A day's ration of half a loaf of wheat bread and a nice slice of meat put us in proper condition to examine our quarters. The field comprised about seven acres, somewhat triangular in shape with a twelve-foot-high board-fence surrounding it, on whose outside, about four feet from the top, was a continuous platform for the sentries. Facing the entrance were three little brick houses about 30 x 15 and at their right, at right angles, were three other similar buildings; in one corner stood a large brick edifice, formerly a cotton factory, now called the penitentiary, adjoining which was the prison cook-house; near by were two wooden buildings, one a hospital, the other occupied by citizen prisoners; of the large structure, three rooms were occupied by deserters from our army, and two others by rebel deserters, than whom a more graceless lot I never saw. On the north side of the prison-yard and back of the brick buildings were four wooden shanties, built of rough timbers and occupied by our officers who were captured when we were, separated from us only by the beat and bayonet of the sentinel.
Wood was brought in and distributed in a very peculiar manner, since everybody attacked the load at once and to the strong went the major part of the fuel, while the weaker men had to suffer. On our arrival, the whole enclosure was covered with grass, but it soon disappeared. Meanwhile the days were growing colder and our appetites keener; on our way hither I had sold the stockings off my feet for a boiled beet, now I exchanged a good pair of pantaloons for a miserable rebel pair and five dollars, Confederate scrip, and though my blouse was about worn out I felt as happy as a lark in so doing, for by the proceeds I was able to buy another pair of socks and had enough money left for little extras of food for a week or ten days. There were only three wells in the enclosure (four more were dug later) which yielded hardly water enough for drink, thus putting bathing entirely out of the question. There being no bucket for drawing the water, we supplied its place by our tin cups, which we lowered with strings made from suspenders and bootlegs. Through constant dipping the wells were transformed into mudholes, so that a nominal quart of water was really one-fourth red clay.
Made desperate by the prospects of the coming winter, a plan for an escape was formed to be led by General Joseph Hayes (formerly Colonel Eighteenth Massachusetts Volunteers commanding First Brigade, Second Division, Fifth Corps; captured at the Weldon R. R.) but discovery of the plot resulted in the removal of the officers to Danville, Va., and the collapse of the scheme. For the distribution of food the prisoners were divided into divisions of one thousand each and these into squads of one hundred, each one being looked after by a sergeant from its own numbers. About the 1st of November tents were issued, two to a squad, ours receiving for one the fly of an officer's tent, the other a small McClellan, the two affording protection for only a small part of the squad, and those who got any good from them were the immediate friends of the sergeant. All others had to seek cover under ground which they secured by digging holes, somewhat larger than those of woodchucks, but of the same general nature. Pitiable indeed was the condition of the men by this time, since the heavy rains had turned the whole enclosure into a veritable pig-sty whose soft red clay could be made into bricks without further mixing.
The death-rate increased at an alarming rate, so that from forty to fifty were carried out each day to the dead-house. Nearly all of the workshops had been changed into hospitals, also two floors of the old factory building. The dead-house was one of the lower floors of one of the work-shops where, when the weather was bad and the dead were not readily removed, as many as eighty corpses, stark and cold, could be seen piled one upon the other like corded wood. On the coming of the cart to remove them, they were thrown into the same with the least formality possible and so carried off. As we had no means of bathing, one of the worst features of the yard was the mass of animated insect life. Oh! the horrors of such creatures! Through them it might be said that we suffered a thousand deaths. Never at rest, always vigorous, they inhabited every nook and crevice of that dismal yard. They were worse than death. The terrors of a Spanish Inquisition could not bring to bear a mode of torture so vile as these filthy vermin.
Then the state of the yard! The principal diseases were dysentery and pneumonia, so that disease bred corruption and malaria. Those who were taken sick, if their squad sergeant were attentive, were carried to Hospital No. 3, and if, on examination, it were evident that the ailment was incurable, he was sent to a hospital to die. The good wheat bread of our earlier rations was changed to corn bread, made of the coarsest cob meal and given to us with rancid molasses. Meat was issued, after a time, about once in fifteen days and then at the rate of eight pounds of beef and bones to a hundred men. At such times all parts of the creatures were used; the heads with eyes and horns still attached were often issued and in some way made victuals of. All small bones capable of being chewed were swallowed as a dog gulps his osseous food and the larger and harder ones were crushed with stones and boiled for hours; the soup thus obtained was thought a great luxury. To obtain salt a day's ration would be exchanged for enough of this necessity to last a fortnight or so, of course the exchange meant a fast for the day whose ration was traded.
Occasionally flour or meal was given us in the raw and without salt; this was cooked into paste and gruel and very thankful all were to get it; oftentimes the prisoners were kept on one-half the regular rations, possibly one-quarter of the time, and sometimes we went as many as three days with no bread whatever. It was this starvation process that drove good men to enlist in the southern army. About the 12th of November a thick cup of rice soup was given out; the next and the following day, we got only rice water, then came flour without salt. Wood was now issued regularly, each squad getting four sticks of eight foot timber. This particular afternoon it was green pine. To add to our troubles a mist arose, so that the only way we could cook our food was by piling the logs on top of each other and placing a coal underneath which we took turns in keeping alive with our breath, till all had cooked their meal. It was a hapless sight that we afforded that afternoon, black with dirt and smoke, as we ate our food. We had gone so long without food that we had almost lost the sense of hunger and this little meal only served to wake our appetite. Before eating my ration, I could walk about the yard without resting; afterwards I was so weak that I fainted in going to my tent, for I was failing rapidly; my old pantaloons were worn out and slit from the knee downward; the sleeves of my shirt and blouse were almost gone, my shoes and socks worn through, my hair matted with dirt and filth, my complexion that of a negro, my body truly was more dead than alive.
My condition was that of my associates in misery, and it was then that the rebel authorities opened a recruiting station in our midst, offering a loaf of bread and fifty dollars in gold to each one who would enlist; six hundred went out. With the exception of a few desperate characters, all hearts were softened at the sight of so much misery, the faint hearted had mostly enlisted in the rebel ranks and those who remained were true blue and had determined, live or die, to stand fast to their principles. Without anything being said, oaths began to be dropped and testaments to be read; while cant was never so ridiculous and intolerable, true religion and a pure morality began to be the life of the mass.
About the last of November, a friend with whom I had become acquainted on Belle Isle was appointed wardmaster of Hospital No. 5; hearing of my condition, he sent for me. I went and was received like a brother, the dirt washed from me, there being plenty of water in the hospitals, clothes taken from men who had died were given me and I was nursed, cared for and fed out of his own rations till my life, which was slowly ebbing away, was coaxed back again. This friend, a total stranger before my capture, was a sergeant in a Pennsylvania cavalry regiment and our acquaintance began at a devotional meeting where were laid the foundations of the strongest Christian friendship. He was a veritable ministering angel to all those who came under his care, and from his conduct I learned that Christianity was not merely a sentiment but a life, not an idea but a reality.
As remarked before, few cases were admitted to the hospital that were not considered hopeless; from our ward of two rooms, having forty patients, five or six would be carried to the dead-house every night. Army surgeons are bad enough anywhere, but those provided at Salisbury were worse than the common run. Coming in at the time appointed, they never came at any other, they would go along the line of men lying on the floor, hitting the patient with their feet to attract attention, would contemptuously inquire, "Well, what's the matter with you to-day?" and, without waiting for a reply, would prescribe any one of the medicines that happened to cross their minds. There were, indeed, three honorable exceptions, but they could only express their sympathy by words of encouragement. Our ward doctor, the most of the time, was a medical student of the latter class.
November 25th came a decided effort to break out; unfortunately the plot had not been worked up so that a sufficient number understood the plan, so that the effort was made at two instead of four o'clock, when only three divisions had been prepared. On the appearance of the relief at that time, someone gave the watchword, "Who's for liberty?" and, as quick as a flash, every one of those sentinels was disarmed and the boys were using their guns against the sentinels on the fence. The noise of the struggle of course soon brought the troops to the scene and forming on the fence began firing. If theirs had been the only resistance, we might have succeeded; unfortunately for us, the Sixty-ninth North Carolina, a newly recruited regiment, was just outside, awaiting transportation, and they were brought to the support of the guards, and many of the Salisbury citizens, afraid of their property if we got away, trotted down with their fowling pieces and old flintlocks. The fence was soon covered with enemies who began a murderous fire on every tent in the yard, though not a third part of the prisoners knew what was up until it was too late and then, recognizing the hopelessness of the effort, everyone tried to hide himself from the terrible fire. The guards having recovered from their fright proceeded to exercise vengeance by discharging the two pieces of artillery loaded with boiler screws amongst us. No one knows how many were killed, but sixty or seventy were wounded, most of them lying in their tents. The wounded were all placed in the same hospital, were all treated with the same surgical tools and gangrene set in with all, and all, save two or three, died.