were 330 at Salisbury, October 19th, the day we left;
116 of them were dead before February 1st, one company losing 22 out of
33 men.

* * * * *

Why this fearful mortality? Men do not die by scores, hundreds,
thousands, without some extraordinary cause. It was partly for want of
clothing. They were thinly clad when captured.

Pursuant to agreement entered into early in December, 1864, between the
Federal and Confederate authorities, supplies of clothing for Union
prisoners in Richmond, Danville, and Salisbury, were sent through the
lines. They did not reach Danville till February. Colonel Carle, 191st
Pa. and myself, with another officer (I think he was Colonel Gilbert G.
Prey, 104th N. Y.) were paroled to distribute coats (or blouses),
trousers, and shoes, among the enlisted men in their three prisons. Then
for the first time Union officers saw the interior of those jails. By
permission of Colonel Smith, Mr. Ficklin accompanied us on one of these
visits, and I saw him give fifty dollars in Confederate money to one of
our suffering soldiers. My part in the distribution was to sign as
witness opposite the name of each one receiving. Those rolls should be
in the archives at Washington.

On the 12th of February we issued shoes and clothing in the jail known
as Prison No. Six. It contained that day 308 of our men. There were the
seven surviving colored soldiers, and the one wearing our prison
commander's coat. We requested them all to form line, and each as his
name was called to come forward and receive what he most needed. Some of
them were so feeble that they had to be assisted in coming down from the
upper floor, almost carried in the arms of stronger comrades. Many were
unable to remain standing long, and sank helpless on the floor. Nearly
all were half-clad, or wearing only the thinnest of garments. Some were
white with vermin. Several were so far gone that they had forgotten
their company or regiment. Every one seemed emaciated. Many kept asking
me why our government did not exchange prisoners; for they were told
every day the truth that the Confederate government desired it. There
was a stove, but no fuel. The big rooms were not heated. The cold was
severe. About a third of them had apparently given up all hope of
keeping their limbs and bodies warm; but they kept their heads, necks,
shoulders, and chests, carefully wrapped. The dismal coughing at times
drowned all other sounds, a