When I realized that we were in the hands of the enemy, but before they had gotten to where I was, I lay down on my face in the ditch alongside of the wounded and dead, pretending myself to be dead. I had the most awful feeling while lying there imaginable, and felt that at any moment I might be thrust through with a bayonet, and the feeling was so intense that as soon as I heard the Yankees tramping about me and calling upon the men to surrender, I got up and surrendered. If I had only had presence of mind enough to have lain on my back and watched them from the corner of my eye, I might have pa.s.sed through the ordeal and escaped after they left, as they did not remain long.

In the first place, the men were cavalrymen, and hence had no bayonets.

Then again, the Confederate bullets were hissing about their ears in such a manner that they never would have thought of testing a "Johnnie Reb" in that way in order to see whether he was really dead or playing possum.

The other incident was the second night after our capture. It was still raining, and the weather was quite cool for the season (it was about the 10th of May). We were all wet to the skin, and nearly starved. We were stopped in a field, a guard placed around us, an old cow driven up and shot, and we were told to help ourselves. So every fellow that could get a knife went up and cut his own steak. They gave us some fence rails, out of which we made little fires and broiled our cow meat. She may have been tough and old, and I know we had no salt, but the meat was as sweet to us as any porterhouse steak we had ever eaten.

We huddled together for the night like pigs, and slept comfortably, notwithstanding we had tramped the earth into a mud hole.

But to go back to the crossing of the Chickahominy river. Once across that river, the enemy seemed to have very little opposition to their march toward the James.

I know it was a long, weary march, and their horses were giving out all along the way. When a horse got too sore-footed to travel, he was shot, and as we pa.s.sed along we saw hundreds of these horses, with the warm life-blood flowing from a hole in their foreheads, lying by the side of the road. This was done to prevent the horses from falling into the hands of the Confederates.

When we got in sight of the James river, the prisoners were halted in an orchard, and rested there for an hour or so. Just over the fence were some little pigs, with their tails curled around like a curl on a girl's head, rooting around for something nice to eat. One of the prisoners called to a Yankee to catch a pig and throw it over the fence. He at once made a dive for the pigs and got one, and threw it to us. A great crowd rushed for the pig, every fellow with a knife in his hand, and as many as could get hold of the little fellow began cutting into his anatomy. I had hold of one of the hind legs, and while we cut, the pig squealed. I got a whole ham for my share. Of course, I shared it with my comrades.

We gathered sticks and built little fires, and had a grand feast of roast pig. My, it was sweet! There was neither ceremony, pepper nor salt.

Soon after this banquet we were marched to the James river, put on a steamer, and our empty stomachs filled to the brim with a good dinner.

The first course was good beef soup, thickened with vegetables. We certainly enjoyed it. Then came roast beef and real baker's bread (something we hadn't had for an age).

But to go back to Spottsylvania Courthouse. Grant's efforts to get to Richmond by breaking through Lee's lines were as ineffectual there as they had been in the Wilderness two days before. So he packed his grip (so to speak) and made another move toward the James river.

These two battles, of course, had reduced his fighting forces materially, but the Government at Washington kept filling up his ranks and supplying him with every need. In fact, in one case particularly, they sent him more war material than he could use, and rather than enc.u.mber his march, he sent 100 cannon back to Washington, while the poor Confeds had no such source of supply, and had to be content with making the best of the material they had.

Gen. Lee moved his army in a parallel line with Grant's, and kept in his front, ready to dispute his pa.s.sage if he attempted to move forward.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 5: General Longstreet gives 63,998 as the total strength of Lee's army in this campaign. Longstreet was severely wounded at the Battle of the Wilderness by a bullet shot through the neck. Was carried from the field on a litter, and was unable to return to the army for several months. Lee had lost the services of Jos. E. Johnson, Jackson, Longstreet, and a few days later J.E.B. Stuart. These were his ablest lieutenants.]

CHAPTER IX.

_From James River to Petersburg._

"Down on the left of the Rebel lines, Where a breastwork stands on a copse of pines, Before the Rebels their ranks can form, The Yankees have carried the place by storm."

I think it was about the 12th of May when Grant began his march from Spottsylvania, and it was, I think, the 3rd of June when he made another attempt at Cold Harbor to enter Richmond by breaking through Lee's army, and another desperate battle was fought, but the losses were not so great as they were at the Wilderness or Spottsylvania. Grant, however, was again defeated, and continued his march toward the James river. In this battle the colonel of my regiment (Flournoy) was killed. He was a dashing young colonel, but not as prudent as an officer should be. At the time he was killed he was standing on the top of the breastworks, behind which men were fighting, shouting defiance at the enemy, and challenging them to come out in the open and fight it out. Of course, it did not take them long to put a bullet through his body. At one time he was major of the regiment, then lieutenant-colonel, and on the retirement of his father, he was made colonel. His father was once Governor of the State. Richards, Captain of Company C, was made colonel of our regiment, and held this position during the war. He had commanded a company of cavalry from Clark county, Virginia.

Grant differed from other commanders who fought the army of Northern Virginia in this respect--he refused to acknowledge defeat. If his attacks failed at one point after repeated attempts, he would move his army to the left and attack again. This he kept up to the end of the war.

Not being able to reach Richmond by attacking Lee on the north side of the river, he crossed his main army to the south side, and stretching out his line of battle from the James to Petersburg, began a long siege, that lasted through the fall and winter till late in the spring.

Now to go back to prison.

The steamer on which we were placed and given such a good, substantial dinner, soon after this took its departure down the James and landed us at Fortress Monroe, where we were put in an inclosure with a number of other prisoners, and among them the officers and crew of the British steamer "Grayhound," that had been captured while trying to run a blockade into one of the Southern ports.

They all seemed to be Southern sympathizers, and whenever they had an opportunity showed the Confederate prisoners much kindness, even going so far as to distribute gold among them, of which they seemed to have an abundant supply. This was, of course, done on the sly, and the Confederates were careful to conceal these gifts. Those who were well enough off to wear stockings, slipped the gold in their stocking-leg.

Some put it in their mouths. This was necessary, as the prisoners were frequently searched.

These Englishmen were loud in their protests, and were making all kinds of threats as to what their Government would do if it learned of their treatment.

After remaining there a few days the Confederates were again marched aboard a steamer and taken to "Point Lookout," where a regular prison-camp had been established. I think there were about 15,000 prisoners at this camp guarded by negro troops, which made our Southern blood boil. As the darkies used to say, "The bottom rail had got on top."

The camp was on a point of land formed by the junction of the Potomac river and Chesapeake Bay on the north side of the river. I imagine there were about ten acres of ground, surrounded by a high board fence, probably about 14 feet high. Just below the top was built a platform about three feet wide, and on this platform the guards walked to and fro with their guns on their shoulders. From their position they could overlook the whole camp, as the ground was perfectly level. There was also a strong guard inside the camp, while artillery and regiments of infantry were stationed near the camp to guard it from outside attack, and one or more gunboats patrolled the waters that nearly surrounded the camp.

Notwithstanding this precaution, occasionally prisoners made their escape. One ingenious method that baffled our guards for a long time was the following:

The prisoners were allowed to go outside of the enclosure on the beach to bathe. And if an empty barrel or box happened to be floating on the water, a prisoner in bathing would watch his opportunity, slip his head under the barrel or box, and then as the tide drifted up the river, would follow it, keeping as near the sh.o.r.e as necessary until he got beyond the reach of the guard, and then take to the woods.

The punishment for trying to escape was cruel. Those who were caught at it were strung up to a pole by the thumbs, with the tips of their toes just touching the ground. Sometimes the men would faint, and had to be cut down.

Upon the whole, prison life was very monotonous. It was an unhealthy camp; so much so, that the prisoners considered that they had a better chance for their lives fighting in the army.

The water was brackish and unpleasant to the taste. The only water we had was from pumps scattered about over the camps, and during the four months that I was there the pumps were always surrounded by a thirsty crowd of from 40 to 50 prisoners, each with his tincup, trying to wedge his way in, that he might quench his thirst.

The food, while good, was very scant. Breakfast consisted of coffee and a loaf of bread, which, under ordinary circ.u.mstances, with vegetables and other food, would probably suffice for two meals. This loaf was given us at breakfast, and if we ate it all then we went without bread for dinner. If there was any left over we took it to our tents, laid it on the ground, and saved it for dinner.

The dinners consisted of a tincup of soup (generally bean or other vegetable), a small piece of meat on a tinplate, on which a little vinegar was poured to prevent scurvy. My recollection is we had no other meal, but my mind is not perfectly clear on this point. I do know, however, that we were always hungry, and the chief topic of conversation was the sumptuous meals we had sat down to in other days.

As I recalled the tables of former years laden with bacon, cabbage, potatoes and hominy, I remember how I reproached myself for not having eaten more when I had the opportunity. Delicacies never entered into the discussion; it was always the plain, simple foods that we talked about and longed for.

We were told that the short rations were given us in retaliation for the scanty food supplied to their soldiers in Southern prisons.

The hospitals were crowded all the time, and there were many sick in the camp waiting their opportunity to go into hospitals.

We lived in what is known as Sibley tents, shaped like a bell, with an opening in the top about 15 inches in diameter.

There were 12 men to a tent, who, when they slept, arranged themselves in a circle, like the spokes of a wagon, with their feet toward the center. These tents were as close as they could stand on the ground, with wide avenues between every two rows of tents, thus allowing every tent to front on an avenue.

Every day the prisoners were called out of their tents and formed in line; roll was called and the prisoners searched. And while they were being searched, the guards were searching the tents. For just what purpose this search was done I do not know, unless it was for fear that arms might be smuggled in to be used by the prisoners for making their escape.

Many of the prisoners had a peculiar affection of the eyes, caused, perhaps, by the glare from the white tents, the sand, and the reflection from the water. There was nothing green to be seen anywhere, consequently many of the prisoners became blind for a portion of the 24 hours. Just as the sun was sinking behind the fence they would become totally blind, and had to be led about by someone. As morning light came the blindness would disappear.

Some of the prisoners who were mechanics or artisans got work outside, but I believe they got no pay except full rations and the privilege of bringing things into camp, such as blocks of wood, pieces of metal, etc.

Out of these were manufactured a great many interesting little articles--small steam locomotives, wooden fans, rings from rubber b.u.t.tons set with gold and silver, and sometimes gems. One ingenious fellow built a small distillery and made whiskey from potato rinds or whatever refuse he could pick up, and got drunk on the product.

All about the camp were boards on which these manufactured articles were exposed for sale. A cracker would buy a chew of tobacco. The tobacco was cut up into chews and half chews. The crackers were brought in by the men who went out to work. I cannot recall all the curious things that were exposed for sale within the camp.

Whilst in prison, twice I was very kindly remembered by Miss Melissa Baker of Baltimore, Md., who sent me boxes containing provisions, clothing, towels, soap, toothbrush, jars of preserves, cooked ham, crackers, lemons, tea, coffee and sugar. When I received the first box I just concluded that I was going to kill myself eating. I ate, and ate, and ate. I simply could not stop; and so did all my comrades in the tent.

So, of course, the box didn't last long. However, at first I suffered no evil consequences, but finally, like most of the other prisoners, was taken sick (but not from eating), and my comrades made application for my entrance into the hospital. I had to wait a week or ten days before there was a vacancy. I was carried there on a stretcher, and was so sick that I had to be fed.

Soon after my entrance into the hospital Caleb Rector was brought in.

His home was on the turnpike between Middleburg and Upperville. He had a scorching fever, and was soon delirious. I put my hand on him, and the heat almost burned me. One day a nurse took a wet towel and put it on his forehead. Although he was unconscious, I saw a smile play over his face, and as the nurse was bending over him he reached up one hand and caught the nurse by the hair; then pulling his head down, and lifting the wet towel with his other hand, tried to put it on the nurse's forehead. That act revealed the character of the man. He was open-hearted and generous, and the cool towel on his forehead was so pleasant to him that he wanted the nurse to share it with him.

[Ill.u.s.tration: GEN. A.P. HILL,