Among one of these details one morning was a gentleman by the name of Simpson, from Houston, Texas, who belonged to Hood’s Brigade. This man was born and raised in New York State and had lived in Houston only a couple of years, engaging in business and had become thoroughly acquainted with the character of our people, and especially the institution of slavery. In this short time he became one of the South’s strongest friends, ready to give his life for her cause, as demonstrated by his joining the first troops Texas sent to Virginia.
Slipping away from the guards, he made his way to his old home, told his people who had heard that he was in the Rebel Army that he had recanted and taken the oath of allegiance to the United States Government, thereby reinstating him with his family, who lavished money and all else on him until he was fully recuperated from the effects of his prison experience, when he again shipped on board a steamer for Nassau, where he took a Confederate blockade runner and came South, to fight it out to the end. After the war he entered into copartnership with a man by the name of Wiggins, constituting the firm of Wiggins & Simpson, which built a large foundry and machine shop. This they conducted for many years, and, at the time of his death, Simpson was wealthy and one of the most honored and esteemed citizens of Houston, never having expressed a word of regret over his conduct during the war.
It might not be out of place here to say that nearly all Northern-raised men among us within my knowledge pursued the same course. They invariably proved gallant soldiers and did their duty for the South to the limit of their ability, returning South after the war and spending the balance of their lives as our most honored citizens. We had twenty-six generals of Northern birth in the Confederate Army, twelve of whom were graduates of West Point, and were offered high rank in the Federal Army. This, no doubt, proved a hard problem for the North to understand, and only emphasizes the justice of our cause, because these men were prompted only by a conscientious motive, and faced suffering, death and disgrace in the eyes of their Northern friends by such a course.
While on this subject I would mention the case of General Pemberton, the gallant soldier who commanded at Vicksburg, and directed its defense to the last ditch. He was the son of wealthy parents in Philadelphia, who threatened to disinherit him if he didn’t resign his commission in the Southern Army and come North, but he ignored their threat and continued in the Southern Army to the end.
Our suffering at Fort Delaware was almost unbearable. We were crowded into these barracks as thick as we could lie, with all character of sickness and disease among us, receiving additional prisoners occasionally to keep the barracks filled, with only two meals a day of three small crackers and an inch of meat. Many prisoners got desperate and attempted to swim the Delaware River to effect their escape, only to have their dead bodies found washed ashore on the Delaware or Jersey side of the river the next day.
A number of our men were shot without cause by the guard, who, we understood, were promoted for such act; still a few of the men made their escape by swimming the river, among whom I might mention Jim Loggins, a boy about eighteen years old, who belonged to Hood’s Brigade. He is now a practicing physician of Ennis, Texas, a father of a large family of children, all highly regarded and respected citizens of their home town.
Prisoners seeking their escape would take canteens, tightly corked, and use them as life preservers. Referring back to the case of Jim Loggins: When he got into the river with others, the tide was running in fast, and the tide took him about five or six miles up the river before he reached a landing on the Delaware side. He then, with one companion, made his way through the State of Delaware into Maryland, crossing the Potomac, then through Northern Virginia, occupied by the Federal Army, back to Richmond, where he rejoined Hood’s Brigade, and was in every important battle until the end of the war, surrendering at Appomattox.
Among our prisoners at Fort Delaware were the First Maryland Cavalry, captured at South Mountain, before the battle of Gettysburg. These Maryland men were the sons of leading families, largely men of great wealth in the State of Maryland. Their friends and families at home petitioned Governor Swann, of Maryland, to intercede for them with the Federal War Department, and permit them to take a parole to go home, and stay at their homes, until regularly exchanged, and it was generally believed success would crown their efforts. These men received clothing and money in the greatest abundance from their families at home, and were about the most genteel looking men we had in prison. In connection with this, I would mention the escape of one of their parties, who, being well dressed and clean shaven, wearing a white shirt and fresh collar, was watching the “Osceola” at the landing about ready to depart, and boldly slipped up on the levee, walked down to the guard, passing him while the guard saluted, mistaking him for a citizen visitor from Delaware City, who came over quite often, then passed on to the boat, walked up on its cabin deck, took a seat in front, with his feet cocked up on the guards, smoking a cigar, when the boat pushed off with him and he was never heard of by us any more, no doubt making good his escape.
Many incidents of interest I might mention, showing the loyalty of the Southern soldier under this most terrible condition, facing death daily, seeing his comrades carried out by the dozen for burial daily, with no prospect for exchange. Certainly history does not record such remarkable devotion to a country and cause.
In line with this, I might mention the effort of General Schoepf, commander of the fort and prison. He one day conceived the idea of creating a stampede among us, for which purpose he ordered out about three hundred East Tennesseeans, formed them in line and made a strong speech to them, telling them of the North’s vast resources for the conduct of the war, and our diminishing, limited means for holding on; showing them the impossibility for our ever succeeding, with no prospect of exchange. Then he told them of the great prosperity of the North, where labor was in demand and wages high, of which they could take the benefit by taking the oath of allegiance and thus save their lives, recover their health and strength, live in peace and happiness the balance of the war, and, finally, he called on them, saying, “Now, all of you that are ready and willing to take the oath of allegiance, step three paces to the front.” Only one man responded.