"'Just then I discovered Lieut. Ferguson was receiving a good deal of attention—a crowd having gathered about him—and the next moment saw his fine new hat had been appropriated by one of the rebel soldiers, and he stood hatless. Seeing one of the rebel officers with a Masonic badge on his coat, Lieut. F. made himself known as a brother Mason, and appealed to him for redress. The officer quickly responded and caused the hat to be returned to its owner, only to be again stolen, and the thief made to give it up as before.
"'In a little while we (seven officers and eighty-five enlisted men) were formed in four ranks, and surrounded by a guard, continued the march 'on to Richmond,' but under very different circumstances from what we had flattered ourselves would be the case, when only two or three hours before our brigade-commander had remarked, as he rode by the regiment, that we would certainly be in Richmond that night. We met a great many civilians, old and young, on their way to the front, as a general alarm had been sounded in the city, and all who could carry arms had been ordered to report for duty in the intrenchments. After a few miles march we halted for a rest, but were not allowed to sit down, as I presume the guards thought we could as well stand as they. Here a squad of the Richmond Grays, the elite of the city, came up and accosted us with all manner of vile epithets. One of the most drunken and boisterous approached within five or six feet of me, and with the muzzle of his rifle within two feet of my face swore he would shoot me. Fearless of consequences, and feeling that immediate death even could not be worse than slow torture by starvation, to which I knew that so many of our soldiers had been subjected, and remembering that the Confederate Congress had declared officers of colored troops outlaws, I replied, as my eyes met his, 'shoot if you dare.' Instead of carrying out his threat he withdrew his aim and staggered on. Here Lieut. Ferguson lost his hat, which had been already twice stolen and recovered. One of the rebs came up behind him and taking the hat from his head replaced it with his own and ran off. The lieutenant consoled himself with the reflection that at last he had a hat no one would steal.
"'At about 7 p. m. we arrived at Libby Prison and were separated from the enlisted men, who, we afterward learned, suffered untold hardships, to which many of them succumbed. Some were claimed as slaves by men who had never known them; others denied fuel and shelter through the winter, and sometimes water with which to quench their thirst; the sick and dying neglected or mal-treated and even murdered by incompetent and fiendish surgeons; without rations for days together; shot at without the slightest reason or only to gratify the caprice of the guards,—all of which harrowing details were fully corroborated by the few emaciated wrecks that survived.
"'We were marched inside the prison, searched, and what money we had taken from us. I was allowed to retain pocket-book, knife and watch. Our names were recorded and we were told to follow the sergeant. Now, I thought, the question will be decided whether we are to go up stairs where we knew the officers were quartered, or be confined in the cells below. As we neared the corner of the large room and I saw the sergeant directing his steps to the stairs leading down, I thought it had been better had we fallen on the battle-field. He led the way down to a cell, and as we passed in barred and locked the door and left us in darkness. Here, without rations, the bare stone floor for a bed, the dampness trickling down the walls on either side, seven of us were confined in a close room about seven feet by nine. It was a long night, but finally morning dawned and as a ray of light shone through the little barred window above our heads we thanked God we were not in total darkness. About 9 a. m. rations, consisting of bread and meat, were handed in, and being divided into seven parts, were drawn for by lot. About noon we were taken from the cell and put in with the other officers. Here we met Capt. Cook, of the Ninth Regiment, who had been captured about a month previous while reconnoitering the enemy's line.
"'We were now in a large room, perhaps forty by ninety feet, with large windows, entirely destitute of glass. No blankets nor anything to sit or lie upon except the floor, and at night when we lay down the floor was literally covered.
"'About the middle of the second night we were all hurriedly marched out and packed in filthy box-cars—like sardines, for there was not room for all to sit down—for an unknown destination. After a slow and tedious ride we arrived at Salisbury, N. C. When we arrived there were but few prisoners, and for two or three days we received fair rations of bread, bean soup and a little meat. This did not last long, for as the number of prisoners increased our rations were diminished. There were four old log houses within the stockade and into these the officers were moved the next day, while a thousand or more prisoners, brought on from Petersburg, were turned into the pen without shelter of any kind. From these we were separated by a line of sentinels, who had orders to shoot any who approached within six paces of their beat on either side. This was called the 'dead-line,' which also extended around the enclosure about six paces from the stockade.
"'The second Sunday after our arrival, just as we were assembling to hear preaching, an officer who had thoughtlessly stepped to a tree on the dead-line was shot and killed by the sentry, who was on an elevated platform outside the fence, and only about two rods distant. For this fiendish act the murderer was granted a sixty days furlough.
"'Prisoners were being brought in almost daily, and at this time there were probably six thousand within the enclosure. A pretence of shelter was furnished by the issue of a few Sibley tents, but not more than a third of the prisoners were sheltered. Many of them built mud hovels or burrowed in the ground; some crawled under the hospital building. Very few had blankets and all were thinly clad, and the rations were barely sufficient to sustain life. What wonder that men lost their strength, spirits, and sometimes reason. The story of exposure, sickness and death is the same and rivals that of Andersonville.
"'The guard was strengthened, a portion of the fence taken down and a piece of artillery stationed at the corners to sweep down the crowd, should an outbreak occur. This we had thought of for some time, and a plan of action was decided upon. At a given signal all within the enclosure were to make a break for that part of the fence nearest them, and then scatter, each one for himself. Of course, some would probably be killed, but it was hoped most would escape before the guards could load and fire a second time. This plot, which was to have been carried out at midnight, was discovered the previous afternoon. The inside guard, separating the enlisted-men from the officers, had become more vigilant, and the only means of communication was to attach a note to a stone and throw it across. This an officer attempted. The note fell short; the sentry picked it up, called the corporal of the guard, who took it to the officer of the guard, and in less than five minutes the whole arrangement was known. Two hours afterward we were formed in line and learned that we were to change our quarters. We had then been in Salisbury twenty days. Before we left one of our mess found and brought away a bound copy of Harper's Magazine. It proved a boon to us, as it served for a pillow for one of us at night, and was being read by some one from dawn until night, until we had all read it through, when we traded it off for a volume of the Portland Transcript.
"'We were packed in box cars and started North. The next morning we arrived at Danville and were confined in a tobacco warehouse, built of brick and about eighty feet long, forty wide, and three stories high. When we first entered the prison the ration was fair in quantity. We had from twelve to sixteen ounces of corn-bread, and from two to four ounces of beef or a cup of pea-soup, but never beef and soup the same day. True, the soup would have an abundance of worms floating about in it, but these we would skim off, and trying to forget we had seen them, eat with a relish. Hunger will drive one to eat almost anything, as we learned from bitter experience. About the 1st of November the soup and beef ration began to decrease, and from the middle of the month to the 20th of February, when I was paroled, not a ration of meat or soup was issued. Nothing but corn-bread, made from unbolted meal, and water, and that growing less and less. Sometimes I would divide my ration into three parts and resolve to make it last all day, but invariably it would be gone before noon. Generally I would eat the whole ration at once, but that did not satisfy my hunger, and I had to go without a crumb for the next twenty-four hours. To illustrate how inadequate the ration was, I can say that I have seen officers picking potato-peelings from the large spittoons, where they were soaking in tobacco spittle, wash them off and eat them.