there was a sad contrast in their appearance here and when I last saw them.
They told me I had come to an awful place, but when I told them my story they were silent.
But there was great suffering and death here; it was a second Andersonville
, in proportion to numbers; the rations grew smaller every day. We were next taken to Wilmington, N. C.
We camped outside the city, for our navy was shelling the place at the time, and our generals would not agree on armistice for the parole of prisoners.
We were sent back to Goldsboro
riding on open cars.
At this time I was barefoot, and there being a heavy frost, my feet were frostbitten.
The rebels appointed six of our men nurses, to care for the sick, and I was one of them; it then being near a parole, they wished to save every man possible.
In attending to the wants of so many sick, I neglected myself, and contracted a severe cold, which a few days after settled into a fever; but I managed to keep up until we went on board our transports.
was taken, our troops took possession of the city, and marched ten miles from it into the interior towards Goldsboro
; then an armistice for parole of prisoners was agreed upon, and they went into camp.
We were sent again on the cars to them, the train halted in the woods, and there for the first time for many months we beheld the glorious old banner of the free, moving defiantly.
To us it was a glorious sight, and many of the men wept like children.
received us, and made an address, in which he said: ‘I expected to behold a hard-looking body of men, but I did not expect to look upon a mass of living skeletons.’
He then turned his head away and wept for a moment, then, turning to the men, he gave each good advice about eating, etc. Had some of them heeded it, they would probably have saved their lives.
Most of the troops here were colored, and they gave us a warm greeting.
They had erected large arches of evergreen, through which we passed, and a band of music stationed at each arch played the national airs.