Belle Boyd, In Camp and Prison, Volume II - Chapters XIV-XVIII



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CHAPTER XIV.
The "Pens" - Officers' Barracks - Privates' Barracks - The "Galvanized" 
Barracks - Galvanization and its results - General T.'s experiment - The 
Barracks by Night - A Reckless Sentry - The wrong Man shot.

   THE places where the prisoners are held here are called "pens;" and 
they are correctly designated, for they are nothing more. Any one who may 
at any period of his life have attended a "cattle-show" can readily 
portray to himself the places we inhabit. These habitations, boarded 

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and roughly put together, remind one very forcibly of old-fashioned farm-
house barns, where, in the old times, your poor horse shivered the night 
through, standing uneasily in his stall, whilst his master slept 
comfortably within the chimney-corner. Officially and by courtesy they 
were denominated "barracks," of which there are three distinct kinds upon 
this island; viz., the Officers' Barracks, the Privates' Barracks, and 
last, but not least, the Allegiance Barracks; or, as they are commonly 
termed, the "Whitewashed," or "Galvanized Barracks."

   In, the Officers' Barracks are held some fifteen or eighteen hundred 
officers and political prisoners - about 150 in all of the latter.

   In the Privates' Barracks, which occupy a little more space, and whose 
divisions are somewhat larger than those of the 

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former, are crowded together, in their misery, some nine or ten thousand 
soldiers, from almost every regiment and command in the Southern 
Confederacy. Many of these poor fellows are but half-clad, and suffer 
terribly from the cold, inclement winter of the North. Many of them, by 
far the largest portion, are without friends in the North to whom they 
could apply, and are therefore indebted to the Yankees for the very little 
clothing that is at times given to them, but which is never given unless 
every vestige of the original garment has entirely disappeared, and common 
decency demands it. Many of them are young, scions of some of the noblest 
and proudest families in the South; men who before this war knew naught of 
want and trouble; men who had from infancy been reared in the lap of 
luxury, and are now 

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enduring everything - insult, imprisonment, and starvation - willingly, 
and without murmuring; patriots, whose names will yet live to be handed 
down to posterity as noblest among the noble.

   And, lastly, the Galvanized Barracks. These are domiciled by Southern 
soldiers who have taken the oath of allegiance to the United States upon 
being imprisoned here. These "patriots" remain in this delectable spot for 
one year, and are made to work for the State, to prove their devotion to 
Mr. Lincoln's Government, by hauling wood and doing the disagreeable 
duties of the prison. These fellows are allowed to draw rations daily, and 
to live the same as the garrison in every respect as regards their food. 
Moreover, they are permitted to receive boxes containing clothing and 
luxuries, 

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which those who choose to remain constant; to their principles cannot, 
unless they possess the influence of outside friends.

   As regards their love for the "old flag" and devotion to the Union, I 
can hardly deem myself competent to pronounce judgment correctly. But an 
excellent story is told of these individuals, which is not unworthy of 
attention, as it may in a measure serve to show how far these patriots 
should be trusted.

   General S-- and his staff once paid them a visit. Upon entering their 
abode, the General stated to them that there was to be an exchange of 
prisoners, and that all those who still desired to go back to the South 
might do so.

   "Now," he added, "all those who feel inclined to do so, step over on 
the left of the division."

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   Every one them went over; not a man remaining of the many who had grown 
to love the Federal Government as at present conducted.

   It is said General S-- laughed, and remarked, "Well, that will do; I 
only wanted to find out whom I could trust - to ascertain if any of you 
were really sincere."

   These barracks or pens are divided into divisions, each division having 
a stove, for the purpose of heating, in a manner, quarters that would 
otherwise be untenable. They range in length from eighty to one hundred 
feet, and in breadth measure about thirty feet. They are separated from 
one another by thin partitions of boarding, so that really they are quite 
connected, as conversations carried on in one can be distinctly heard in 
the other. On each 

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side of these places, wide structures of wood are built, two stories in 
height, which are reached by means of wooden chats nailed to the supports. 
Upon these elevated platforms each prisoner is apportioned off so much 
space for his sleeping and cooking purposes.

   At night calcium lights, placed at one end of the barracks, throw their 
broad glare upon the square of something less than an acre of mud and 
boards. Delectable spot in rainy weather, with its ditches filled with 
muddy yellow water! Splendid place in the summer for disease; and many a 
poor fellow has looked his last upon this earth, dying here, far away from 
his home, struck down by the small-pox or some virulent, fearful malady.

   Escapes during the sunnier months are not unfrequent; but in winter all 
such 

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attempts are put an end to from the inclemency of the weather, the 
floating ice in the river, and the utter impossibility of any one, however 
bold and daring a swimmer he might be, living any length of time in the 
water.

   The regulations for the prevention of escape, &c., are rigorous enough, 
but they are still more rigorously carried out.

   One of the prisoners in the Privates' Barracks, rising one morning, 
carelessly, and without thinking of the consequences that might ensue, 
threw some dirty water out of the pigeon-hole which answered the purpose 
of a window, and served to lighten up in a manner the gloom within.

   The water, splashing on the ground, attracted the attention of a 
sentinel who was standing guard about twenty paces distant; and, without 
warning, he brought 

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his musket to a "ready," and fired haphazard in the direction from whence 
the water was thrown, hitting, not the aggressor, but an innocent youth 
who had just awakened, and was gazing out upon the dreary scene that 
presented itself before him, perfectly unconscious of his danger, or how 
near unto death's door he was passing.



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CHAPTER XV.
A piteous Spectacle - The Old Men's Petition - Piety of the Southern 
Soldiery - A Young Men's Christian Association - A Prison Service - Our 
Guardians - Colonel Wood - Mr. Wilson - Tom S. the Toady - How Tom got his 
Situation - The Ladies' Attendants - Aunt Lizzie - Mr. L. - The Spy 
Discomfited - Our Cuisine - Scrap Pudding - How the Prison Officers made 
their Profit.

   ABOUT the middle of January I saw one of the most piteous spectacles, I 
think, that I ever had the misfortune to witness. Four men, old and 
decrepit, one of them tottering on the entrance to the valley of shadows, 

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men whose gray beards and venerable aspects ought to have commanded at 
least sympathy from the presiding powers at Washington, were brought in as 
prisoners. They were to be held here until exchanged - men who could not 
possibly be of any benefit whatever to either side, North or South. These 
men were arrested on the 3rd of August last by a captain in the United 
States navy, who was on shore, in command of a raiding-party, and who 
brought them back prisoners on board his vessel. They were confined in the 
hold for five months, and then transferred to the supply steamer 
Massachusetts, and sent to Philadelphia, and from thence, upon her 
arrival, were forwarded to Fort Delaware. Truly if this was the sole 
result of the brave captain's raid, he had nothing to feel proud of.

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   Upon their arrival here they excited the "commiseration" even of 
Adjutant Ahl, who informed them, if they would take the oath and draw up a 
petition to the Secretary of War, that he himself would forward it for 
them to the proper authorities. Below I subjoin the letter that they had 
written, by friends who volunteered their services in the barracks, and to 
which they respectively signed their names. One of them recounted to me 
his misfortunes and those of his comrades, and I confess that, as I sat 
listening to his recital, I felt moved. "We have been treated very badly, 
very badly," he said, in conclusion - "confined in the hold of the vessel 
for most of the time; and we are all of us very old men, sir, and we never 
did them any harm."

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"Jan. 16th, 1865.

"Capt. Geo. H. Ahl, A.A.A. Genl. 

"SIR, 
   "In accordance with your request, we enclose you the written petition 
to the Secretary of War, and we solicit your kindness to have it forwarded 
at your earliest convenience. You have seen our condition and can 
appreciate the truthfulness of our statements. If, therefore, you find it 
consistent with your views of duty and humanity to add thereto the 
recommendation of the Commanding General of this post, or such other good 
word in our behalf as you may deem best, you will add greatly to the 
obligations we are already under for your considerate attention.

"THE PETITIONERS" 

PETITION.
"Jan. 16th, 1865 

"Hon. E M. Stanton, Secretary of War. 

"Sir, 
   "The Petition of the undersigned humbly sheweth, that they are citizens 
of the State of Georgia, and residents of McIntosh County, whence we were 
seized and taken on the 3rd of August last, by a raiding party under the 
command of Captain Colverconerris, of the United States Navy, and, after 
five months of close and severe confinement on board vessel, have been 

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transferred to the military prison at Fort Delaware, where we are at the 
present writing of this. We were, at the time of our capture, peaceable 
citizens, engaged in the pursuit of our several civil occupations, non-
combatants, having never been engaged in any military service or duty to 
the Confederate authorities, and are, from our advanced age and physical 
disabilities, wholly incapable of such service as the field, neither of us 
being less than fifty, some of us over sixty years of age, and one of us 
being deprived of a leg, which was lost by accident many years ago. Being 
thus incapable of contributing anything towards the continuance of this 
war, or the result of this unfortunate struggle between the sections of 
our once common country, and having, in the course of nature, but few 
remaining days to look for on this earth, we indulge the hope, and appeal 
to the humanity of the enlightened Government in whose hands we are 
placed, that those days shall not be shortened by the terrific rigours of 
an imprisonment which cannot otherwise be endured. To this appeal of our 
extreme age and helplessness, and our entirely civil and non-combative 
character, we have to add that our homes are now within your military 
lines as recently established by the forces under the command of Major-
General Sherman. Under this state of affairs, we humbly beg to be, as soon 
as practicable, released from confinement and returned to our homes, where 
we engage to remain 

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as heretofore, and, as our physical condition compels, quiet and peaceable 
citizens. To this end we are willing and ready to subscribe to the usual 
oath of allegiance to the United States Government. Trusting that the 
petition and appeal may receive a speedy and favourable response, we 
shall, as in duty bound,"

"Ever remain, your obedient Servants," 
"WM JAMES CANNON, 
"CHARLES LINGOAUT, 
"WM. RILY TOWNSEND, 
"WM. SOMERLIN." 

   Yankees generally are very susceptible to flattery, at least those in 
authority at Washington; and let us hope that the few masterly touches of 
the ingenious, if not diplomatic author, will not fail to have its desired 
effect upon hearts that are proverbial for their adamantine qualities. 
Since my sojourn here I have had ample opportunities of observing the 
spirit of piety and godliness amongst the Southern soldiery. A Young Men's 
Christian Association 

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was organized some time ago, and prayer meetings are held nightly in some 
one of the divisions, whilst prayers and readings from the Bible take 
place in each division every evening about half an hour before the lights 
are put out, either conducted by some chaplain or Confederate officer.

   In their plods regard for the Sabbath day and God's command to keep it 
holy, I know of no nation which approaches nearer to the marked devotion 
of the English people than the Southerners. The Sabbath day is always 
passed in a quiet and orderly manner, service being held in different 
parts of the barracks. It was my very good fortune to attend the meeting 
held by the Rev. Mr. Kinsolving, in Division 23. His service was attended 
by all grades of rank and he certainly spoke and read with 

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- what is very rare with the public speakers of the present day - much 
feeling and pathos, so different from the rant and fume of a certain 
sensational preacher of the word of God that I once had the misfortune to 
hear in the "City of Churches."(*)

   You will like to hear something of our gaolers. Here they are. Colonel 
Wood, our superintendent, could be a gentleman if he wished. With a mind 
cultured and at once deep and penetrating, he appears to have brutalized 
himself by contact with those with whom he has associated. I have watched 
the man closely in both phases - in one, running about the ground like an 
enraged tiger, whilst his subordinates clear to the right and left, 
fearful of their tyrannical master. Finally venting his spleen 

(* Brooklyn, Long Island, State of New York.)

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upon some unfortunate one, he subsides into quiet, and his official 
dignity now feels half-ashamed of the disturbance he has succeeded in 
creating about him!

   I have heard him use language that modest ears would hardly dare to 
listen to - not merely commonplace oaths, but curses both loud and deep, 
and horrible to hear. A fit disciple of Tom Payne and Voltaire! for W. is 
an Atheist.

   Atheism is his hobby. His arguments are good in the defence of his 
"creed;" but, reasoner, and a deep one, though he is, I do not believe 
that he has faith in it. Conversing on this subject one day he said, 
"There is my Bible," laying his hand on a volume of Voltaire!

   "And, Colonel Wood," I replied, "like Voltaire, on your death-bed you 
will cry out in your agony, upon God to save you!"

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   He pondered for a moment, then said, "Well, I might. Your Bible says, 
that those who believe in Christ, even in the eleventh hour, shall be 
saved."

   Again, the Colonel can be as suave and polite, as affable and 
courteous, as any who have moved in the best society - as gentle and as 
tender. It is only, Madame Rumour whispers, that he is cruel when under 
the influence of morphia or opium. In his movements he is quick and 
energetic - a man of medium stature. His is a peculiar eye - keen and 
gray; at times cold and perfectly expressionless, at others full of 
shrewdness and keenness. Dressed in black coat and gray trousers and vest, 
his large head covered with a broad-brimmed black slouched hat, you have 
W. P. Wood, the Vidocq, or, better still, perhaps the Jonathan Wild, of 
America.

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   Mr. Wilson, the Colonel's right-hand man, the under-superintendent, 
from what little I saw of him, appeared to be a gentleman, straightforward 
in his dealings, and a man of very few words. He dresses plainly, and 
wears a slouched felt hat. Every one wears felt hats now. "It is only 
foreigners and Southerners who carry canes and wear tall hats," said a 
friend of mine to me one day when in conversation with him.

   Next to the Colonel, W. is the busiest man in the prison. He it is who 
has charge of the prisoners, and who rules supreme in the Colonel's 
absence. Every morning at eight o'clock he comes round and calls the 
muster-roll of the prisoners in their rooms, and hands them their letters, 
which, however, are invariably opened and read before they leave the 
office below.

   Colonel Colby, the military commandant, 

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who has charge of this post, I saw but little of; but we all liked him, 
for he was ever courteous and polite, and had always a good word for us.

   Fortunately for myself, I was not under the tender guardianship of the 
"officers of the Keyes," so of them I can say but little, save that they 
attended to their business with punctilious strictness.

   Another individual in this modern Bastille is a decided toady to 
Colonel Wood. He rejoices in the name of Tom Stackpole, and has charge of 
the beds and bedding, and he attempts to imitate him in his every action. 
In his accomplishment of swearing he is even a greater proficient than the 
Colonel. In his walk he outdoes him. If there is a man that he hates and 
fears more than all others, it is certainly Colonel Wood. Indeed, I think, 
like 

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Jonathan Wild. the Colonel can trust his menials because he knows a 
portion of their life which it would not do to publish to the world.

   During the late election in the United States, Tom made himself 
conspicuous by pulling down from the pole upon which it was hoisted the 
American flag, and tearing it because it bore upon its folds the names of 
McClellan and Pendleton. For this hardy act he was promoted to the 
position that he now occupies.

   The female servants of the prison, with the exception of "Aunt Lizzie," 
were the worst and most degraded beings I ever had the misfortune of 
seeing. The Five Points of New York, or the lowest dens of infamy, could 
not produce a worse crowd. Yet this scum were hired to wait upon the 
ladies who were here held - for 

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Heaven knows what; but prisoners nevertheless.

   But "Aunt Lizzie," as she was called by every one here, stood on her 
dignity. No one insulted her; always laughing and good natured, Aunt 
Lizzie prided herself upon belonging formerly to the Snowdon family. "My 
name, sah, am Aunt Lizzie Snowdon, sah, and I'm berry proud of it, sah." 
Straightforward and ever scrupulous, in her Colonel Wood had one faithful 
attendant. She was not to be bribed nor cajoled. None could see her 
smiling face and feel gloomy: a good word she had for everybody. She it 
was who mended our linen and washed our clothes. Aunt Lizzie was certainly 
a good feature in this prison, and many besides myself will, I am sure, 
remember her with feelings of gratitude.

   Mr. L-- is another gentleman who 

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rejoices in belonging to the corps that is commanded by Colonel Wood. He 
is the "Jerry Sneak " of this institution. His nose is everywhere, and his 
eyes are upon everything. If a visitor comes to see a friend confined 
here, Mr. L-- stands near at hand, noting down in his memory the 
conversation, whilst apparently engaged in trimming his nails, or fixing 
his eyes on dreamland, as he notes down their words. If in the court when 
the prisoners are walking about, he is always looking on and smiling, or 
has some soft word of "endearment" to say to new-comers, to bring against 
them when their time comes. I was particularly the object of his hatred, 
and our hate was mutual.

   I had very grievously offended him. One day a gentleman called to see 
me. Upon entering I seated myself close to the 

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gentleman. Mr. L-- took a chair, and placing his legs between us, 
stretched himself complacently at full length, and prepared, as was his 
custom, to listen.

   Of course our hopes of a conversation were to all appearances at an 
end. For some moments I stood it calmly, but at last I could stand it no 
longer. "There are," I said very quietly, "in this prison, spies; bearers 
of stories, ever ready for anything mean and contemptible; but the meanest 
and most contemptible of them all is - I beg your pardon, sir," turning 
suddenly to him, "is yourself, Mr L--."

   "I can't help it," said that individual, looking piteously at me. But 
the shot had taken effect, Mr. L -- removed his chair to the fire, and our 
conversation was uninterrupted.

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   Of the cuisine of Fort Delaware there is not much to be said in praise. 
Two meals are served out to us daily, consisting of one piece of 
peculiarly constructed bread, and one ditto of indescribable salt, 
yellowish-coloured pork, or meat that has had its nutriment entirely 
boiled out of it in the making of soup for the garrison, previous to its 
being apportioned out to the prisoners.

   Occasionally a mixture, designated by our persecutors as soup, and 
containing an ample sufficiency of maggots, is doled out to us in tin 
pots. It is an indescribable olla prodrida of soups of every kind, and in 
its appearance reminds one irresistibly of the sty and the trough. Coffee 
and tea are luxuries never seen in the shed where we receive our rations. 
Only those who are fortunate enough to have money 

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are ever enabled to procure these articles from the Butler, who, although 
selling a very good kind, does not forget to charge a very exorbitant 
price for his considerate (!) kindness.

   These meals thus served out to us are called respectively breakfast and 
dinner, misnomers for such luxuries in the outside world, however poor 
they may be. What would our English friends, who are, I believe, by no 
means averse to good cheer, think, if they could try it for a few weeks, 
of the nutritious food, the unparalleled good treatment of the prisoners 
held here, of which the Federals boast so loudly?

   These pleasant meals are served to us at nine in the morning and three 
in the afternoon. The cook-house, as it is named, from whence this food is 
served 

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out to us by its grinning demons, is a large room, in length about one 
hundred feet, by sixty in width, filled partially with long and very 
narrow tables, constructed of pine-boards. Upon two generally, though 
sometimes there were more, are placed at regular intervals our pieces of 
bread (by courtesy) and our ditto of meat. About half-past eight some 
subordinate of the cook-house shouts out the command to "fall in 28!" or 
"31!" and whichever portion of the officers' barracks may be first 
mentioned, the inmates immediately respond by coming forth from their 
separate divisions, and falling in by twos or threes, march up to the 
entrance of the cook-house.

   Here we are generally kept waiting for several minutes until the door 
is thrown open when we enter and file in single 

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column down the table, taking our allotted rations as we pass on, until 
the end of the table is reached, when on again, we face to the right 
about, retracing out steps out of the room, and are once more fain to 
return to our dens or eat in the open air. The latter alternative, 
however, is not very often chosen, as it is winter, and we are but 
scantily clothed.

   Each division, during the cold weather, is provided with a stove for 
the purpose of heating, in a measure, places that would have otherwise 
been untenantable. Over this some one or more of us are generally pretty 
much occupied in cooking sundry nondescript dishes, composed of odds and 
ends, and which I find from experience are not altogether unsavoury after 
once conquering the repugnance felt upon being brought into contact with 
such very 

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unaccustomed food. Coffee-pots, tea-pots, and oftentimes mugs and dippers, 
are piled upon every conceivable spot or space large enough to admit of 
such packing; and in cold weather to approach anywhere near the stove is a 
thing utterly impossible, owing to the numbers surrounding it.

   Political prisoners have the privilege of procuring their meals from 
the kitchen, provided they can make some arrangement with the heads of 
that department, and have the money necessary to back them in such 
arrangements. After I had been imprisoned for two weeks, I managed to have 
"an interview" with the presiding dignitary of this steaming sanctum, 
which resulted favourably; and henceforth, instead of living, as I had for 
the past fourteen days, upon bread and water (for I never ate the pork), I 
dined regularly upon meat, 

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potatoes, and coffee for breakfast, dinner, and supper, having for my 
comrade and messmate Major R--, Quartermaster on General Ramseur's staff.

   Several messes of this description were thus formed, many of them 
having from six to eight members. By feeing the "cookmaster" we managed to 
get several extras occasionally, so that, altogether, we managed to get 
along better than we should have done had we been without money or without 
friends.

   For a consideration, some one of the lower class of men confined here 
enacts the duties of cook, and sets and clears off the dishes (tin-ware) 
from the table (in our case a cheese-box on legs), and announces the meals 
when ready for us. We might have fared better, but Rumour whispers that 
the sutler and presiding officials at 

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the fort are leagued together, and that the order prohibiting luxuries 
being forwarded here by friends was made as much for the benefit of 
themselves as for the irritation that it occasioned to us, as it is 
utterly impossible to procure anything unless through the shark of a 
sutler, who charges exorbitantly for his politeness.



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CHAPTER XVI.
Miss McDonough - A brutal Outrage - Treatment of Mr. W. R. Coyner - The 
"Court-martial" - Sentence "Tossing in a Blanket" -The Torture by Fire - 
Fort Delaware - A Box of Clothing - A Man of Consequence - Adjutant and 
General - The Blankets at last - The "Softest Plank."

   I HAVE already spoken of Poor Miss McDonough. She was taken prisoner 
last summer upon the charge of having murdered a Federal officer. At the 
time of this alleged murder, Miss McDonough was nowhere in the vicinity, 
and it was only in 

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hopes that her brother would be advised of her arrest, and surrender 
himself in her stead, that this shameful seizure was made.

   James McDonough was a Lieutenant in Mosby's command, somewhere in the 
Valley of the Shenandoah, and Captain B. was shot by him (not murdered) 
when, during a skirmish, he refused to surrender himself prisoner. It was 
for this justifiable act of war she was made to suffer. Miss McDonough was 
compelled to remain in a room(*) perfectly stifling with noisome smells. 
Add to this the fact that she was continually fretting for fear her 
brother would deliver himself up for her. Can it then be wondered at that 
she should have died there, far away from her friends and those she loved?

(* The same in which Belle Boyd was held so long.)

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   During my sojourn in the Carroll Prison, I one evening called upon 
Mrs. --, a lady prisoner from Galveston, Texas, who tended Miss McDonough 
with motherly care during her illness. Poor Mollie was then in a state of 
semi-insensibility, and was barely conscious of what was going on about 
her, when Colonel Wood, the superintendent of the prison, burst into the 
room, shouting out at the top of his voice, "Hooray! Jem McDonough's 
caught, and will swing, by --! before the week is out."

   Miss McDonough slowly raised herself in the bed until nearly upright, 
stared wildly about her for an instant, and, uttering a piercing shriek, 
fell insensible upon the floor.

   I sprang forward, but Mrs. -- was beside her before me; and I, turning 
full upon the author of this outrage, remarked 

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excitedly, "By --! Colonel Wood, if I ever catch you in Virginia when I 
get a command, you shall swing for this, sir."

   Another instance of Yankee brutality and vindictiveness was related to 
me by the young gentleman himself, Mr. R. Coyner, a private in the old 7th 
Virginia regiment of cavalry.

   At the time of his capture he was on furlough at Moorfields, Virginia. 
On the 12th of October, 1863, he was taken prisoner by a force of Federal 
infantry, under Captain Jarbon, and conveyed to Petersburg, Western 
Virginia, when he was handed over to Colonel Mulligan, who not only 
paroled him, but treated him with kindness and attention.

   Here he remained until the 24th of October, when he was sent under a 
strong guard to New Creek Station, on the Baltimore 

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and Ohio Railroad, where he arrived late at night on the 25th. Here his 
sufferings began. He was thrown into a large damp cellar, where were 
huddled together about seventy Yankee deserters, murderers, and bounty 
pumpers, where he was kept until the 26th, subsisting upon hard biscuits 
and cold water, which were served to them twice during the day.

   On the 26th he was taken from thence and carried to Baltimore. Upon his 
arrival he was placed in Campell's slave-pen, then under the charge of the 
infamous Colonel Fish, who was afterwards sentenced to the Albany 
Penitentiary for various crimes. Early on the morning of the 27th, Mr. 
Coyner was again ordered out of his place of confinement, and conducted, 
still under guard, to Fort McHenry, which he reached about 11 a.m. of the 
same day, and was 

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immediately placed in what is known as the "Solitary Cell."

   Here the company was as select as that at New Creek Station, comprising 
as it did murderers, and thieves, and other wretches. of the deepest dye. 
In this solitary cell, where he was doomed to pass a weary interval of 
time, no windows admitted the light of day, no lamp was permitted at 
night. The apartment, or rather den, was cold and noisome; its walls thick 
with mildew, the floor covered with filth of every kind, and literally 
swarming with insects; none of the prisoners held here being ever allowed 
to leave the place for any purpose whatever.

   Here young Coyner upon entering found two other Confederate soldiers 
with ball and chain attached to their legs; the 

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cause assigned for this treatment by the Yankee authorities being simply, 
that they were Confederates.

   Young Coyner himself had not remained here more than an hour when the 
sergeant entered, and with the assistance of his men placed a 42 Por. ball 
and chain upon his left ankle, adding that if he attempted to take it off 
he would shoot him. He remained here, and in this condition, for three 
months and a half, and his sufferings, as he related them to me, were 
certainly horrible in the extreme.

   The first night that he passed in this "hell upon earth," as he termed 
it, could never be obliterated from his memory. A mock court-martial was 
held, before which he was arraigned upon the charge of being a rebel and 
guerilla; the remainder of 

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those in the den looking on, laughing spectators of the scene.

   Of course the result of this court-martial may be inferred; he was 
found guilty, and the court pronounced the following sentence upon him; 
viz., "To be tossed in a blanket until lifeless." This was immediately 
carried into effect, the Federal guards looking on, amused spectators of 
the scene, taking no heed of his piteous appeals to them for mercy or 
protection, but on the contrary inciting his persecutors by words and 
gestures to carry the sentence into effect.

   Handed over to them, he was tossed thirteen times, each time falling 
heavily upon his head or sides; when, finally, more dead then alive, he 
was permitted to crawl off amidst the jeers and laughter of his 
tormentors, who were highly elated at the 

Page 250

manner in which they had eventually succeeded in eliciting groans from 
their unfortunate martyr.

   Thoroughly sick, and feeling like one more dead than alive, poor 
Coyner, bruised and sore, endeavoured to court sleep, and thus, in a 
measure, to drive off the fearful thoughts that were at times nearly 
driving him mad. He eventually fell into an uneasy slumber, and may have 
slept for an hour, when he was awakened by fire being applied to his feet 
by the "Judge- Advocate," of this mock court, who gloried in the name of 
Kelly, and who exultantly boasted of having murdered his captain for 
greenbacks.

   This fresh torture of young Coyner was considered the very acme of 
pleasure and amusement by his tormentors, some of whom held him, whilst 
others applied the 

Page 251

burning paper to his feet, the fire being supplied to them for this 
purpose by the sentries. He showed me the scars caused by the severe burns 
that he had received - scars that he will take with him to the grave.

   It was in vain that he appealed for mercy. At last wearied out, they 
permitted him to go free for the time being. "By these miserable brutes," 
said young Coyner, "I was not permitted to speak in defence of my country, 
nor yet assert my rights. If I remonstrated with them, I was knocked down 
and kicked by my brutal persecutors, oftener beaten.

   "This kind of treatment I endured for a period of three months and a 
half, when I was ordered out of this horrible place by the Provost-
Marshal, whom I found to be kind and compassionate, and who in my case was 
but obeying his superiors. He 

Page 252

placed me in a very nice and comfortable room which the Confederate 
officers held, and removed from my ancle the ball and chain that had so 
long been my companions in my misery.

   "Here I remained until the 12th of May, when I was removed to Fort 
Delaware to serve out a sentence of court-martial; viz., 'Hard labour for 
the war' - that had been passed upon me by my tyrannical captors."

   It is worthy of remark that, out of those nine officers who composed 
one of the most atrocious military commissions that was ever assembled, 
and before whom he was arraigned, all, with the exception of one of its 
members, have already met a violent death. Eight were killed before the 
20th of June by Southern bullets, and the remaining one lies already at 
the point of death, struck down by consumption's fatal 

Page 253

shaft, which is slowly but surely working out his fate.

   "Here I am for the present," he said, in concluding his narrative: "how 
long I am to remain I know not; but I am willing to suffer any and every 
thing for my country and her cause."

   Previous to my incarceration in Fort Delaware, and whilst I was yet a 
prisoner in the Carroll, I received a letter from my mother, in which she 
mentioned that she was about to forward to me a trunk filled with winter 
clothing and some few little articles necessary for my comfort, but before 
it came I was sent to the fort.

   Here the régime was much stricter, and prohibited the prisoners from 
receiving anything whatsoever in the shape of food, and it was only by 
special permit that even clothing was allowed to be sent here, 

Page 254

the different expresses refusing to accept parcels unless they had pasted 
upon the outside the passport of the fort.

   Desirous of keeping myself warm at least, I wrote to the Assistant 
Adjutant-General of the post, George W. Ahl, the following letter: -

"Jan. 4th, 1865, 
"Officers' Barracks, 
"Fort Delaware." 

"Capt. Geo. W. Ahl. 
    "SIR, -"Will you permit the undersigned to receive two blankets and a 
box that has already been forwarded to him from his mother's residence, 
Brooklyn, Long Island?

"And I am, Sir, 
"Respectfully, 
"S. WILDE HARDINGE." 

   This I forwarded to him by mail, although my friends scouted the idea 
of my ever receiving an answer to it; and their conjectures were correct, 
for Captain Ahl did 

Page 255

not deign to notice it. Whether it was owing to the weight of his official 
duties, or to his supreme contempt for rebels, I was never able to 
ascertain.

   Finally, however, one day, as I sat thinking upon my dreary 
imprisonment, of you my wife, and home associations, affected decidedly 
with the "blues," - Mr. J., whose misfortune it was to have been a 
Democrat and the editor of a Baltimore journal, said, "Well, Mr. H., have 
you received a reply to the letter you wrote the other day?"

   "No, sir," I responded, gloomily.

   "Well, try the General: he ranks several grades above an adjutant, and 
is therefore not so important as the lesser bird."

   "By Jove!" I replied, "the idea is a good one;" and forthwith I wrote.

   Certes, the General was far more 

Page 256

polite and attentive to his prisoners than his adjutant; for the next day 
I received by mail the following order: - 

Paste on the outside of the Box. 

Anything not mentioned in this Permit will be Confiscated. 

Head-quarters, 
Fort Delaware, 
Jan. 10th, 1865. 

Mr.
Supt. Old Carroll Prison, 
Has permission to send:

   (1) One box now in his possession, provided it contains clothing,

   To Sam W. Hardinge, Political Prisoner, A Prisoner of War at this Fort.

By command of
Brig.-General A. Schoepf, 
G. W. Ahl, 
Capt. &; A.A.A. Genl., 
P. S. Hemings. 

Page 257

   Of course this was all that was desired; and in a few days I had the 
extreme pleasure of overhauling the contents of this much-coveted box. 
And, oh! you of the outside world, who have never in winter slept without 
blankets, nor indulged in that very dubious luxury "the softest plank," 
for a bed in some modern bastile - you, I say, can never conceive the joy 
that I felt swelling up within me as "I laid me down to sleep" that night, 
wrapping myself up in this warm embrace. You, doubtless, would not envy me 
the luxury; and yet there were plenty of poor fellows here, without money 
and without friends, sleeping calmly and peacefully around me, as I have 
slept, without blankets to cover them, only their "martial cloaks" - and 
they are very ragged - for a covering.



Page 258

CHAPTER XVII.
Wanted at the Fort - The Order for Release - Farewells - Free at last - A 
cool Reception - An undignified Costume - No Conveyance - The Walk to 
Wilmington - Home once more - Conclusion of Mr. Hardinge's Journal.

   ON the 3rd of February, whilst seated with Major R. and Adjutant C--, 
talking of our anticipated exchange, the sergeant of the barracks came 
into the division and inquired for me. I immediately descended from my 
perch and presented myself before him, inquiring as I did so the purport 
of his visit.

Page 259

   "You're wanted at the fort - General P-- wants you. Follow me," was the 
reply.

   Half wondering what it was, and drawing closer about me my apology for 
a blanket, for it was a very cold afternoon, I followed my conductor until 
I reached the fort, when I was immediately ushered into the august 
presence of the commandant, who stared hard at me, without, however, 
saying anything.

   One of his aides, evidently a secretary, handed me, after a few moments 
had elapsed, the following document, which was to be my safe-conduct by 
sea and land: -

"Special Orders: 
"No. 62. 

"Head-quarters, 
"Fort Delaware, Del., 
"Feb. 3d, 1865. 

   "S. Wilde Hardinge (Political Prisoner) is hereby released from 
confinement at this Post, in compliance 

Page 260

with the following Telegram from the War Department, dated Feb. 3d, 1865: -

"Brig.-Genl. A. Schoepf, 
"Fort Delaware. 

   "The Secretary of War directs the release of S. Wilde Hardinge, a 
Prisoner at Fort Delaware. Acknowledge receipt, and inform me when Mr. 
Hardinge leaves the island.

(Sgd.) "JAMES A. HARDEE, 
"Col. and Insp.-Genl.; 
(Seal) "A. SCHOEPF, 
"Brig.-Genl. Comg." 

   The General then remarked, "Mr. H --, you have now our permission to 
leave the island. Will you go to-night or to-morrow morning? Do you go to 
Baltimore or New York City? I presume you will leave for Europe by the 
first steamer?"

   To this I made answer, saying, "I will go now. My destination is New 
York; and I thank God I am free. Rest assured 

Page 261

that I shall not trouble the Government by remaining longer than I can 
help. Good afternoon, sir;" and, turning, I left the room and walked 
rapidly back, still accompanied by the sergeant, to the barracks, that 
soldier remarking, "By --! you're an awfully lucky chap."

   I was not long, I can assure you, in packing up what few things I had; 
and then came the final adieus and partings. I confess that I felt badly 
as I took Major R -- by the hand and bade him good-bye, for he had ever 
been a good friend and counsellor of mine.

   I am not ashamed to confess that my eyes were filled with tears as one 
after another of my friends gathered around, shaking hands with me, 
wishing me a "God speed you, Hardinge," "God bless you, my boy," "Hope to 
meet you in 

Page 262

Dixie soon," "Write to me,?" &c.- words that I shall never forget, for 
they came from the lips of some of the bravest spirits in the Southern 
Confederacy.

   It was very fortunate that I had taken the precaution to hide my papers 
carefully about my person; for, upon reentering the guard-room previous to 
leaving the island, my bundle was first thoroughly inspected, then my 
pockets, the lining of my felt hat, and my boots; but here the soldier 
employed for that purpose luckily stopped.

   I was then permitted to step on board of a small steam-tug which lay at 
the wharf. This in a few moments cast off from her moorings, and she 
slowly glided away from the Château d'If of America, daintily picking her 
way through the miniature bergs that impeded our 

Page 263

progress to the mainland, which, although only about seven miles distant, 
we were nearly two hours in reaching.

   It was with feelings of unmistakable pleasure that I felt my feet 
pressing once more terra firma, and experienced the gratifying sensation 
awakening itself within me that I was once more my own master. So, drawing 
my tattered blanket about me, I stepped into the hotel that stood near the 
landing, and inquired the distance to Wilmington.

   The proprietor of this country place eyed me suspiciously; the dog who 
had been basking at the fire rose and growled at me; and the frequenters 
of the place, who were seated round the stove smoking or drinking, by 
their looks inferred as plainly as tongue could speak, "He is an escaped 
prisoner." And no wonder, when I 

Page 264

describe to you my presentation dress upon the occasion.

   A felt hat, remarkable only for its being crownless, adorned my head; a 
ragged blanket sufficed - only in a measure, however - to keep the cold 
from my coatless body; a pair of "inexpressibles," horribly dilapidated, 
encased my lower extremities; a boot on one foot, and the other wrapped up 
in old rags. Is it a wonder, then, that I was an object of doubtful 
character?

   Seating myself near the fire, I called for a glass of wine, which was 
handed to me by the bar-tender, who muttered something about a desire that 
he had of seeing "the colour of my money."

   To this I replied by drawing out my pocket-book, and offering him a 
fifty-dollar greenback, desiring him to give me small 

Page 265

moneys for it. In an instant the conduct of those present underwent a 
complete change; the bar-tender was all smirks and bows, and, with an 
urbanity that was all the more strikingly apparent from his former 
behaviour, desired to know if I wished to have an apartment.

   "No; I wish to go to Wilmington. How far is it from here?"

   "Sixteen miles," was the reply.

   "Is there any conveyance that will take me there to-night?"

   There was none.

   "Hem! not if I will pay you well for it?"

   "I wouldn't let a dog of mine go out this night," was the answer.

   "Then I will walk," I said.

   "Walk !" was chorussed simultaneously, 

Page 266

with astonishment depicted on their countenances.

   "Yes, walk! " I reiterated, desperately.

   "Well, if you get to Wilmington safely, you will do more than I expect 
you will, in that garb especially;" and the speaker looked at my costume 
with a sneer.

   "Nevertheless, I am going," I said; and, suiting the action to the 
word, I rose, and, attended to the door of the hotel by the group of 
astonished villagers, I commenced the journey.

   It had been snowing and raining alternately throughout the day, and the 
roads in this part of the country, never at any time when I saw them 
remarkable for their goodness, were ankle-deep with mud.

   I shall never have the recollection of that night obliterated from my 
memory. Several times I was on the point of lying down on 

Page 267

the road-side; but the love of life and the thought that - God willing - I 
should soon be at home, were strong within me, and I staggered on through 
the freezing rain and slushy snow.

   Twice on the way I inquired at the door of a farm-house the direction 
that I was to take, and once the "gude wife" of the quiet homestead where 
I gained admittance prepared for me with her own white hands a cup of 
coffee, and pressed me to stay all night at her hospitable place - an 
invitation in which she was seconded by the rest of her family. Herself 
and husband were both English, and I shall not forget their kindness to 
me; and, when I at last rose to depart, the husband, wife, and children 
bade me a kind adieu, the husband accompanying me down the road some 
distance.

Page 268

   At last, just as the clock was striking ten, I staggered into the dépôt 
at Wilmington, just in time to catch the train for New York. I had 
accomplished the distance in four hours; but it was fully a week before I 
was able to walk or sit even with any degree of comfort.

   Early in the morning I arrived in New York, and drove immediately to my 
brother's place of business. He was perfectly amazed at seeing me, and 
laughed immoderately at the deplorable figure I cut.

   Eventually, having procured a suit of clothes, and enjoyed the luxury 
of a bath and the inexpressible feeling of delight that one feels in 
finding his body once more in contact with clean linen, I bade adieu to 
the United States, and started directly for the shores of hospitable and 
peaceful England.



Page 269

CHAPTER XVIII.
Conclusion of Mrs. Hardinge's Narrative.

   MY memoirs were written, and a portion of them already in the hands of 
the publishers, when the startling news came which has thrilled all Europe 
and filled her inhabitants with horror - the assassination of Abraham 
Lincoln, President of the United States.

   It was always the boast of Americans, were they Northern or Southern in 
their sentiments, that theirs was the only history 

Page 270

that could show to the world a clear untarnished record of successful 
Republican rule. But their annals can be no longer so regarded; for, in 
the sudden demise of Mr. Lincoln by the bullet of an insensate fanatic, 
that peculiar institution of Europe, the school of the assassin, has 
transferred itself to the shores of America; and that country can no 
longer uphold her former boast that crime such as this had never been 
perpetrated under the Government commenced by George Washington.

   Personally I had no animosity against the honourable gentleman who has 
wielded the sceptre of Northern power for four long years. His has been a 
trying position. No man probably in the pages of History took his seat 
under more inauspicious circumstances. The Press of the world warred 
furious warfare upon him. He was 

Page 271

jeered and scoffed at; he was pronounced uncouth, vulgar, low, servile, 
and abject; disappointed politicians and opposition cliques vied with each 
other in calling him upon every occasion the "rail-splitter," and 
wiseacres of soothsaying proclivities speedily predicted that, with such a 
man as Abraham Lincoln at the head of the Government, the Union would most 
assuredly be split with as much precision and as quickly as Mr. Lincoln 
had been known to split rails when a backwoodsman in the Western wilds.

   Although a member of Congress previous to his elevation to the 
presidential chair of all the United States not in rebellion, and having 
for his political opponent in his presidential campaign that great 
statesman, the late Mr. Douglas, Mr. Lincoln was not a forensic success.

Page 272

   His speeches and arguments, teeming with wit and dry humour, were 
better calculated to attract the backwoodsman, by whom he was looked upon 
as a leading man, than the riper and more mature intellects with which he 
was in after-days brought into contact.

   I can appreciate and admire fully the character of such men who 
exemplify the sentence, "Out of nothing came something." As such I looked 
upon Lincoln, when, month after month, and then year after year, of his 
presidential term rolled by, and I saw how well he governed the Northern 
Republic and how firmly he held the reins of the Federal cause, which from 
time to time toppled upon the verge of a yawning chasm.

   Now all is changed. Can any one believe that Mr. Johnson is the man who 

Page 273

is to restore the Republic to what it was, save the nation from 
bankruptcy, and bring peace and good-will to America? It might not have 
been impossible with Mr. Lincoln; for that gentleman held out the olive-
branch, concealing no deadly weapon beneath it, to General Lee and his 
little band of heroes. With Mr. Johnson at the head of the Government of 
the North, who can foresee anything save anarchy and dissolution? He will 
fiddle whilst Rome is burning.

   Politically I did not like Mr. Lincoln, for in him I saw the destroyer. 
As long as it served his purpose, Mr. Lincoln boldly advocated the right 
of Secession. I trust that the accusation will not startle my readers; but 
such was the case; and I will cite one instance - when, as a 
representative, he openly 

Page 274

avowed "that any nation or people in any portion of the world had a right 
to rise up and rebel against the mother-government if they wanted to."

   When the North, in 1860-61, declared that she would usurp all rights, 
and have, whether or no the South wished it, and in direct violation of 
the Constitution, a strictly Northern president, Abraham Lincoln, still 
true to his former assertion of the right of Secession, accepted the 
nomination of the Chicago platform, and by this act inserted the wedge in 
that log called the Union. The log was ultimately split through force of 
circumstances.

   There are those who maintain that in this world women have no right to 
interfere in the affairs of state, in politics, in plots and counter-
plots. Others there are who, more chivalrous, are willing to 

Page 275

admit that women have as much right to act, think, and speak as men. I do 
not set myself up as an advocate of the woman's right doctrine, but would 
rather appear in the character of a quiet lady expressing her sentiments, 
not so much to the public as to her immediate friends. Therefore I trust 
that the former class of gentlemen will here forgive what to them may 
appear presumption; especially as, in the preceding chapters of my book, I 
have endeavoured to avoid politics as much as possible.

   But to return to my subject. The North boldly declared that she did not 
care much if the South did secede, and the South, never doubting the 
intentions of the North, took her at her word - seceded; and the 
consequence has been a civil war whose magnitude has never been surpassed, 
and 

Page 276

whose slain can be counted, not by tens, but by hundreds of thousands.

   Mr. Lincoln, as the representative of his nation, took the oath of 
office to uphold the Union "as it was." Then, after a while, "as it was" 
became "as it is." Finally, when Richmond fell and Lee surrendered, 
unwilling to be what Andy Johnson, "Beast" Butler, or "Jim" Lane of Kansas 
wanted him to be, a tyrant, he openly avowed his intention of effecting, 
if possible, a speedy union of North and South on the most conciliatory 
terms.

   This was sufficient. He was from henceforth a doomed man; the sands of 
his life were numbered; and he slept, little dreaming of his danger, of 
the sword hanging above his head.

   Not only was Lincoln doomed, but so 

Page 277

also were all those most in favour of conciliatory measures towards the 
South and her traders.

   "The Constitution as it is," said the notorious "Senator Jim Lane," of 
Kansas, "is played out; and I am ready to see any man shot down who 
favours the Union as it was talked of by Mr. Lincoln." And on the evening 
of the very next day after Mr. Lincoln had favoured a conciliatory 
treatment towards the South he was shot down!

   Englishmen! I appeal to your impartial judgment! I look to you for the 
discountenancing of the foul charge which Mr. Stanton has thrown upon the 
shoulders of our Southern leaders, that he might thereby induce the 
European Powers to withdraw their recognition of Southern belligerency. It 
is not the chivalrous 

Page 278

sons of the South who have done this deed. The papers, indeed, make the 
assassin use the words "Sic semper tyrannis!" But if this be true, then, 
as a Virginian woman, I say, never was the State-motto of Virginia more 
unworthily abused.

   And, in truth, our people have even more to regret in the death of 
President Lincoln than have the people of the North. When our noble old 
chieftain General Lee heard of the assassination, he covered his face, and 
refused to listen to the details of the murder; whilst, in the Libby 
Prison, where a large number of Southern soldiers were confined, the 
inmates on one of the floors held a meeting, and denounced the murder, 
passing resolutions that they were soldiers, and could not therefore 
applaud assassins.

Page 279

   Yet Mr. Secretary Stanton unblushingly charges the commission of this 
deed upon the South. There are those in the Northern States who will yet 
move heaven and earth to prove that it was the South; and to prove it 
money will be spent, bribes given, and, where money and bribes fail, 
threats will be used.

   But I appeal to Europe to judge discriminately between North and South. 
Do not pronounce too hastily your judgment, nor cast upon a brave and 
chivalrous people the stigma of assassination.

   Many have advised me to suppress these volumes, urging that their 
publication will probably cause my life-long banishment. But I cannot - I 
will not recede.

   I firmly believe that in this fiery ordeal, in this suffering, misery, 
and woe, the 

Page 280

South is but undergoing a purification by fire and steel that will, in 
good time, and by God's decree, work out her own independence.

THE END 

WILLIAM STEVEN, PRINTER, 37, BELL YARD, TEMPLE BAR.