As it grew daylight
we arrived at Greenboro, N. C., a pleasant place, appropriately named, I judge,
for the beauty of the scene cheered and made me forget I was not on a pleasure
trip. The village is full of green trees and flower gardens, splendidly located
in a slightly undulating, but not hilly region. Away to the west the Blue Ridge
appeared like a panorama. We stopped near a large, thickly wooded park charming
as the original forest. The wide streets, rows of green trees glistening with
dew as the sun shone on them, the morning songs of birds, and the people on the
street and those that came to look at us as though we were a caravan of strange
animals again made us think of lost liberty. The people appeared anxious to
talk but were prevented. The soldiers said a strong Union feeling existed. I
judge they are tolerable compromisers. We left Greenboro at 8 p. m.; while
there I traded by hat cord for three biscuits with a Rebel soldier going to the
front. Thompson and I call it breakfast. From here to Salisbury we halted at
three stations; the people appeared kindly disposed, mannerly, our folks like.
At one station a citizen gave the boys a few cakes. I find human nature is the
same everywhere. Men may differ widely in opinion, still they are alike. Today
we can forgive or embrace what yesterday we fought. Whoever we meet and
wherever we meet them, we see something of ourselves reflected. This is
consoling in circumstances like these; so if we love ourselves we must love our
enemies. Man is a curious compound of many animate beings with an additional
quality higher and better.
"His nature none can o'errate, and none
Can under rate his merit."
At Salisbury we
stopped two hours. Men and women came out to talk but were not freely allowed.
One family inquired for Pennsylvanians, stated that they formerly lived in that
State, and sent two little negro girls to bring us water, but were finally
forbidden intercourse. Here is a prison where many Union officers and Union
citizens and newspaper correspondents are confined. At 6:30 p. m. we reach
Charlotte, 93 miles south of Greenboro and were marched a mile and camped.
After dark we drew a day's ration of hard bread and bacon; had had nothing for
36 hours.
SOURCE: John Worrell
Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville
and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 50-1