Incidents in Rebel Prison
Life
by B.F.S. Wissinger
(From The Indiana
Progress, Indiana Co., Pa., March 23, 1876)
Contributed by Sonya Barclay.
INCIDENTS IN REBEL PRISON LIFE
I WAS TAKEN PRISONER ON June 13th, 1863, while lying wounded in the hospital at Berryville, Va. At this time there were about thirty-five wounded and sick soldiers, with three male and two female nurses in this hospital. When General Lee advanced towards Gettysburg, our brigade retreated, leaving us in the hands of the enemy. The Rebels entered the hospital, compelled us to sign parole papers and proceeded to place guards at each door. For three days we had nothing to eat. Though aware of this our captors made no efforts to procure rations for us. On the 20th, of June, we were removed to Winchester, ten miles distant. Arrived there th [sic] furnished with scant rations, which were the first we had had for nearly four days. The next day we were removed out of town, to a field, where we, though wounded, were required to put up our own tents, tents that were badly worn. Our bed was the ground and blankets we had not. The rains softened our beds and the Rebels gave us beans and hard tack. We had to do our own cooking, dress our own wound (without change of bandages) and pass the nights in darkness; not even a fire was allowed at night.
On the first night of July, a Rebel officer came to our tents and commanded us to fall into ranks, under assurance that he meant to take us into the Union lines. We were marched back to Winchester; other prisoners, captured at Gettysburg, joined us here; eight colored women were also put in ranks with us.
Under charge of a mounted officer, and thirty guards, we were stared on a march to Richmond instead of to the Union lines. There were now about one hundred and forty of us, women and all. During this four days march none but the latter received rations. Wounded, sick and weary, the little band trudged on; some pulled and ate grass from the wayside, and others begged of he guards to shoot them and end their misery. At night the gallantry of our captors was displayed by placing the soldiers in swamps and choosing dry spots for their female prizes.
On the evening of the 4th of July we arrived at Harrisonburg, and were lodged in an old grist mill, being compelled to climb a plank to the second story. Here we were served "two days rations" from less than a barrel of old bacon and "hard tack" (all of which we ate that evening) leaving us against without rations for two days, until our arrival at Staunton, where we were served with two crackers apiece, a small piece of meat and maggots innumerable.
On the following morning we were put in charge of Richmond home guards, and went by rail to Charlottesburg; remained there until 2 p.m.; and then proceeded to within five miles of Lynchburg, where the train was stopped on account of earth and rock slides which had obstructed the track. While marching through these cuts many of the wounded failed to keep up to the pace required by our guards, one of whom received a bayonet thrust in his arm for his tardiness. Another poor fellow was thrust in the side, and as he fell in the mud, exclaimed: "O, God! That my life might be spared till I could see my wife and child," but in a few minutes he died. When passing springs we were not allowed to drink, but urged on by blows of musket butts. We crawled the bridge on our hands and knees, and arrived in Lynchburg at 11 p.m.; seven of our number were missing; probably the fate of all was as that of the one alluded to above. In Lynchburg, we received two medals, on the strength of which we had to march fifteen miles, from whence we went by rail to Richmond, arriving there at 9 a.m., on the 9th of July. The women were taken up street, and we were taken to Libby Prison. Two officers came in and relieved us of our watches, money, and pocket knives; shoes, boots and socks, that were good enough, had also to be surrendered. Those who had good pants, even had to exchange them for ragged ones. After all this we were separately searched for more money. Then we were taken to the third floor and treated to two crackers and a half-pint of rice soup apiece, but the soup was too salt to be eaten. In the evening we received bean soup seasoned with maggots instead of salt, in about the proportion of three to each bean. The water used for cooking was taken from the James river, often filthy enough in itself to cause sickness.
Every few days we received alum water, which the Rebels claimed to have been brought from alum springs, but we thought not. Our usual drinking water was conveyed to us through pipes from the James river, and was very filthy. Our room was crowded with prisoners, some of whom had been in for four of five months. Hundreds were starved to skeletons, horrid and ghastly. We were compelled to lie on the floor, without blankets, and to hear the cries and groans of the suffering was terrible beyond description.
The reply of officials to the inquiry, "When may we be exchanged?" uniformly was, "Just as soon as you are ready for the grave." In evidence of our belief that they purposed destruction of life, I will give part of a conversation which I overheard, between a lady and an officer. In reply to her question, "Do you think the war will soon be over?" he said, "I think it will, Gen. Lee is in Pennsylvania killing Yanks by the thousands, and we are killing just as many in the prisons, as he is in battle."
On the 15th one hundred of us were formed in rank; and informed that we were to be taken to City Point. As we passed out a man stood at the door dealing out bread. I passed by without taking any when he called me back, cursing me "to take my bread and eat it." His eagerness to dispense of the wagons on which we were conveyed were stopped in the middle of the street. Wishing to evade the mud, we stepped to the side walk, when our guards commanded, "Stop, come back you Yanks! The mud is good enough for Yanks." It had been raining all day, consequently the mud was more than a foot deep. It was a hard road, for those wounded in the legs or weak from fever, to travel yet on we must go to a vacant store room, wherein we were confined. Here the Rebels removed our female nurses. The sick were retained there, and the wounded were removed to what they called a hospital, where we were bread [sic] aroused my suspicions and I threw it on the street. Comrades inquired what I meant. I told them that some thing must be wrong with the bread, or we would not be compelled to take it, and quite a number threw their bread away. They also urged us to drink of pails of water, brought by apparent citizens.
On our way to Belle Isle we saw the above mentioned female nurses waving handkerchiefs from a window of Castle Thunder.
Two hundred were brought from the Island and joined us. We noticed many on the Island, lying upon the ground, almost nude, and with no shelter whatever. We were transported on stock cars to City Pont, where we got aboard the steamer, New York, and sailed for Annapolis, M.D. [sic] On this journey quite a number of our party died, perhaps eighty.
Arriving at Annapolis seemed like coming back to life and civilization. Here, for the fist time since our capture, physicians dressed wounds and prescribed for the sick. A month later the ladies who had nursed us at Berryville, and last seen through a window of Castle Thunder, were led up the beach, wasted, haggard and faint, a mere wreck of their former selves.
Thousands in their graves, could they speak, might tell a true story more thrilling than fiction has ever produced.
B.F.S. Wissinger, Co. E, 67th Regt, P.V.