770 NortH Caronina Troops, 1861-’65. should ever be called to witness the like again! At the train they received refreshments from the hands of several citi- zens. About 2,800 started to march to Greensboro. A great many who started were unable to make the march. Besides the stragglers, two hundred were left at Lexington and five hundred the next day, were abandoned on the road. About one thousand failed on the way. I have failed to mention that three or four hundred negroes were brought to the prison, and were treated precisely as the other prisoners of war. After this general delivery about 500 were confined, some of them from Sherman’s army, and were hurried to Charlotte just. in time to escape Stoneman’s raiders in April (1865). The day that Stoneman captured Salisbury his prisoners were penned in the very same stockade which had so long enclosed the hordes of Federal captives. All the buildings and the stockade were burned by Stoneman’s orders on the night of. 12 April. A number of his men had been imprisoned there, and doubtless some of them were in the detail to which was assigned the avenging torch. Having written thus frankly of the dark history of this great reservoir of misery and death, I now.ask, “Who is to blame?” And I answer in the very words of two escaped prisoners, newspaper correspondents, who published their prison experience after their return to the North. ESCAPED PRISONERS BLAMED EDWIN M. STANTON. Mr. Richardson says: ‘The government held a large excess of prisoners and the rebels were anxious to exchange man for man, but our authorities acted upon the cold-blooded theory of Edwin M. Stanton, Secretary of War, that we could not afford to give well-fed, rugged men for invalids and skeletons— that returned prisoners were infinitely more valuable to the rebels than to us, because their soldiers were inexorably kept in the army, while many of ours, whose term of service had expired, would not re-enlist.” Mr. Brown writes: ‘* As soon as Mr. Richardson and myself reached our lines we deter- mined to visit Washington, even before returning to New York, to see what could be done for the poor prisoners we had left behind, and de- termine what obstacles there had been in the way of an exchange. We were entirely free. We owed nothing to the rebels or to the government SALISBURY PRISON. 14 for our release. We had obtained our own liberty, and were very glad of it. for we believed our captives had been so unfairly, not to say inhu- manely, treated at Washington that we were unwilling to be indebted to the authorities of that city for our emancipation. We went to Wash- ington, deferring everything else to move in the matter of prisoners, and did what we thought most effective for the end we had in view. During our sojourn there we made it our special business to inquire into the causes of the detention of Union prisoners in the South, although it was known that they were being deliberately starved and frozen by the rebels. We particularly endeavored to learn who was responsible for the murder—for it was nothing else—of thousands of our brave soldiers; and we did learn. There was but one answer to all our questions, and that was, Edwin M. Stanton, Secretary of War. Although he knew the exact condition of affairs in the rebel prisons, he always insisted that we could not afford to exchange captives with the South; that it was not policy. Perhaps it was not; but it was humanity, and possibly that is almost as good as policy in other eyes than Mr. Stanton’s. After our departure from Washington, such a storm was raised about the Secreta- ry’s ears—such a tremendous outside feeling was created—that he was compelled to make an exchange. . ‘The greater part of the Northern prisoners have now been released, I believe, but there was no more reason why they should have been pa- roled or exchanged since February than there was ten or twelve months ago. No complications, no obstacles had been removed in the mean- time. Our prisoners might just as well have been released a year since as a month since, and if they had been, thousands of lives would have been saved to the republic, not to speak of those near and dear ones who were materially and spiritually dependent upom them. ‘‘Dreadful responsibility for some one; and that some one, so far as I can learn. is the Secretary of War. I hope I may be in error, but cannot believe lam. If Iam right, heaven forgive him! for the people will not. The ghosts of the thousands needlessly sacrificed heroes will haunt him to his grave.”’ As these extracts are against the officers of their own gov- ernment, one, if not both, written when the storm had lulled and the mind was capable of dispassionate reflection and judgment, we, of course, must accept them as true. They agree with and corroborate the opinion of all well-informed persons at the South—thus making it the verdict of the jury of the millions North and South, that Edwin M. Stanton, and not the authorities of the Confederacy, is guilty of the delib- erate destruction of thousands of Federal and Confederate captives whom he would not permit to be exchanged. Why, then, all this unrelenting bitterness—this blood- thirsty, inexorable vengefulness towards the South? Im- partial history will show that in the article of prisons, she was “more sinned against than sinning.” It is known by all who choose to know the truth, that stern necessity and insup- portable national misfortunes occasioned the sufferings of