The Last Ninety Days of the War in North-Carolina

by Cornelia Phillips Spencer

Governor Vance's career from the first was marked by devotion to the people who had distinguished him, and by a determination to do his duty to them at all hazards. This is not the place, nor have I the material for such a display of Governor Vance's course of action as would do him deserved justice; but this I may say, that his private correspondence, if ever it shall be published, will endear him still more to the State which he loved, and to the best of his ability served.

His employment of a blockade-runner to bring in clothing for the North-Carolina troops was a noble idea, and proved a brilliant success.[1] If he had done nothing else in his official career to prove himself worthy to be our Governor, this alone would be sufficient. It matters but little as to the amount, great or small, of Confederate money spent in this service. It is all gone now; but the substantial and incalculable good that resulted at the time from this expenditure, can neither be disputed nor forgotten. For two years his swift-sailing vessels, especially the A.D. Vance, escaped the blockaders, and steamed regularly in and out of the port of Wilmington, followed by the prayers and anxieties of our whole people. "The Advance is in!" was a signal for congratulations in every town in the State; for we knew that another precious cargo was safe, of shoes, and blankets, and cloth, and medicines, and cards. And so it was that when other brave men went barefoot and ill-clad through the winter storms of Virginia, our own North Carolina boys were well supplied, and their wives and little ones at home were clothed, thanks to our Governor and to our God.

I have seen tears of thankfulness running down the cheeks of our soldiers' wives on receiving a pair of these cards, by which alone they were to clothe and procure bread for themselves and their children. And they never failed to express their sense of what they owed to their Governor. "God bless him!" they would cry, "for thinking of it. And God will bless him."

One striking evidence of the fullness and efficiency of these supplies I can not refrain from giving, as it occurred at the close of the war, when our resources, it might be supposed, were utterly exhausted. It will also serve to show what manner of man Governor Vance was, in more ways than one.

In February, 1865, the attention of our people was called to the condition of the Federal prisoners at Salisbury. The officer in charge of them may or may not have been as he is represented. Time will bring the truth to light. But it was alleged against him, that he would not only do nothing himself for the unhappy prisoners under his care, but would allow no private interference for their comfort. The usual answer of all such men, when appealed to on the score of common humanity, was, "What business have these Yankees here?" This was deemed triumphant and unanswerable. That their food should be scanty and of poor quality was unavoidable when our own citizens were in want and our soldiers were on half-rations; but sufficient clothing, kind attendance, and common decencies and comforts were, or might have been, extended to all within the bounds of our State. How far the Federal Government was itself responsible and criminal in this matter, by its refusal to exchange prisoners, future investigations will decide. The following extract of a letter from a prominent member of our last Legislature to a distinguished citizen, shows what the State of North-Carolina could and would have done for their relief:

"I called at Governor Vance's office, in the capitol, and found him sitting alone; and though his desk was covered with papers and documents, these did not seem to engage his attention. He rather seemed to be in profound thought. He expressed himself pleased to see me, and proceeded to say that he had just seen a Confederate surgeon from Salisbury—mentioning his name—and was shocked at what he had heard of the condition of the Federal prisoners there. He went on to detail what he had heard, and testified deep feeling during the recital. He concluded by saying that he wished to see the State take some action on the subject. I assured him immediately how entirely I sympathized with him, and asked what relief it was in our power to bestow. He replied that the State had a full supply of clothing, made of English cloth, for our own troops, and that she had also a considerable quantity made of our own factory cloth. And further, that the State had also a very large supply of under-clothing, blankets, etc.; a supply of all which things might be dispensed to the prisoners, without trenching upon the comfort of our own troops. I told him that a resolution, vesting him with proper authority to act in the matter, could, I thought, be passed through the Legislature. That I thought it very desirable that such a resolution should be passed unanimously; and with a view to obviate objections from extreme men, it was better so to shape the resolution as to make it the means of obtaining reciprocal relief for our own prisoners at the North. This was done. The resolution requesting Governor Vance to effect an arrangement by which, in consideration of blankets, clothing, etc., to be distributed by the Federal Government to prisonners of war from North-Carolina, blankets, clothing, etc., in like quantity, should be distributed by the State of North-Carolina to the Federal prisoners at Salisbury, passed both houses, I think, without one dissentient voice, within the next day."

The letter-books of Governor Vance, it will be remembered, passed into the hands of the military authorities in May, 1865; and, under the order of General Schofield, were transmitted to the State Department at Washington. Whether they have been or are to be returned to the Executive Department of this State, to whom they properly belong, remains to be seen. A correspondent of the New-York press, who was allowed to examine them, remarks that "among much evil they exhibited redeeming traits of character!" that "the letters of Governor Vance to Mr. Secretary Seddon, of the War Department of Richmond, and to General Bradley Johnson, who had control of the prisoners at Salisbury, urged upon both these functionaries the immediate relief of the suffering prisoners, as alike dictated by humanity and policy." This correspondence, when it shall come to light, will show that the action of the executive was as prompt and decided as that of the legislative department of the State. Whatever may be said of the treatment of prisoners at Andersonville and elsewhere, it is certain that no efforts were spared on the part of the public authorities of North-Carolina, nor, we may add, of the community around Salisbury, to mitigate, as far as was possible, the inevitable horrors of war; and that our Governor, especially, exerted all the power and influence at his command to render immediate and effectual relief.

Governor Vance received no reply to his application to the Federal authorities. From General Bradley Johnson, at Salisbury, he received in reply a list of clothing and provisions then being received from the North for the prisoners; and a statement that they needed nothing but some tents, which Governor Vance was unable to send them.

The investigations of the Gee trial, held at Raleigh since the above was written, have served to substantiate all that I have said. What we could do, we were willing to do for our unhappy prisoners. But our own people, our own soldiers, were on the verge of starvation. Every effort was made by our authorities to induce the Northern Government to exchange, without effect. Their men died by thousands in our semi-tropical climate, because we were powerless to relieve them with either food or medicine. No one can read the testimony given at the Gee trial without a deep impression of the awful state of destitution among us. The country around Salisbury was stripped bare of provisions, and the railroads were utterly unfit for service. One of the witnesses stated that they had to take up the turn-outs to mend the road with. "Writing now, at a distance of nearly two years, I can not recall the dark and hopeless days of that winter without a shudder. We knew the condition of those prisoners while we were mourning over the destitution of our own army. The coarse bread served at our own meagre repasts was made bitter by our reflections. A lady, writing from Salisbury, said: I am much more concerned at the condition of these prisoners than at the advance of Sherman's army."

That North-Carolina had at least clothing to offer them was more than could be said for any other Southern State in that respect. She was probably worse off for provision than those south of her. She gave what she had. She did what she could.