of the luxuries to be
found there. Oh, what a disappointment on awaking from such happy
dreams, to find myself in such a wretched condition as we were. Many
of the men soon became weak and disabled, from the poisonous
atmosphere created by the breathing of the several hundred men
confined here, and the horrid stench from the closet. The starvation
and feeling of utter despair to which they gave way was also a factor.
They became so emaciated that many were unable to stand up during roll
call. This was usually called once a day by a spry little man named
Ross. The boys named him “Jack of Clubs.” I well remember his
countenance. Whenever he came in to call the roll, and any of the boys
did not get up quick enough to suit him, he would go to them and abuse
them in a brutal manner. Those who were sick and unable to rise he
frequently left for days and weeks before reporting to the hospital.
He always came in accompanied by a large man, carrying an old musket
barrel in his hand. Three or four guards also accompanied him. The man
with the musket barrel generally helped to get the boys in line by
cuffing them. Roll call took place early in the day, after which we
would begin “skirmishing for graybacks” (as we called it) of which we
all had a good supply.
This occupation helped us to pass away some of the long, tedious hours
of our confinement. Some perhaps do not understand what is meant by
the word “grayback,” which I will now explain. A grayback is a small,
carnivorous insect—or plainly speaking a louse—which infests the inner
garments of a person who is unable to change his clothing frequently,
which was the case with us in the prisons. In fact we never changed
our garments while in prison. It was not stylish to do so, and if it
had been we could not, as we possessed only what we had on our backs
and they changed themselves. Some were obliged to wear their shirts
until they literally wore off, or were kicked to pieces by the
graybacks and fell from their backs. I will now explain what is meant
by skirmishing. It was taking off our shirts, turning them inside out,
and carefully searching for and killing the graybacks, which were
sometimes very numerous, and tormented us in such a way at night that
we were scarcely able to sleep.
[Illustration: Skirmishing for Graybacks.]
The mode of killing these graybacks was as follows: As stated before,
the garment was turned inside out, and then the game was soon found,
overtaken and slain. Our weapons consisted of our thumb nails. The
hands were placed near each other in about the position that a person
would hold them when knitting with knitting needles, with the upper
part of the thumb nails nearly touching. When in operation the
movement of the hands was about the same as it would be when knitting.
This work might properly have been called “knitting,”because nits were
more numerous than graybacks. In the work mentioned above the results
depended upon the amount of labor performed; the faster we worked the
more we accomplished. These pests had become so numerous that it was
all a well man could do to keep them within a reasonable limit. These
miserable tormenters were always hungry like ourselves, because they
had poor pasture feeding on our bodies. Sometimes when things in
prison were reasonably quiet many of those insects would venture out
on the vacant spaces of the floor, and it was amusing to us boys to
watch their maneuvers. A number of us would sometimes be sitting in a
row on the floor, with our backs to the wall, and suddenly our
attention would be turned to a number of these pests in groups about
the floor. Of course the boys would make remarks about their
performance. Some would say: “Hello, the graybacks are going on dress
parade.” Others declared they were foraging parties, looking for
provisions, and would call out: “Look out, boys, they are looking you
fellows over to find out which one of you has any meat left on him,
and then they will go for you.”Those men who were weak and helpless
were nearly eaten alive by these millions of parasites. It did not
seem unreasonable when one of the men declared that he had seen a dead
man with quarts of graybacks upon him. No doubt but that the days of
these poor sick boys were materially shortened by these insects.
I used my boots for a pillow at night, while trying to sleep, by
placing them together in a way that would locate the most congenial
part of the boots next to and in contact with my head. I found a
contrast between my pillow and one composed of good goose feathers,
but the boot pillow was a decided improvement over the hard floor, and
it was also the best that could be done under the circumstances, as we
could get no rubbish of any kind to place under our heads, and I did
not dare to take off my jacket to use as a pillow, or I would have
chilled. The boot pillow was a severe test on the phrenological organs
of the head. Some of my comrades feared that we might receive fatal
injuries from the effects of our hard pillows, and others allowed that
it would improve our fighting qualities by an enlargement of that
organ. I was not the only one who endured the pangs of a hard pillow.
Nearly or quite all suffered the same, in common. There was no
partiality shown in this; the hardships were as free as water for all,
and the hard pillow was not the only torture, when we tried to sleep
in the Smith Prison. As I stated before, our clothing was thin, and
what meat was left on us also thin. And when lying on the hard floor
at night, trying to sleep, it seemed as if our bones were determined
to punch holes through our grayback-eaten hides. Some thought if we
ever got out of prison Uncle Sam would be obliged to patch us up, like
a person would patch an old torn garment.
My opinion was that there would be but very few of us left that would
be worth patching after the Southern Confederacy was through with us,
and I think now that I was correct. No person can comprehend the
extent of the intense suffering endured by the men in prison except
those who were confined in them. We suffered a dozen things at the
same time, that made us miserable. They occur to me as follows:
Starvation, cold, bad ventilation, tormented by graybacks, filthy
clothing, no opportunity for bathing, bad sanitation, close
confinement, food of poor quality, soreness caused by sleeping on the
bare floor, the sight of so much misery all about us, and the thought
of being domineered over by a cruel keeper. I had the pleasure (?) of
enjoying (?) with hundreds of other comrades all the hardships just
mentioned, which was a great combination of torments and as I thought
a severe dose.
Trading with the guards became an extensive business considering the
amount of capital invested. Capital with us was very small, on account
of our having been closely searched by the Confederates before
entering prison. All money and valuables that could be found on our
persons were confiscated, but they were unable to find all the
greenbacks that the boys had hidden in their clothing in various ways.
When starvation began to take effect they used this money to purchase
bread from the guards, at enormous prices. Some of the guards were
very clever fellows, and would do favors for us when the officers were
not about. Sometimes they furnished us with the Richmond papers, which
was against the orders of the Confederacy. Thereby we were enabled to
get a little of the outside news.
Sometime in November we received some rations from Uncle Sam, which
were sent through the Confederate lines to us. This partly supplied us
for about a week, after which we received no more during our
imprisonment. Some days later I read an order in a Richmond paper as
follows: “No more rations or clothing shall be allowed to come through
the Confederate lines to prisoners of war in our possession.”Signed by
those in authority in the Confederate government. They claimed that it
was a disgrace for them to allow our government to feed us. The famous
Confederate commander of cavalry, John Morgan, came into our prison
one day in November. He seemed to be looking for some person or
persons, as he passed through the room, but I never heard whether he
found the one he was searching for. I well remember his looking us
over very closely.
An Ohio boy, whose name I cannot recall, did some trading with the
guards with the intention of procuring a Confederate uniform. The
place where the trading was usually done was at the foot of the lower
stairway, where a door opened into a reception room, which also had a
door opening into the street or on to the sidewalk. A guard was
stationed at the foot of the stairway, and another at the door which
opened from this room into the street. This constituted a double
guard.
A number of Confederates who were not on duty would enter this room,
bringing with them some articles of food, and any prisoner who was
fortunate enough to have some greenbacks could purchase, at enormous
prices. This Ohio boy, mentioned, first traded for a Confederate cap,
next a coat, and third, a pair of pants which were of the grey
Confederate uniform. He did not procure them all the same day. He
brought them upstairs into our room and took off his blue suit and put
on the grey. He then walked down the stairway and commenced trading
with the Confederates who were standing about the room. While they
were busy trading he passed the inner guard and into the reception
room unnoticed, and then walked leisurely about the room, talking to
the Confederates, not being particularly noticed by them, and finally
walked past the outer guard into the street. The guards no doubt
supposed him to be one of their own men on account of his being
dressed in a grey uniform. He walked leisurely up the street to a
bakery, where he purchased some bread, and then retraced his steps,
walking back past our prison, which was the last time we saw him Some
time later we learned that he had made his escape to the Union lines.
He certainly was a shrewd boy.