Fort Delaware - Jeff Thompson

Jeff Thompson - Confederate Prisoner

Brigadier General Jeff Thompson was one of the most famous Confederates to be imprisoned at Fort Delaware. He was held there for the spring and summer of 1864. A colorful character with a distinct personality, his diaries reflect a stay at the Fort that might almost be desribed as pleasant, due to luxuries granted him because of his Officer status. He was known as a gambler and ladies man, whose military prowess earned him celebrity status. At the outset of the war, Thompson raised and led a battalion of cavalry. He had great success using guerilla tactics; ambushing and seizing ships and soldiers on the Mississippi River, and disappearing into the wilderness.

Jeff Thompson as portrayed in "Waterbound"

Dubbed the "Missouri Swamp Fox", Thompson was never a full Confederate General, but was treated as one by the army. He commanded as many as 5,000 troops. In August of 1863 he was captured in Pocahontas, Arkansas. He arrived at Fort Delaware in the spring of 1864.

Thompson was transfered from Fort Delaware under unique strategic circumstances. During the shelling of Charleston, Confederate General Sam Jones brought 50 Federal officers into the town and advised Union General Foster to cease bombardment or risk killing his own men. The Union countered this bold move by placing Confederate officers in the way of rebel shells.Thompson was one of the first Confederate officers placed on the ships in the direct line of fire. Eventually, 600 Conferderate officers were transported from Fort Delaware to Charleston Harbor, living in deplorable conditions, under fire from their own guns. They are memorialized in the South to this day as "The Imortal 600". Thompson was brought into Charleston under a flag of truce on July 29, 1864, when negotiations for prisoner transfer were finalized. After his release Thompson went to Mississippi and again took up his command. He finally surrendered his brigade on May 9, 1865 after General Lee's surrender.

Excerpts from Thompson's writings⁷

On Arriving at Fort Delaware (undated)
I now felt a little nervous, for as I said before, I did not know whether I was simply to be retained as a prisoner of war, or held on some other charge; and I had formed an unfavorable impression in regard to Gen'l. Schoepf, the commander at Fort Delaware, from the accounts given by the Gettysburg prisoners. But I was soon relieved, for he met me with soldierly frankness and told me that his orders were to treat me with all the favors compatible with my safety, that he could; and that if I would give my parole not to attempt to escape, I should have my freedom of the Island from reveille to retreat.Of course I accepted this proposition and was placed in comfortable quarters within the Fort and was allowed to select an orderly from among the Confederate prisoners. The citizen prisoners who had before occupied the quarters in the Fort, were removed to "the pen", and now we had a choice mess of some twelve or fifteen officers. We all had the parole of the Island and each gentleman endeavored to make himself useful to the other prisoners and agreeable to everybody. I was soon as comfortable as a prisoner could be and then again turned my attention to see what good I could do for the other prisoners who were in "the pens", as they were called.

I soon opened my correspondence again with my friends in Philadelphia, Baltimore, New York, and Boston-and hundreds of suits of clothes and thousands of comforts and favors were sent to the prisoners through my intercessions. James Oakes of Boston supplied "our mess" with all the inner man could desire, and with the presents from the ladies of New Castle and Delaware City and boxes of provisions from our more distant relatives and friends, we lived as sumptuous as I ever did in my whole life. A few days after I reached Fort Delaware, one of the Chaplains-an Episcopal Minister-came to me to tell me that certain ladies of New Castle desired to know if they could send me anything to add to my comfort. I told him that there was nothing that I needed so much as a pillow, for my neck was nearly broken and head sore, using my coat. The next day Mrs. Barnet Ingraham sent me a nice feather pillow and I acknowledged the receipt in the following manner.

Fort DE, March 15, 1864

Dear Madam,

Last night my dreams were full of pain
My visions were of blood.
I fought my battles o'er again,
And 'mid the dying soldiers stood,
My twisted neck and aching body,
Brought horrors to my sleep;
And gaping wounds and ghastly dead,
And bayonets thrust and sabers sweep,
Came rushing through my head.
Each time the sent'nel at the moat,
Called, "who comes there"?, I'd wake,
And find my pillow of my coat
Had caused my head to ache.
An uneven bump my temples pressed
Or twisted round my throat,
And rifles crack and cannons roar
Were but the echo of my snore
And the sent'nels challenge at the moat.
But now kind friend, this pillow soft
Will soothe this aching pain,
And visions of this horrid kind
Will never come again.
I'll dream all night of pleasant scenes,
Of home and all its pleasant charms.
My babes will greet me with their lips,
My dear wife with her arms,
And war and prisons shall be gone,
When 'ere I close my eyes;
And dreams of love shall only come,
And calm and sunlit skies;
The storms may blow and lightnings flash,
And angry dash the billow,
I'll dream of Home and loved ones there,
And bless thee for this pillow.

My Father's Father Was A Rebel
And my Mother's father was a rebel too
So when the South called out her soldiers
Pray what else would you've had me do
But buckle on my father's sabre
And seize at once his trusty gun
And strike a blow for Southern freedom
Like Old Virginia's faithful Son.
For grandfather Thompson stood with Henry
In Hanover's sacred Sod-
And grandfather Broadus followed "Harry"
In the Light Horse's foremost squad
And my grandsires stood together
When the foe at Yorktown fell
"Stock" like this against aggression
Could be naught else but "rebel"
And there are three hundred thousand,
Of the same good cross as me,
Standing now with sharp bright bayonets,
With Smith and Hood, Beauregard and Lee
Who will fight as did their fathers,
Through seven long years of blood and toil
To drive away the hated Yankee,
Who now pollutes the Southern soil.

I need hardly remark that in a few days all our mess had pillows and if it had not been "contraband of war", I would have had a feather bed.

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