I have been fascinated with the reading of Byron’s “Prisoner of Chillon” and with Dumas’ picture of the “Man With the Iron Mask,” of the mysteries and miseries of the Bastile, and the wretched prisoners who were immured within its dismal walls. I have felt my blood tingle when I read of men who had not been convicted of any crime, and, in some instances, who had committed no crime, yet had been confined for years—often uncared for and forgotten, under the infamous system of the lettre de cachet. I regarded them mostly as sensational stories—as fiction—but here the picture is faithfully copied—the lettre de cachet, the prison, the murder—all here in the stern reality.
Many persons confined here were arrested, robbed of everything they possessed, and kept merely on suspicion for weeks, and even months, without examination or trial, and sometimes, after an examination and no proof of charges, being still detained.
The occupants of the rooms on the same floor with Room 16 (Rooms 14, 15 and 18), are mostly farmers from Virginia, living either within the Union lines or on disputed territory. Because of their refusal to take the oath of allegiance, they are arrested and brought to the Old Capitol. They were robbed of their personal property, their negroes run off, and in many instances their houses and farm buildings destroyed.
Among the prisoners with me in Room 16 is an old gentleman named Henry Love. He and his son Llewellyn are both prisoners. The old gentleman seems completely broken down. In telling me the story of his treatment, he said:
“I kept a hotel, and also farmed, near Dumfries, Virginia. I had a farm of 200 acres, all under cultivation, except about 25 acres in wood. My house was taken by Federal troops and used as a hospital, leaving me only three rooms for myself and family. They killed seventeen head of cattle, some of the finest cows you ever saw; my stock was all choice breeds. One cow, with her second calf, was killed, her hindquarters cut off, and the balance, with the calf, left to rot. They killed forty hogs, took two of my best horses, Black Hawks, killed all my poultry; took two stacks of hay, two entire crops of corn, wheat and oats, and two hundred and seventy pounds of bacon. They destroyed all my shrubbery and fences. My place is now as bare as the palm of your hand.”
He was afterward taken prisoner, then released on parole, but is now again under arrest. He was called before Parker, who told him there were no charges against him, but as he was a Secessionist he would have to keep him for a while.
Another is James Johnson, of Clarke County, Virginia, who was taken from his home by a raiding party. He was robbed of everything, his horse stolen, and he has been kept a prisoner for two months. He is sick all the time; appears to be in an advanced stage of consumption.
Mr. Redmond Brawner, who lived at Manassas, lost everything, and he, with his family, were compelled to become refugees. He was arrested, and is now a prisoner here.
Mr. James F. Kerfoot, of Millwood, Clarke County, Virginia, when arrested was buying cattle for the Confederate Government. He had in his possession $18,000 belonging to the Government and $400 of his own money. He was stripped of everything.
Another of my room-mates is Mr. George S. Ayre, of Loudoun County, Virginia. At the outbreak of the war he was a wealthy farmer and cattle dealer. He owned one of the finest improved farms in the county and slaves enough to cultivate it. The army under General Geary camped in the neighborhood of his farm, and one day loaded up twenty-six four-horse wagons with corn and provender, and in return the quartermaster gave receipts. Since then he has suffered at the hands of raiding parties, and now is arrested and imprisoned here.