by John McElroy
CHAPTER XIV.
SERAINE WHITCOMB'S EXAMINATION OF THE REBEL PRISONS AND HENRY LYON'S RELEASE.--MAN'S INHUMANITY.--SERAINE WHITCOMB VISITS THE SOUTHERN PRISON PENS.--A SAD TALE OF WOE.-- GRAPHIC PICTURE OF SUFFERING, WRETCHEDNESS AND DEATH.
"Oh war, thou son of hell, Whom angry heavens do make their ministers, Throw in the frozen bosoms of our past, Hot coals of vengeance." --Shakespeare.
Uncle Daniel Lyon resumed his story by giving us a history of theadventures of Miss Seraine Whitcomb, who, as had been discovered, wasthe sister of James Whitcomb, now Aide-de-Camp to Gen. Anderson. Hecontinued by saying:
"Miss Seraine's journey to Richmond was accomplished by overcoming thegreatest of difficulties. The President's authority was good at everypoint in and through the Union lines. But when she reached the rebelpickets at or near the Rapidan she was placed under arrest as a spy, andtaken to the headquarters of the commander of the rebel army. She thenstated her case in a modest way, presenting the note given to her by ourPresident. Her story was so simple and reasonable that she was permittedto enter Richmond in order to lay her case before President Davis.At the same time the authorities at the rebel army headquarters had alurking suspicion of her on account of (as they thought) her pretendedperilous undertaking. Yet she was conducted to Richmond, and there tooklodgings at the Virginia Hotel, where she was subjected to a constantwatch over her every movement. She was in much doubt for several dayswhat course to pursue. There was great activity going on in makingpreparations for some movement of the rebel army. She was not permittedto leave her hotel.
"She finally wrote a note to President Davis, stating that she wished tobe permitted to have an interview with him on a matter of grave importto her; that she was alone and under a vigilant watch; that she thoughtshe could satisfy him of her harmless intentions.
"To this she received a very polite answer permitting her to see him at11 o'clock the following day, and informing her that he would send anescort.
"The next day, promptly at the time, an officer appeared and inquired ifMiss Seraine Whitcomb was in. She readily responded, and directedthat he be admitted. Presenting himself, he said he was Capt. T. P.Redingson. The arrangements were soon agreed upon, and the two startedfor the Executive office. The detention in the ante-room was-but slight,before they were ushered into the presence of Mr. Davis. Seraine said hewas seated in an arm-chair, rather oldish and common. Mr. Davis roseand greeted her pleasantly. He looked care-worn and haggard, and seemedthoughtful; but at no time during the interview did he forget hisgenial, polite manner toward her. She hardly knew what to say. After ashort time he broke the ice by asking her if he could serve her in anyway. She gained courage enough to tell him her whole story. She told himshe would not give information of any kind to any one in reference towhat she might see or hear while under his protection; that she wishedto examine the prison records for the name of her friend, Henry Lyon,who she hoped, through his kindness, to find, and have exchanged.
"She seemed to touch a tender spot in his nature. He gave her a letter ofsafe conduct through all the rebel lines, and authority to examine theprisons and hospitals, exacting at the same time a pledge from her thatshe would, when satisfied, return by way of Richmond and make a reportto him of all she should see and hear that was of interest in connectionwith the prisons, the army, or other kindred subjects. With thisunderstanding and pledge on her part she gave him her thanks, with manygood wishes for his health. She then bade him good, good-by and returnedto her hotel.
"Capt. Redingson, her escort, was very polite to her, and promised thathe would call the next day and make arrangements for her to visit theprisons and examine the records or rolls of prisoners in Richmond. Thenext day at ten o'clock the Captain called and escorted her to Libby.There she saw such suffering as made her almost frantic, but sheindulged in no remarks. As she passed along the pallets of rotten straw,the tears would roll down the sunken cheeks of their occupants as sheuttered some kind word to them. The rolls did not disclose the name ofthe one for whom she was in search, and she returned with the Captainto her hotel. That night she could not sleep. She had seen that day suchsights as she had never expected to witness, and could not have believedhad she not looked upon them with her own eyes. Men eating rotten food;many, very many, sick, sore and distressed; quite a number withoutsufficient clothes to cover their persons; no blankets; no way tosend word to friends; no privileges granted, their treatment harsh andbrutal. For the least delinquency inhuman punishment was inflicted. Noprospect of help or relief of any kind. All kinds of stories weretold them of disasters to the 'Yanks,' as the rebels called the Unionsoldiers. It was really a sickening sight to behold.
"The next day they visited Belle Isle, and there found the samecondition of things. After an examination of records they returned tothe Virginia Hotel. Miss Seraine then concluded to leave for Salisbury.She asked the Captain if he would be kind enough to see to getting hertickets and placing her properly in charge of the conductor, with suchinstructions as might enable her to avoid annoyance on her route. Thenext morning she was feeling dull and heavy on account of having passeda restless night. The shadows of that which she had seen during the daywere continually before her eyes. She got ready, however, and wassoon put on the train by Capt. Redingson, who knew the conductor andexplained to him her situation and desire to avoid annoyances. Thenbidding the Captain good-by, with many thanks for his kindness, she satdown in the car to pursue her weary journey, with many ill forebodings.She looked out of the window over valley, hill and stream, and as shepassed on through that picturesque country her eyes fairly feasted onthe majestic scenery beautified by the pines that tower heavenward alongthe line of the railroad.
"In her loneliness she could not resist the floodtide of hopes and fearsthat swept through her mind--now hoping and then fearing that she wouldnot find Henry. If she should, would he be in the condition of the poor,starved skeletons she had seen at Libby and Belle Isle? Could it bepossible that her lovable and gentle Henry could be so starved andharshly treated by these people, who had been so polite and kind to her?'No! no!' she thought to herself; 'it cannot be.' The train sped along,and at night she was in Salisbury. There she was taken to a hotel oflimited accommodations and worse attendance, as it was of the characterso common to that country in the days of slavery. Quite a number ofsick rebel officers, who had been sent there to recuperate, were in thehotel.
"The next morning it was discovered that a female 'Yank' was inthe house, and, the gossips whispered 'a spy!' Miss Seraine wasunsuspecting, and acted as if she had been a mere traveler in her ownState. But very soon an officer came and sat down by her and began aseries of questions, all of which she answered frankly. She told him hermission, and made inquiry about the prisoners there, wishing to lookfor her friend, Henry Lyon. This officer left her and went to theauthorities and had her put under arrest. At this she was frightenedalmost out of her wits. She wept and begged, but nothing would do butshe must have her baggage (merely a satchel) examined. This done, theysent a lady with her to her room and searched her person. Being so muchalarmed, she did not think of her letter from Mr. Davis. This was foundin her pocket and declared a forgery, as they thought if genuine shewould have produced it sooner. Finally the conductor who had broughtthe train through from Richmond returned, and finding how matters were,relieved her situation by-explaining it to the authorities. Theofficers and Mayor then hastened to make apologies for their action andafterwards treated her very kindly, and offered her every facility forthe examination desired. Her search at the place was as fruitless asheretofore. She found the condition of things here as elsewhere with ourpoor prisoners--nothing but extreme suffering and ill treatment. It washard for her to understand how any civilized people could find it intheir hearts to treat human beings so barbarously.
"She left Salisbury the first moment it was-possible for her to do so,and made her way in great sadness to Pine Forest Prison, meeting withmany perplexing things on
the way. As she neared Pine Forest she becamenervous and almost sick with fear that her mission would be a failure.Her strength and resolution all at once seemed to fail her. But on shewent, between hope and despair. En route to this horrible place, allkinds of phantoms rose before her mind. She would first see a starvedhuman being, and then a wild beast pursuing him; then the butchery andmurder of the victim; so that when she arrived at the village she wasalmost frantic and nearly insane. A gentleman, seeing her lonelyand peculiar situation, assisted her to a house, where she procuredquarters.
"It was not until the next morning that she made known her desire tovisit the prison. The lady of the house seemed to take in the situation,and, instead of regarding her as a spy, felt a sympathy for her andwillingly rendered her all the assistance she could. Miss Serainetold her whole story to her, and sought her aid in making the properinvestigation. This lady, Mrs. Lawton, made all necessary arrangementsfor the two to visit the Superintendent at three o'clock thatafternoon. Promptly at that hour they started, and when they entered theSuperintendent's office outside the prison-pen they were received mostcourteously by Mr. Hibbard. At the same time his face wore an expressionthat made Miss Seraine shudder. His movements were sluggish, his manneruneasy. She hastened to make known to him the cause of her visit, andat the same time presented Mr. Davis's letter. He scanned the paper veryclosely without making any remark. The arrangement being made to come attwelve o'clock the next day, they returned to Mrs. Lawton's house.
"Mrs. Lawton was kind, and readily engaged in conversation, giving themost horrible description and picture of the prison and the inhumantreatment the prisoners were receiving. Seraine was silent, andrefrained from expressing opinions or making any remarks save to saythat she had been treated with great kindness and consideration by theofficers she had met. Mrs. Lawton gave her to understand that she hadgreat sympathy for the prisoners, and that she was not entirely inharmony with the rebellion, although she had been a sufferer by the war,having lost her husband in the Confederate service. She said she wasliving there merely to make what she could by selling things to thesoldiers when she was permitted to do so. She had a great contempt forMr. Hibbard, then keeper of the prison. It seems Hibbard was only theretemporarily.
"Miss Seraine slept but little that night,--she was so eager toascertain if Henry was, or if he had been, there. Next morning she aroseearly and was ready for breakfast, though she ate but little. Whenthe hour of twelve o'clock arrived she and Mrs. Lawton repaired to theoffice of Mr. Hibbard as per appointment. They were received in a verypolite manner, and informed that a guard would be sent through thegrounds with them. They asked if he could not accompany them, as theywere very timid about passing through without his presence. He finallyconsented to attend them as guide and protector.
"'On first entering at the south gate they met a stench that almoststifled them. As they passed along they saw the prisoners in groups,standing and gazing at them with a stare like that of maniacs. Some weremoderately well clad, others almost in a state of nudity. The pen, forthat was what it really was, was in the most filthy condition that humanmind could imagine. As they passed along they could see the blush ofshame mantle the cheek of their escort. They walked through thecenter of the grounds, being the dryest and most cleanly. To describeaccurately the suffering of the men, the filthy condition of this pen,and the ghastly looks of those poor creatures, was more than any tongueor pen could do. They came to where a portion of the sick were lyingunder a very poor shelter, and there saw sick men with but littleclothing and in all the conditions of human suffering possible. Manywere covered with ulcers from scurvy, some were sick with fever, somewith their teeth dropping out, some dying with dysentery, some with oldwounds not healed, some with fresh ones made by their brutal keepers,and nearly all were literally swarming with vermin.
"Miss Seraine became so sick at these sights that she was almostfainting, and asked to return to the house and be permitted to comeearlier the next day, so as not to be in the pen during the middayheat. Her request was granted, and they left the prison. She was greatlyalarmed for fear she would find Henry among this suffering class of sickmen. The next day they entered the prison at nine o'clock, and passingaround on the north side of the grounds found many cooking and eatingtheir meals. There were no satisfactory conveniences for cooking. Alittle fire and a few pans and cups were all. The meat, what little theyhad, was broiled on coals. Many took their meal and stirred it in a cupwith the most disagreeable water ever used, and drank it downwithout cooking. Hundreds had died within a few days--some from sheerstarvation, as they could no longer take the food into their stomachs;some from scurvy, some from fever, and some were murdered by theguards for passing beyond where ordered. How any one could live in thatpolluted and poisonous atmosphere was the wonder. In the inclosure therewas a dirty, swampy piece of ground, with water stinking with filth of acharacter sickening to behold. When the rain fell all were subjected tothe drenching cold bath. On the ground and in the mud and the damp theylay. Many were there who during the prior Winter had been so exposedas to have their feet frozen, until in many instances they were rottingoff.
"These sights were so shocking in all respects that Miss Seraine wasafraid to speak, (except to say a kind word, when permitted to do so,)to any of the unfortunate men. It seemed to her that Hibbard knew whereHenry was, but was avoiding bringing her into his presence. So she saidnot a word, but looked well at all in view as she passed along.
"The punishments for any and every little breach of discipline were ofthe most outrageous character. She saw many persons with their handstied behind them, and others standing, with their thumbs run throughloops of cords tied up to posts. The guards were insolent and wereconstantly damning the prisoners. Take it altogether--their dirty,filthy food, their mode of cooking, their scanty rations, their clothes,the stinking water they were forced to use, the treatment of the sick,the punishments they were compelled to bear, the dirty, vile pen theywere in, and the poisonous atmosphere they were forced to breathe, thereis no account anywhere in the barbarous ages that ever did or couldequal Pine Forest Prison.
"Miss Seraine became sick and tired of the horrible sights, and at lastsaid to Mr. Hibbard that she did not wish to go around any more to lookupon the suffering prisoners, but desired to be taken where Mr. Lyonwas, if in the prison. He replied that he thought he was in the mainhospital. They directed their steps thither. On entering it she beheldso many ghastly men at one view that she recoiled, and for a momenthesitated. Recovering herself she proceeded. While passing along shebeheld a young man with sunken eyes, pale and ashy cheeks, lying on aboard cot, so emaciated that she had no thought of who it could be.But in a moment she heard her name whispered, and saw a lean, bony handreaching out towards her. She looked at him, took his cold, witheredhand, and spoke to him, asking if she could do anything for him. Hesaid:
"'I am Henry Lyon, Seraine. Do you not recognize me?'
"She fell into Mrs. Lawton's arms, exclaiming: 'My God!' When sherevived she fell upon Henry's neck and wept bitterly, exclaiming:
"'My Henry! my Henry! Can it be possible, can it be possible?'
"After some little conversation between them, she telling him that allwere well at home, etc., Hibbard informed her that the rules of theprison would not allow any further interview at present."
"What a brute," interrupted Dr. Adams.
"Miss Seraine asked to see Surgeon Jones. She ascertained that Henry wasjust recovering from an attack of typhoid fever and was now out ofdanger. She obtained permission from the Surgeon to visit him dailywhile she remained, and to bring him certain delicacies to eat. She thenreturned to Henry and bade him an affectionate good-by, with a promiseto see him again. With a sad heart she retraced her steps to Mrs.Lawton's. Retiring to her room she gave way to her grief and spent theremainder of the day in tears.
Seraine with Henry at Pine Forest Prison 258]
"The following day Mrs. Lawton again accompanied Seraine to theprison-pen. They took some
wine and cake to Henry. After being refreshedhe and Seraine had a long and pleasant interview, in which Seraine toldHenry all about her trip, etc. She told him she had decided to leavesoon for Richmond, and thence for home, but would try and arrange withthe Surgeon, (who seemed to have some humanity left,) for Mrs. Lawton tovisit and bring him some nourishment. The prison and the sights beheldby her had quite affected her nerves. On returning to Mrs. Lawton'sshe was suffering with a violent headache, and, going to her room, sheremained in bed for three days.
"Mrs. Lawton was very kind. She sat by her bedside and gave her adetailed account of her own trials. She was a daughter of a Union man,and had never lost her veneration for her country and the old flag.Although her husband had lost his life in the Confederate army, she hadnot changed her smothered feelings for the Union. She related to Serainethe many villainous outrages perpetrated upon the Union prisoners bythe inhuman keepers and guards of this vile den. She told graphicallyof seven fine-looking young men who were brought out of the prison forattempting to escape, and shot in the presence of a crowd of jeeringdevils. Said she:
"'If a man wishes to learn of "man's inhumanity to man," this is theplace.'
"She expressed her great desire to leave the place, as it was likedwelling on the verge of the prison for the souls of the damned. Serainetalked to her of her mission and what she desired to accomplish; alsoasked her to keep a watchful eye on Henry, and when the time should comefor an exchange of prisoners to remind Hibbard of Henry as one to besent away, provided she could arrange the matter. Henry had been aprisoner now for more than a year, and was naturally near the time forhis exchange if any one would look after the matter. After quite a delayon account of her being taken sick again, the time came for her to leavefor Richmond, and after thanking Hibbard for his courtesy, and tenderingmanifold thanks to Mrs. Lawton for her kindness and great care of her,as well as leaving some money with Mrs. Lawton for Henry's benefit, andpromising to write from Richmond if permitted to do so, she embracedMrs. Lawton as if she were her mother, and with tearful eyes theyseparated.
"Soon Seraine was on her way to report to Mr. Davis, President of the C.S. A., as she had promised to do, and also to effect an early exchangeof prisoners if possible. Her trip was a dreary one. She remained asquiet as possible, having no one to cheer her on her way. On arrivingat Richmond she again stopped at the Virginia Hotel, and there again metCapt. Redingson. He expressed pleasure at seeing her, and tendered hisservices as escort and protector while in the city. After detailingsome of her experiences on her journey, and thanking him for his formerpoliteness, and also for his present proffered services, she requestedhim to bear her compliments to President Davis and ask for an earlyinterview, as she had promised to return and report to him. The Captainreadily assented, and on returning that evening informed her that hewould be pleased to accompany her to the Executive Office the next dayat eleven a.m., at which hour President Davis would see her. She wasvery anxious and quite nervous until the time arrived. Exactly at eleveno'clock the next day the Captain came for her with a carriage, and verykindly attended her to the presence of the President.
"Mr. Davis met her with cordiality. He spoke to her about her perilousundertaking, and hoped she had been treated kindly by his people. Healso inquired as to her success in finding her friend, to all of whichshe responded that her treatment was kind, and her efforts were so farcrowned with success. She gave him an account of her journey and visitsto the prisons; her examination of them, and finally her success infinding Henry at Pine Forest. She told him the truth about the prisons,the food, raiment, and treatment of the prisoners. He answered in amanner rather tender, and feelingly expressed his desire to have mattersin this direction improved, but regretted the impossibility of doing allthings as we might desire to have them done. He spoke of the barbarismof war and its attendant cruelties. But he soon changed the subject,after thanking her for her honesty and for having the nerve to tell himthe truth.
"He then inquired what she desired in reference to her friend. She askedfor his release as the only means of saving his life. He responded thathe would order his exchange at once, and promised her that he should beon the first boat or train sent North with prisoners. He also gave herpermission to write to Mrs. Lawton on this subject, provided she did notuse his name in connection with this promise. He then gave her a letterof safe conduct through his lines and detailed Capt. Redingson to gowith her to our lines. Having accomplished the object for which she hadgone South, and reported fully and truthfully to Mr. Davis as she hadpromised to do, she took leave of him with her best wishes for hispersonal welfare. He bade her farewell and God-speed in a very kind andtender manner, so much so that Seraine has ever spoken kindly of him asa man.
"She repaired to the hotel and told Capt. Redingson that she desired toleave early the next morning for the Headquarters of the Union army. Hesaid he would call for her as requested, and they separated. Seraine,after going to her room, wrote to Mrs. Lawton and inclosed a noteto Henry, merely telling him that she was well and on her way home,encouraging him to bear up under his sufferings, etc.
"The next morning Capt. Redingson called according to his promise, andthey were off at once for the lines of the armies. On arriving at theHeadquarters of the Confederate army, they were nicely entertained bythe commanding General. They partook of a good meal and then rested forthe night, Seraine being cared for at a farm house near by. The nextmorning, on being provided with a pass through the lines, they wereconducted under a flag of truce to the Headquarters of the Union army,some twenty miles away.
"Seraine was received by the commanding General and taken care of. Capt.Redingson, after having delivered his charge, returned with Seraine'sblessing for his kindness to her. After she had taken a rest sheconversed with Gen. Meador, who was then in command, and related tohim her experiences, at the same time keeping her promise to speak ofnothing pertaining to the Confederate army or any movements of thesame. After a night's rest she was sent under charge of an escort toWashington city, where she stopped for several days, until she couldsee the President and Secretary of War. She finally managed to have aninterview with the Secretary, and, after explaining who she was and hermission South, he replied with some nervousness:
"'Henry Lyon' Is he a son of Daniel Lyon, of Allentown, Ind.?'
"On being answered in the affirmative, he exclaimed:
"'My God? what affliction that family has had! His oldest son diedrecently, being the third son he has lost since this war began.'
"This was the first knowledge that Seraine had of the sad distressin the family. She sighed and dropped a tear. The Secretary at onceunderstood the situation, and told her Henry Lyon should be looked afterand properly cared for. She asked if, when he was exchanged, he couldnot be discharged from the service. She said that Mr. Lyon's seven sonswere all in the army, and three having lost their lives, she thoughtone ought to remain at home to comfort the parents during their terribletrials. She struck a tender chord in the Secretary's heart, and hereplied: 'Yes; when he returns, you write me and it shall be done, if heconsents.'
"This brought joy to her very soul. She bade the Secretary good-by,saying as she left that he would hear from her in due time.
"She then called at the President's and sent in his own letter which hehad given her when she started South, that she might thereby be recalledto his memory. He sent for her at once. As she entered his office hearose and greeted her most affectionately, calling her 'my child,' andbidding her be seated. He commenced plying her with questions, and shetold him the whole story. When she related what she had seen in therebel prisons, his countenance saddened and tears fell from his eyes. Hesaid:
"'This must be remedied somehow. Humanity revolts at retaliation inkind, but in an instance like this it might be justified.'
"She told him what she desired, and what the Secretary had promised. Hereplied:
"'My dear child, it shall be done. My old friend Lyon is making moresacrifices than should be demanded of any
one. I hope you will seehim soon, and when you do, tell him that I often think of him and hisfamily, as well as what they are doing for their country.'
"The President was a man of generous impulses. He had a very kind heart,full of sympathy for humanity.
"She left the President with feelings of the deepest affection andgratitude, having every assurance that her wishes would be compliedwith. As she left, he bade her good-by, calling her his 'littleheroine.' From Washington she went to Baltimore, learning that someprisoners who had been exchanged were to be landed there. She remainedat the Burnett House, most of the time in her room, not wishing to makeany acquaintances, but watching the papers closely to ascertain the timefor the arrival of the prisoners. One evening she learned that avessel had come into port with 200 prisoners. She hastened to the dock;arriving all out of breath, and seeing the large crowd that was waitingshe became very much excited, and observing an officer in uniform sheventured to speak to him. It was Gen. Shunk, of Ohio. She told himwho she was, and also for whom she was looking. He answered her verycordially, and said he knew Mr. Daniel Lyon, formerly of Ohio, andinquired if the person in question was one of his sons. She said he was,and he told her to wait and he would see, as he was then in commandat Baltimore. In a few moments he came back with the glad tidings thatHenry Lyon was among the prisoners. She was going to rush on board thevessel, but the General detained her, informing her that it was notallowable under the orders, but he would bring Henry to her as soon aspossible. Soon she saw Henry coming from the vessel, leaning upon thearm of a comrade. He seemed to be very weak, and still looked likea mere shadow. He was brought where she stood, trembling and almostfearing to meet him lest his mind might have given way somewhat underthe trying ordeal through which he had just passed. She threw herarms around his neck and wept aloud. A carriage was procured, and sheaccompanied him, by permission, to the hospital where he was orderedto go. Reaching there, he was placed in a nice clean ward. There theytalked matters over, and Henry agreed to the discharge from the service.Seraine left him with the nurses, saying that she would return as soonas possible; at the same time he was not to let his people know anythingof his whereabouts. She left that night for Washington.
"The next morning at the earliest hour that she could see the Secretaryof War, she made her appearance. On meeting the Secretary he recognizedher, and asked if she was after the discharge about which she agreed towrite to him. She replied that Henry was now at Baltimore, having beenexchanged. Then she told him of his condition. The Secretary at onceordered the discharge made out, and as soon as it had passed throughthe proper officers' hands and was returned to him he handed it to her,saying:
"'You deserve this yourself, without any other consideration.'
"She again thanked the Secretary, and at once repaired to thePresident's Mansion. When she was admitted, on seeing her the Presidentguessed from her bright countenance the whole story, and congratulatedher most heartily. She told him all, and showed him Henry's dischargeand thanked him for his kindness. He said:
"'May God bless you, my child, and give you both a safe journey home!'
"Returning to Baltimore, she made arrangements to have Henry placed in aclean car and taken to Allentown. After they were under way she told himabout the discharge, and he was delighted. She telegraphed me to mee herat the depot, but did not say one word about Henry. I read the dispatchto the family, and many were the conjectures. Peter said she had notfound Henry, and a great variety of opinions were expressed. My wifeburst into tears, fell down on the sofa, and cried, saying she felt thatHenry was dead. Ham, hearing what was being said, concluded it was histurn to guess; so he began:
"'You's all off de track. Ham sees it all frough de glass in he head, hedo.'
"'Go 'long wid you, you ole fool: since you's free you 'spec' you is bigand knows a heap. You doesn't know nuffin, you don't,' said Aunt Martha.
"'Well, alright, Marfa; 'spec' me not know bery much; but, sho's you isborn, dat boy all right; you see, you jes' wait. I say no mo', but I seewhat is de matter. You jes' wait, dat's all you got to do.'
"The next morning I went down to the depot with a carriage, and therefound Seraine and Henry waiting for me. I embraced my poor boy, overcomewith grateful emotion. My joy was complete in finding him alive. He wasa living skeleton. We were not long in driving to the house. All wereout on the portico to see Seraine, no one but Ham expecting Henry withher. As they all saw Henry the family leaped with joy, and rushing outto meet us, but seeing Henry's ghastly appearance a sudden sadness cameover all. We helped him out of the carriage. He was completely overcomewhen he saw his mother. She clasped him in her arms and cried piteously.He was assisted into the house and laid upon the sofa. All seemedto have overlooked Seraine in their great joy over Henry's return. Iintroduced her to each one of the family including old Ham and AuntMartha.
"'Didn't I see dem in my glass, Marfa; didn't I? What you got to saynow?'
"'I 'spects you did, Ham; dey is heah, sho.' Bress de Laud; he bring disboy home. I not see him afore dem pizen Sesh fix him dat way! Dey starvehim. What did dey do to him to make him look like dat?'
"Soon we all got settled, and after breakfast we heard Seraine's story.She was our heroine, and no mistake. No one of us could do too much forher. My good wife wanted to have her for a daughter at once. She couldnot let her go out of her sight for a moment. She hugged her, kissedher, seemed almost to want to take her in her lap as a child; in fact,we all loved her. She had gone through great perils to save our dearboy, and why not love her I For some days we did nothing but talk overher journey-ings and what she saw and did. She was the idol of ourhousehold. When Henry had gained strength enough to bear up under thedouble shock, we told him of the death of David and James, which painfulnews he had not heard before. It took him many days to rally after thismelancholy intelligence of the fate of his dear brothers. After Henrywas strong enough to walk about without help Seraine thought she mustleave us for a time and return home. This saddened our hearts, as we hadgrown much attached to her. But she and Henry talked the matter over,making their own arrangements, and the next day Jackson escorted her toher home in Michigan. When she left, no family ever wept more in sorrowat the departure of any one than did ours.
"There was a mystery connected with her periling her life in the way shedid that I could not then solve, but I made no inquiry into her secret.
"Of the few left to us they were now once more nearly all together, andfurther plans were in order."
At this point Dr. Adams said, "The horrors of those rebel prisons haveever been like a specter before me whenever I hear them mentioned."
Judge Reed here interrupted, saying: "I indorse every word of MissWhitcomb's description of these prisons. I endured their horrors andinhumanity for nine months, and she does not tell the half that might betold. To show that Seraine's statement is not in the least exaggerated,I have saved an article from the Sumter (S. C.) _Watchman_, publishedin reference to the Florence Prison at that time, which seems to haveequaled the Pine Forest.".
Being asked to do so, Dr. Adams read as follows:
"The Camp we found full of what were once human beings, but who wouldscarcely now be recognized as such. In an old field, with no inclosuresbut the living wall of sentinels who guard them night and day, areseveral thousand filthy, diseased, famished men, with no hope of relief,except by death. A few dirty rags stretched on poles give some of thema poor protection from the hot sun and heavy dews. All were in ragsand barefoot, and crawling with vermin. As we passed around the line ofguards I saw one of them brought out of his miserable booth by two ofhis companions and laid upon the ground to die. He was nearly naked. Hiscompanions pulled his cap over his face and straightened out his limbs.Before they turned to leave him he was dead. A slight movement of thelimbs and all was over--the captive was free! The Commissary's tentwas close by one side of the square, and near it the beef was laid uponboards preparatory to its distribution. This sight seemed to excite theprisoners as the smell o
f blood does the beasts of the menagerie. Theysurged up as near the lines as they were allowed, and seemed, in theireagerness, about to break over. While we were on the ground a heavyrain came up, and they seemed to greatly enjoy it, coming out _a parisnaturalibus_, opening their mouths to catch the drops, while one wouldwash off another with his hands, and then receive from him the like kindof office. Numbers get out at night and wander to the neighboring housesin quest of food.
"From the camp of the living we passed to the camp of the dead--thehospital--a transition which reminded me of Satan's soliloquy--
"Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell, And in the lowest deeps, alower deep, Still threatening to devour me, opens wide."
"A few tents, covered with pine-tops, were crowded with the dyingand the dead in every stage of corruption. Some lay in prostratehelplessness; some had crowded under the shelter of the bushes; somewere rubbing their skeleton limbs. Twenty or thirty of them die daily;most of these, as I was informed, of the scurvy. The corpses laid by theroadside waiting for the dead-cart, their glaring eyes turned to heaven,the flies swarming in their mouths, their big-toes tied together witha cotton string, and their skeleton arms folded on their breasts. Youwould hardly know them to be men, so sadly do hunger, disease, andwretchedness change 'the human face divine.' Presently came the carts;they were carried a little distance to trenches dug for the purposeand tumbled in like so many dogs. A few pine-tops were thrown upon thebodies, a few shovelfuls of dirt, and then haste was made to open a newditch for other victims. The burying party were Yankees detailed forthe work, an appointment which, as the Sergeant told me, they consider afavor, for they get a little more to eat and enjoy fresh air.
"Thus we see at one glance the three great scourges of mankind--war,famine, and pestilence, and we turn from the spectacle sick at heart,as we remember that some of our loved ones may be undergoing a similarmisery."
"This publication," said Col. Bush, "made in one of their own papers atthe time, proves that all that has ever been said of their treatment ofour prisoners is true."
"Yes," said Uncle Daniel, "and much more."
"Uncle Daniel," said Dr. Adams, "this Miss Seraine Whitcomb was, indeed,a true woman, and, as the President well said, a 'little heroine.' Itake it she was rather small, from this expression of his."
"Yes, she was rather small, but a pure jewel."
"She was a woman of great determination, and loved purely and strongly.There are but few instances of such pure devotion and rare patriotism tobe found in the annals of history. What feelings she must have had whiletraveling through the Confederacy in such anguish and suspense. She wasa jewel, sure enough."
Col. Bush here interrupted, saying: "The condition of our poor soldiersin the prisons she visited must have driven her almost insane. Itcertainly drove many of the poor sufferers into a state or condition ofinsanity, in which numbers died in their ravings and delirium."
"Is it not wonderful," said Dr. Adams, "how soon these barbarities andinhumanities are forgotten by our people?"
"Yes," said Col. Bush; "but you must remember that our people are movingtoo rapidly to look back upon scenes of distress. Money and power arenow the watchwords--throw patriotism to the dogs. It is not needed nowto save their property and their rights. You must remember that a manlike Hibbard, the deputy at Pine Forest Prison, who allowed men to beshot down like dogs and starved like wild beasts, is now looked uponwith more consideration and favor than Uncle Daniel, who gave his wholefamily as a sacrifice for his country. Did not this same Hibbard travelall through our country last Fall making speeches? Was he not receivedwith shouts by our very neighbors, within a stone's throw of this dearold man, whose son was starved near unto death in Pine Forest Prison bythis man? Has he not held high positions in his State since? And I wouldnot be surprised to hear that he had been appointed to some ForeignMission, in order that he may represent our country abroad in the trueChristian spirit of our advanced civilization!"
"Yes," said Uncle Daniel; "when he was North on his stumping tour Imentioned the fact of his inhumanity, and only received jeers from thosewho heard me--some young students who were not old enough to be in thewar, and now feel that it must never be mentioned except in a whisper.It seems that all the treason, infamy, and the barbarities and crueltiespracticed during that bloody period are now condoned, and the personswho practiced the greater wrongs are made thereby the more respectable.Oh, that I had not lived to see these things! It makes me almost doubtmy own existence. Sometimes I feel that it is all a dream."
Maj. Clymer, in order to draw the aged man's mind away from thisunpleasant theme, inquired if he knew what became of Mrs. Lawton.
"I cannot tell," said Uncle Daniel; "she and Seraine corresponded for anumber of years after the termination of the war. The last we ever heardof her she had married with an Englishman and located in Canada. Godknows, I hope she may yet be living and happy. She was a noble woman. Ifear, however, that she, too, has passed away, as we have had no tidingsof her for many years."
Uncle Daniel at this time becoming weary and very melancholy, we excusedhim for the present, and asked permission to return again, whenhe promised that he would continue his narrative, and, bidding himgood-night, we left, with an increased desire to hear more from hishonest and truthful lips.