CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 3 1924 089 958 015 DATE DUE -^^^Si^0^ism PRINTED IN U S A In compliance with current copyright law, Cornell University Library produced this replacement volume on paper that meets the ANSI Standard Z39.48-1992 to replace the irreparably deteriorated original. 2001 1^ Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924089958015 OJurncll UniuerHtty ffiibratg 3tl)aca. JVeiu IJnri! THE JAMES VERNER SCAIFE COLLECTION CIVIL WAR LITERATURE THE GIFT OF JAMES VERNER SCAIFE CLASS OF 1889 1919 j"n,- 1 »:'i(ii • » Jij' ■- iii'iii ■« « 1 jT^V*^ I \ -.>^ ■* -r i '' <&' R Kr> I I T o z; <1 <; o z ."^ .i Prisoners of War MILITARY PRISONS PERSONAL NARRATIVES OF EXPERIENCE IN THE PRISONS AT RICHMOND, DANVILLE, MACON, ANDERSON- VILLE, SAVANNAH, MILLEN, CHARLESTON, AND COLUMBIA A General Account of Prison Life and Prisons in the South during the War of the Rebellion, including Statistical Information Pertain- ing to Prisoners of War; together with a List of Officers who were Prisoners of War from January 1, 1864 ASA B. ISHAM LATE FIRST LIEUTENANT CO. " F," SEVENTH MICHIGAN CAVALRV, FIRST BRIGADE, FIRST DIVISION, CAVALRV CORPS, ARMY OF THE POTOMAC HENRY M. DAVIDSON LATE SERGEANT BATTERY " A," FIRST OHIO LIGHT ARTILLERY, JOHNSOn's DIVISION, ARMY OF THE CUMBERLAND. AND HENRY B. FURNESS LATH SBRGEANT CO. " B," TWENTV-FOURTH WISCONSIN INFANTRY, SHERIDAN's DIVISION, ARMY OF THE CUMBERLAND CINCINNATI LYMAN & CUSHING 99 West Fourth Street 1890. lif "^^m^ Copyright, 1890, by Asa B. Isham, Henry M. Davidson, and Henry B. PuUnkss. Electrotyped by Printed and bound by CAMPBELL & CO., ROBERT CLARKE & CO Cincinnati, O. (-■■*■ ,.^ ' ' Cinci nnati , O. JPREF^CE. During the past ten years, many narratives have been published, detailing the sufi'erings of Federal prisoners in the late AVar of the Rebellion. They have, for the most part, been confined to accounts of the personal experience of the writers in the several prisons in which they were confined, and manj' of them exhibit vivid pictures of the horrible condition to which they were reduced by the policy of their captors. The following narratives furnish a more complete ac- count of prison life than any which have been hei-etofore presented to the public, bj' combining the stories of the hardships endured by officers and by private soldiers re- spectively. They were prepared for the press many years ago, while the incidents related were still fresh in the memory, and while the unfortunate writers were still smarting under their terrible experience. The truthful- ness of these narratives is, however, corroborated by a cloud of witnesses, whose veracity is unimpeached. The General Account of prisons and prisoners in the South attempts to give a somewhat more extended view of the subject, and shows that the treatment described by the narrators was general, and not confined to particular prisons or special localities. The materials for this part of the work were drawn from various sources. " The Keport on the Treatment of Prisoners of "War," made to the Forty-fifth Congress, and known as " Shank's Re- port," has furnished the main supply of documentary evi- dence. It is referred to as " H. R." in the following pages. (iiU iv Preface. The narratives of Captain ISTewsome, Lieutenant A. C. Roach, and Lieutenant A. O. Abbott have been freely consulted; while the "Andersonville Diary of First Ser- geant John L. Ransom," and the exceedingly interesting story, " Life and Death in Rebel Prisons," by Sergeant- Major Robert H. Kellogg, have been used to verify the testimony derived from the recited tales of other sufferers, who have never told their story to the public. Some statements have also been drawn from " Martyria, or An- dersonville Prison," by Dr. Augustus C. Hamlin, Medical Inspector U. S. Army, a profound and learned work, seek- ing from a medical and scientific stand-point to account for the horrors of that prison. The authors are also under obligations to General J. D. Cox and Major E. C. Dawes for valuable advice in the preparation, and to the latter gentleman and to Captain Robert H. Kellogg for the free use of their valuable collections of prison liter- ature. The Authors. June 9, 1884. COT^TTENTS. CHAPTER I. Starting upon a Campaign — Marching into the Wilderness— A Night Scene and March — Going into Battle — The Uses of Cavalry— Sup- porting a Battery — Panic in the Lead Horse Caravan — A Horn Blowing — Sleeping on the Field — Knowledge Respecting the Wilder- ness 3 CHAPTER II. On a Raid to Richmond — Malcontents — The Delights of a Cavalry March — Releasing Captives — Capture of Beaver Dam Station — Gen- eral Sheridan — Battle of Yellow Tavern 13 CHAPTER III. The Charge and Capture — A Pure Philanthropist — General J. E. B. Stuart Mortally Wounded — On the March toward Richmond — Lieu- tenant Hill's Mare 20 CHAPTER IV. The Provost Guard and the Teamsters — A Sound Sleep — Independent Jehus — Entrance into Richmond — Libby Prison — The Ration and its Effect— The Occupants of the Dark Cell— The Outlook from Libby 26 CHAPTER V. En Route to Macon, Ga. — Cruelties to Enlisted Men — A Brutal Officer of the Guard — Colic — Confederate Economy — Native Curiosity — Arrival at Macon— The Prison Camp — Rations and Barter — Calling the Hours 37 (V) vi Contents. CHAPTER VI. Brigadier-Generals — General Heckman — Scrambling for Garbage — A Rare Biped — Fourth of July at Macon — Speeches ; Songs — The Stars and Stripes Displayed — Affecting and Exciting Scenes — " God's Flag." 44 CHAPTER VII. '" The Council of Five Hundred "—The Oath of Initiation— Bold Plans of Escape — Betrayed by the Chief Officers of the Organization.. 52 CHAPTER VIII. Departure from Macon — Nearly Recaptured — Ventilating the Cars — Prison Camp at Savannah — Rations — Tunnels and Tunneling — The " Crank " Lieutenant 60 CHAPTER IX. Charleston, S. C. — The Jail Yard — Colored Soldiers, Deserters, and Thieves — Under Fire of Union Batteries — Robbing a Sutler — Wrecking a Tent 67 CHAPTER X. Columbia, S. C. — Camp Sorghum — Rations — Killing a Hog — Meat De- privation — Confederate Money Obtained — Sutler's Prices — Building Quarters— A Foul Place — Hundred Days' Men— Escapes 74 CHAPTER XI. Murder of Prisoners— Offers of Work — The Test of Prison Life —Captain Dygert — General Stoneman — Relief for the Mind — Sources of Com- fort 82 CHAPTER XII. Prisoners in Columbia Jail — A Loyal Ladj' — Building a Bridge — One too Many— Misrepresentations— Endeavors to Inflame Prisoners against the Government— The Food Question — Retaliation— The facts in Reference to Exchange of Prisoners— Balloting for Presidential Candidates gg Contents. vii CHAPTER XIIL Sympathy oi Southern People and Troops for Prisoners — Abiding Gui-sts — Gray Backs ; Travelers — Clothing— Repairs and Washing — Cooking and Cooking Utensils — Diseases — Homesickness — Sanitary Regulations — Distribution of Rations — Diversions — Music—" Sher- man's March to the Sea." 97 CHAPTER XIV. Enrolment of Sick and Wounded for Exchange — Departure from Co- lumbia — Branchville — A Desperate South Carolinian — Charleston — Devastation and Desolation — Confederate Flag-of-Truce Boat — On Board " God's Vessel " — Enlisted Men From Andersonville — Horri- ble Condition — Fearful Mortality on Shipboard — Admiral Porter's Fleet — The Old Flag Supreme and Memorial 108 CHAPTER XV. Contrast between the Officers and Enlisted Men — Condition of Enlisted Men at Andersonville — Known Deaths among Union Officers — In- accuracy of the Rebel Returns of Deaths — General Mortality •of Union and Confederate Officers — Union Officers Killed by Guards — Interment of Union Officers 116 CHAPTER XVI. What was furnished to Rebel Prisoners — Clothing — Account of Treat- ment by a. Confederate Officer — Testimony of a Confederate Sur- geon — Circular Orders of the Commissary-General of Prison- ers 134 CHAPTER XVII. Chickamauga Battle — Hospilal— In the Enemy's Hands— The Wounded — Paroling Hospital Attendants— AVant of Water— Bandages and Medicines — The Field — Seven Days after the Battle — Arrival of United States Ambulances with Supplies for the Wounded — Parol- ing the Wounded 149 viii Contents. CHAPTER XVIir. March to Chickamauga Station — Tunnel Hill — Dalton — Kingston — Re- saca and Fortifications — Pies and Cakes — Marietta — Scenery^ Arrival at Atlanta — Trip to Augusta— .Savannah River — Branch- ville — Kingsville — Columbia — Charlotte — Kaleigh, via Salisbury and Greensboro— Goldsboro, Weldon, and Petersburg— Rich- mond 164 CHAPTER XIX. Smith Prison — Pemberton Prison — Scott Prison — Libby Prison — Prison Fare — Newspaper Gossip — Roll Call — Crowded State of the Prison — Insect Pests — Effects of Starvation — Debating Clubs — Exchange — Spoils — Small-pox — Removal to Danville 176 CHAPTER XX. Danville — Prisons Nos. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 — Writing Letters Home — Occupa- tion of Time — Small-pox — Receipt of Rations and Clothing by Flag of Truce — How Appropriated and Issued — Hospital— Express Boxes — Tunneling — Handicraft — Incidents — Newspaper Reports — Ex- change — Removal to Georgia 191 CHAPTER XXI. Andersonville Prison — Admitted — Appearance of the Prisoners and the Pen— The First Night— The Morning— Search for Water— Roll Call- Rations — Cooking Utensils — Wood and Axes — Belle Isle — Prisoners from Cahaba and Plymouth 219 CHAPTER XXII. Enlargement of the Stockade — The Camp at Daylight — Shelters— Cook- ing— Appearance of the Prisoners- Roll Call— Sick Call— Market— The Sutler— Smugglers— Manufacturers— Gamblers— Water— Forti- fying— "Raiders"— Six Men Hung — Police— Petitions — Writing Letters— Receiving Express Boxes— Incidents — A Storm and Break in the Stockade 238 Contents. ix CIIAITICU XXIII. Rations — Cook Houses — Escapes — Blood-hounds — Punishment — Stand- ing Stocks — Ball and Chain — Lying ]_>own Stocks— Iron Collars — Removal of Hospital— Sick Calls— Hospitals— The Dead— Burial- General Winder— Captain Wirz 270 CHAPTER XXIV. Atlanta Taken by Sherman — Order of General Winder for Exchange of 20,000 Prisoners — Escape of the Author with Two Comrades — Avoiding the Dogs — Encounter Hood's Scouts — Hair-breadth Es- capes — In the Midst of Hood's Army — Surrounded and Recapt- ured 307 CHAPTER XXV. Rebel Head-quarters — Opelika, Columbus, and Fort Valley — Plan of Escape Detected — Andersonville Again — Savannah — Special Ex- change of 10,000 Sick— Removed to Millen— The Prison Pen— Re- cruiting Among the Prisoners — Free 348 CHAPTER XXVI. Paroled — Rebel Truce Boats — On Board Ship — Homeward Bound — Northern Soil — Furloughed — Views of the Prisoners — Tables — Con- clusion 370 TREATMENT OF UNION PRISONERS OF WAR. General AccoUiN t 401 I. Treatment at time of Capture 408 II. Treatment on Arrival at Prison 410 HI. Location and Description of Prisons — Libby — Belle Isle — Danville— Salisbury— Florence— Cahaba— Camp Ford 413 IV. Food, Water, and Fuel 420 V. Knowledge Possessed by the Rebel Authoritfes 436 X Contents. VI. Ability of the Confederate Authorities to Relieve the Suffer- ings of the Prisoners 450 VII. Agents of the Rebel Government — J. A. Seddon — Robert Ould— J. H. Winder— W. S. Winder— Wirz— Gee— Bar- rett 459 VIII. Results of Imprisonment — Mortality — Disability of the Sur- vivors 470 PARTIAL LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 1. Evening at Andersonville Frontispiece. 2. Battle of Yellow Tavern (full page) 18 3. Castle Thunder 30 4. Libby Prison, front view 31 5. Libby Prison, side view 32 6. Libby Prison, interior view 35 7. Camp Oglethorpe, Macon, Ga. (full page) 44 8. Tunneling a't Macon 03 9. Charleston Jail and Work-house (i8 10. Camp Sorghum, Columbia, S. C. (full page) 74 11. Killing a Hog 75 12. Arrival of " Fresh Fish " 7<) 13. Shooting a Prisoner 83 14. Washing Clothes 100 15. Squelching a Fire Eater 110 1(). Johnson's Island (full page) 135 17. Bathing at Johnson's Island 137 18. Andersonville, view from main entrance (full });igu) 149 li). Snodgrass Hospital 152 20. Battle of Chickamauga (full page) 155 21. Leather Pies 167 22. Robbing prisoners 1 74 23. Smith and Pemberton Prisons 177 24. Meditating Escape 190 25. Turning Water into Soup 202 26. Birds-eye View of Andersonville (full page) 219 27. North-west View of Andersonville (full page) 228 28. Distributing Rations 229 29. Plymouth Prisoners 235 30. Diagram of Andersonville (folder) 238 31. Burrows at Andersonville 242 32. Going for A\'ater at Andersonville 245 33. South-cast View of Andersonville (full page) 247 34. Insane Prisoners 248 (xi) xii Partial List of Illustrations. 35. Smuggling 254 3G. South-west View of Andersonville (full page) 257 37. Raiders 259 38. South End View of Andersonville (full page) 270 39. Blood-hounds 274 40. Chain-gang 279 41. " Spread Eagle " 280 42. Shooting a Prisoner 298 43. Mode of Interment at Andersonville (full page) 302 44. Kicking a Prisoner to Death 305 45. A Strange Voice 317 40. Grapevine Bridge 333 47. Hanging by the Thumbs 359 48. Prison Pen at Millen, Ga. (full page) 362 49. Life or Death 368 50. Prison for Rebels at Elmira, N. Y. (full page) 379 51. Belle Isle (full page) 401 52. Pearl River Bridge 407 53. Robbing Prisoners 409 54. General John H. Winder 414 55. Salisbury, N. C. (full page) 420 56. Salisbury Hospital Interior 422 57. Camp Ford, Tex. (full page) 426 58. Florence, S. C. (full page) 442 EXPERIENCE IN REBEL PRISONS FOR UNITED STATES OFFICERS RICHMOND, MACON, SAVANNAH, CHARLESTON, AND COLUMBIA ASA B. ISHAM LATE FIRST LtELfTENANT CO. " F, SEVENTH MICHIGAN CAVALRY, FIRST BRIGADE, FIRST DIVISION, CAVALRY CORPS, ARMY OF THE FOTOMAC CHAPTER 1. Starting upon a Campaign — Marching into the Wilder- NEt^s — A Night Scene and March — Going into Battle — The Uses of Cavalry — Supporting a Battery — Panic in the Lead Horse Caravan — A Horn Blow- ing — Sleeping on the Field — Knowledge Respecting THE Wilderness. V HE Army of the Potomac never set out upon a campaign in lighter marching order than that of 1864, when it took up the march toward Richmond. For the cavalry arm of the service, one wagon to a regiment and two 'lead horses to each company constituted the trans- portation equipment. It was generally realized by the troops that their powers of endurance were likely to be tested as never before. Hence, every man put as little burden upon himself and horse as possible, carrying Tiothing that he could do without. If one had a prefer- ence for a blanket, he left behind his overcoat; or, if the overcoat was thought indispensable, the blanket was thrown out. Cooking utensils were commonly reduced to a pint tin cup and a half of a canteen, which latter served for a frying and stewing pan, with a stick split at one end for a handle. Yet some, who were likely to mourn for the " flesh pots of Egypt " in the Wilderness, clung fondly to a light skillet and a coffee pot. On the 4th of May, 1864, the camps around Culpepper Court-house were broken, and the columns were set in motion for the Rapidan. Quietly the march was con: ducted. Conversation was not indulged in to any great extent, every one being apparently occupied by his own reflections. The soil moved over had been the scene of many a fight, to which recollection recurred, and a fresh (3) Prisoners of War. encounter was momentarily looked for where the foe had been so often met. Bivouacking for the night at Stony Mountain, the march was resumed at 3 o'clock upon the morning of the 5th, crossing the Rapidan at Ely's ford. Upon reaching the high ground in the vicinity of Chan- cellorsville, we moved " On right, into line," to present sahers to General Grant and his staff, who rode by to liead-quarters' tents, pitched a short distance to the right, while a salute was fired by a section of artillery. It was evident to all that there was no immediate danger of an engagement, and a lighter feeling pervaded the ranks. Here a number of colored regiments were overtaken, the first ever seen by the Army of the Potomac. They had tents pitched, arms stacked, and were disporting them- selves in their bare feet. Their pedal extremities and the army brogan did not seem to be exactly natural aifinities. Their union pro- duced a most uncomfortable chafing of protuberances, so that, while the colored brother cherished his shoe leather and suflered the pains of martyrdom with it upon show occasions, he much preferred to carry it upon his back during the steady plodding of a campaign. To judge from expressions, these fellows meant business. "Wliar is de enemy; has you all saw him anywhar?" "We des want to kotch dem Johnny Rebs once; we make 'em hol- ler, suah." " Dey is done clean gone, and we can't find 'em." " Guess dey hyar we was a comin'. Yah ! yah ! yah !" " We're gwine fer to git 'em yit." " Why can't you all head 'em ofi' wiv your boss critters, and den we mash 'em all to pieces." A compliance with the last suggestion was promised, to their evident delight, and they were left in the rear. The poor fellows found the "Johnnj- Rebs " many times, often to their sorrow, before the campaign Prisoners of War. 5 ■was over ; find upon some occasions, too, they found that they turned up when they were not being hunted for. A' halt was made in the evening near the slope of the high plateau overlooking the Wilderness, not a great dis- tance in advance of General Grant's head-quarters. At 2 o'clock on the morning of the 6th, we were again in the saddle and pressing toward the front by way of the Fur- nace road. In the descent from the upper level, a scene long to be remembered was presented to the vision. Fires had been lighted up by the sides of the roads, which revealed by their glare long lines of cavalry, infantry, and artillery, filling up the tortuous ways in all directions, in wavy motion, like the undulations of some vast serpent. Then a blast furnace, with its accumulated stores of fuel, broke out in grand conflagration, illuminating a vast ex- tent of country by its lurid light. The black, impenetra- ble forest spread out in all directions, the central mass of flame, the winding streaks of fire diverging therefrom, and here and there disclosing moving, writhing, sinuous, slender, long-extended forms — all combined to impress upon the mind a preternatural idea of the spectacle, as though the demon of destruction was floundering and belching out tongues and volumes of flame in the murky depths below. Xow and then our advance guard would press too hastily upon the retiring rear guard of the enemy, when the far-off rattle of musketry and subdued shouts would be borne to the ear, and the undulations in the columns would become more marked. But soon we were threading the mazes of the Wilderness, circling about the hosts of rebellion, which the darkness and the woods shut out from sight. Lively fusilades of musketry, not far removed, halts in readiness for action, were of fre- quent occurrence ; but with these exceptions, this night's march was not dissimilar to other night marches through a forest growth. All such marches are attended with such mishaps as falling into "chug holes," stumbling over obstructions, getting caught in the snares of log bridges and rough pieces of corduroy, and running foul of over- hantriiig branches, with results usually more annoyini^ 6 Prisoners of War. than grave, though sometimes serious for horse or rider, or both. Tlie moral nature received a terrible wrrench, when from a half-sleeping, dreaming state, one is suddenly precipitated into a mud hole, hung upon a limb, or made to practice a grand balancing feat by a tumble over some obstacle in the way. While doubtless the cavalry con- tained many " souls made perfect," these accidents seemed only to befall the wholly unregenerate, if the expressions uttered upon such occasions may be taken in evidence. But such incidents banished sleepiness by the lively sallies interchanged between the ones who had " fallen into the pit" and his comrades, enlivened the spirits, and made re- freshing breaks — to all but the victim — in the monotony of the dull, plodding hours. Toward morning, 6th of May, a position was taken up at the intersection of the Brock pike and the Furnace road, upou the extreme left of the Union line of battle, joining on to the 2d (Hancock's) Corps. Morning had not long dawned, when the ball opened by the driving in of the pickets established upon the pike. The thunder of artillery and the continuous, vibrating roll of heavy musketry heard upon the right told that the infantry was already hard at work. Very soon all was activity along our own front. Passing out from the woods into an open, we were brought up " Front into line," in order to arrest the progress of a regiment which was falling back in great confusion before an onslaught of the enemy, the officers' efforts and shouts of " Rally ! Rally ! Halt 1" and " Right about, wheel !" being of no efl'ect. " Turn back, boys, and at 'em ;" " You have nothing to fear, for we're right here;" "You are charging your friends now, the enemy is in the other direction;" were some of the excla- mations which greeted them as they halted before our line. "Oh, you be blanked," responded the fugitives, as soon as they regained composure. " Our alignment was'nt right, and we just fell back to re-form, so as to get a o-ood swing at them." Re-form they did, in short order, too ■ and back they went, right gallantly, in splendid form, pushing the enemy before them. Prisoners of War. 7 The battle ground was a clearing over a surface slightly rolling, including an area of perhaps forty acres, and sur- rounded by woods upon all sides. On the Confederate side of the field were two batteries of light artillery, which were opposed by eight pieces of artillery upon our side. The action of that day, so far as it pertained to the 1st Cavalry Division (Torbert's) and the enemy in its front, consisted of an artillery duel, charges and countercharges of mounted cavalry across the held, and fighting dis- mounted in the woods. Evening found us masters of the field, the enemy, under Fitz Hugh Lee, having been forced to retire with heavy loss, leaving his dead and wounded and many prisoners in our hands. It is the popular idea that the cavalry is held in reserve until the supreme moment for action arrives, when it is hurled in compact, irresistible mass against the infantry battalions of the enemy, dashing them to atoms and decid- ing the contest. The fact is that the cavalry forms the guard and feelers for an army. In a forward movement, it pushes in advance ; on a retreat, covers the rear, resisting the enemy's advance ; in a general engagement, it is posted upon both flanks, to protect against flank movements and furnish information of the disposition of the opposing forces; while, when the army is at rest, it constitutes the outposts, always maintaining a hold upon the skirts of an enemy, so that there can be no decided activity upon the one part that is not immediately discovered by the other and a corresponding activity induced. Hence, from the character of its service, and the surface variations of the soil, its natural and artificial obstructions, the cavalry must nearly as often fight upon foot, like infantry, as upon horseback. A genuine cavalryman has no great fondness for dismounted fighting ; he feels that he has lost the half of himself when separated from his horse. Yet he would rather engage in battle in any capacity than to be placed mounted in support of a battery of artillery. There is every thing in action to uphold a soldier's courage. In mass movement he forgets his individuality. In the asso- ciation and excitement of active participation, the idea of 8 Prisoners of War. personal hazard does not occur to him. But behind a bat- tery, in plain sight of the enemy's guns, whose every flash he sees, lie soon begins to imagine himself the direct target for every shot. His consciousness of individuality be- comes intense. Tlie shrieking shells he can not resist dodging as they strike in front of the battery and rico- chet, seem only to have missed his head by the eighth part of an inch. He is sure that the next one will play sad havoc with his anatomy. He notes the casualties, and the blanched faces of the wounded, as they are borne to the rear past him, make him heart-sick. He reproaches himself for ever having been such an idiot as to think that the country was in need of his services. What good is he to the country, sitting up as a mark behind a battery of artillery! He holds it a criminal sacrifice of human life to hold men quiet and helpless under a destructive fire. He can see no danger to the battery, since the skirmishers and maneuvering forces are away out to the front of it. He thinks that he can best conserve his country's interests by taking himself to a place of safety, and he looks along the line to discover if his comrades are so occupied as not to miss his presence. They all appear to be speaking to him with their e^'es, " Stay where you are ! " He straight- ens up in his saddle, gives his horse a spur to wake him up, and assumes an appearance of unconcern. The skir- mish line is being crowded back, and inspired by the pos- sibility of being ordered to charge, he grasps his saber tighter, and his soul bounds up. Down go his spirits again. The skirmishers advance, and the rebel shots come thicker, angrier and uglier than before. He ob- serves the surgeons passing behind the advanced lines, within the range of bullets, ministering to the injured and sending them back. He envies them, for they are doing something, and even if they are exposed to danger, full employment in the line of duty destroys their conscious- ness of it. The men serving the guns of the battery — stripped to the buff, and black as coal from sweat and powder accretion — he would gladly change places with. Men and horses are stretched lifeless about the cannon Prisoners of War. and pieces are disabled, but the artillerymen, warmed up to their work, have no time to take thought of any thing else. Finally comes the relief. More regiments are sent dismounted into the woods upon either side ; mounted regiments in column of companies pass over the open ; the whole line, mounted and dismounted, moves in concert amid cheers and yells; the rattle of carbines and jiistols is like a Fourth of July jollification upon a grand scale, and the artillery discharges are so rapid as to produce an almost continuous roar, completely drowning the efforts of the bands. Then comes an almost painful stillness, followed, after an interval, by rousing cheers. The day is won ; the enemy is in retreat. An episode of the day was a panic in the lead-horse caravan, which had been left upon the side of the road in our rear. When the cannon balls and shells began to crash through the woods in great abundance, the contra- bands and skulkers, who were interested in the welfare of the lead-horses, deemed it incumbent upon themselves to get these beasts of burden into safer quarters. They were led off by one named Malachi, but more familiarly known as " Bones," a sad-eyed contraband, whose bullet-head, not much larger than a pint measure, was sur- mounted by a coon-skin covering of rare design. He was mounted, with- out saddle or bridle, upon a lame animal which went upon three legs, and he steered him by means of a hickory club carried in his good right hand. They were just getting started when a shell went screaming through the tree-tops right over the cavalcade, and sending down upon it a shower of small twigs. " Bones " uttered u wild " Ki, yi ! " turned his eyes toward heaven so that only the whites were visible, belabored his 10 Prisoners of War. poor beast into a run, and, with the rest of the proces- sion in close pursuit, struck out for the rear of Hancock's corps. This was but rushing from " the frying pan into the lire," and they soon turned back, more terror stricken than before, in a mad gallop, to their previous location, only to fly oft" again at the sound of shrieking missiles. An oflicer, sent back to look after them, found them rush- ing pell-mell back and forth at the top of their speed. So wild with aff"right were they that he could exercise no control over them, until, giving chase, he unhorsed " Bones " by the liV)eral application of the flat of a saber about that worthy's head and shoulders. The leader being thus dethroned, order was easily restored and a refuge found for them beyond the line of fire. In obedience to orders, we moved back to the Furnace to camp that night, reaching there some time after dark. Here all the buglers in the command were sent out into the woods to all points of the compass, and, in sweet dis- concert they blew, and repeated, over and over again, all the calls in the regulations, except the one for quinine. They bugled for at least an liour, and if their wind held out they may have blown all night for all that the de- ponent knoweth to the contrary. Tired soldiers do not lose any sleep on account of a little serenade like that. This musical demonstration was for the sole benefit of the rebels, in order to deceive as to the force, location, and movements of the cavalry, but had it been made more ex- clusive by surrounding Lee's army with the buglers, the impression would have been more decided, and the results might, perhaps, have been as astonishing as those follow- ing a horn blowing performance once upon a time at ancient Jericho. Daylight on the 7th of May found us back again in the position of the day before. Early in the forenoon, in a short but severe engagement out on the Brock pike, the 1st Michigan Cavalry drove back the enemy toward Todd's Tavern, which was soon after occupied by the 2d Division under General Gregg. The remainder of the day was whilod away in light skirmishing, and excursions to Prisoners of War. 11 unknown points on the infantry lines, where we were formed in readiness for action at the edges of (jpen spaces. The infantry, however, proved capable of holding its own; no call was made upon us for assistance, and we went back to our own particular battle possession. Here we remained mounted, in line of battle, until after dark, be- fore orders were given to dismount and bivouac. The stench from decomposing horses, thickly strewn over the field, was almost stifling. It seemed nearly strong enough to arrest the course of bullets which were flying about promiscuouslj' in the darkness, since the enemy had again appeared on our front, and a lively interchange of leaden compliments was in progress between the picket lines, but a short distance removed. There was no hunting about for a choice spot upon which to rest, but each one nestled closely into the lap of Mother Earth wherever he was, however much he might entertain views of more desirable positions. Neither were noses turned up at dead animals when thej' could be felt within arms reach. In fact, a snug berth under the lee of a dead horse giving ofl' the odors of putrefaction is not to be despised when wild picket firing at short range is indulged in upon a dark night. Those who found in the morning that they had slept upon the entrails of disemboweled steeds derived satisfaction from the fact that they had enjoyed softer beds fhan their companions. Daylight of the morning of the 8th brought the revelation that the enemy had stolen away in the night. We then moved over to Todd's Tavern. On our way we were compelled to shoot some riderless horses, wounded in the legs, since they had no notion of being deserted, but persisted in crowding into places in the ranks and en- deavoring to keep up with the column. The neighings of the poor beasts as they were dropped by the roadside were almost human in their plaintiveness. From Todd's Tavern we marched to Silver, on the Fredericksburg plank-road, where the entire cavalry corps was massed and where we spent the night. Thus was our service in the Wilderness concluded. 12 Prisoners of War. Xothing could be seen beyond the little open stretch be- fore us, and for a knowledge of what had transpired about us, we had been dependent entirely upon the sense of hearing. We judged by the sounds of conflict which we had heard that a great battle had been fought, but Ave knew no more respecting the result than the man in the moon. As there Avas no enemy to molest us, Ave took it that he had been worsted. "We had but vague ideas con- cerning the topography of the country about us and our relative position to the rest of the forces. The Furnace was the central point to our minds. We knew that the road to our rear led back there, but that Avas about all we did knoAV Avith certainty, since our marches Avere nearly all made at night. We had glimpses of bits of road filled up Avith infantry columns, or AAnth ambulances for the Avounded, of Avoods choked up with underbrush and fallen timber, and of openings covered with a growth of scrub- bushes, and it was the predominating idea in the line that the enemy Avas CA^ery-where in position at the farther side of such clearings. Prisoners of War. 13 CHAPTER II. Ox A Raid to Richmond — Malcoxtents — The Delights OF A Cavalry March — Releasixg Captives — Capture of Beaver Dam Station — General Sheridan — Battle of Yellow Taverx. N the morning of the 9th of May, the cav- alry corps started on a raid to Richmond, around the left flank of Lee's army, the 1st Brigade of the 1st Division having the advance. In moving oft", we passed through the Provisional 9th Corps, which was a motley aggrega- tion, consisting of heavy artillery regiments, taken from the forts around Washington, Baltimore, and Fortress Monroe, and pressed into service as infantry, dismounted cavalry regiments, negro troops, and the odds and ends of service. All except the colored troops were growling and grum- bling, declaring that they had never enlisted for any such service, and that they would not fight. Whenever they caught sight of a general officer they set up the cry of: '' Hard tack ! Hard tack ! Rations !" The soldiers in the cavalry columns riding h}' " chaffed " them unmercifully. " You can't eat hard tack," they said. " You ought to have soft bread and butter, terrapin soup, and custard." " You will take terrible colds without your feather-beds." " What prospects for a corn crop ?" " Won't fight, eh ?" " You do not need to fight; you are only for those darkies back there to pile up for breast-works." There was a new regi- ment, which had never been mounted, called the 1st New Jersey Hussars. The seams and edges of their jack- ets were trimmed with yellow lace, wliile the breast was ornamented with parallel stripes of the same ma- terial running crosswise about one inch apart, with loops at the sides and centers surrounding brass but- 14 Prisoners of War. tons ; hence they received the name of " butterflies." "Hello, butterflies!" was the salutation, "you have got 'em bad." " There is nothing like good foot exercise for the yallers." " If it would not chafe your tender skins too bad we would like to have you light up behind us and learn what hardship it is to be compelled to ride." " Don't want to make you fight as infantry; that's not the idea. You have only to keep the crows and buz- zards scared away from the lazy heavy artillery until the ' rebs ' get a chance to take their toll out of them." It is but fair to record that the retorts were as numerous and pungent as the direct thrusts. " Is it sucking eggs that makes your voice so clear ?" "Are you starting out to gather the jjoultry crop ?" " Get on with you, rift-raft"; your stealing does the Confederacy more damage than your fighting." " You talk as easy as you run." " Do the buzzards distress you ? We'll bait the buzzards with you if you attempt to run over us in your fright when the ■ Johnnies ' chase you back," etc. This running fire of badinage was only of short duration, for we were pass- ing along at the trot, and soon parted company with the malcontents. There is nothing particularly delightful or exciting in thumping along at a trot in a cavalry column. The clouds of dust sent up by thousands of hoof-beats fill eyes, nose, and air-passages, give external surfaces a uniform dirty gray color, and form such an impenetrable veil that for many minutes together you can not see even your hand before you. Apparently just at the point of impending sufibcation a gentle sigh of wind makes a rift, and a free breath is inspired. Dust and horsehairs penetrate every-where, working under the clothing to the skin, and fixed by the sweat, the sensation is as though one was covered by a creeping mass of minute insects. Accumulations occur in the pockets, the rations come in for their full share, and with the bacon, particularly, so thoroughly do dirt and horse-hairs become incorporated, that no process of cleansing can remove them. But there is no better appetizer than horseback jolting, and little Prisoners of War. 15 eqeamiehness with genuiue hunger. A hunk of dirty raw bacon, with " hard tack," on a campaign, are par- taken of with keener relisli and enjoyment than " a good square meal " wlien engaged in less arduous duty. Shortly after crossing the North Anna river, a train of the enemy's ambulances was overhauled. In this capture was included a paymaster, with a large quan- tity of Confederate money. This commodity was free to all troopers who wanted it, but was valued so little that most of it was burned with the wagon which contained it. Some had afterward cause to regret that they had not burdened themselves with a few thousands of this rubbish. Flankers were thrown out on either side of the column, and pushing along rapidily we soon overtook and liberated about four hundred of our infantry who had been captured in the Wilderness, and were on the way to Richmond as prisoners of war. The greater part of the Confederate escort was also secured. Among the captives thus rescued were many officers, from the rank of colonel down. Their joy at their release was unbounded. They exalted the cavalry above an 3- other arm of the serv- ice. But we paused not to receive their adulations. The column hurried forward to Beaver Dam Station, where, striking the Virginia Central Railroad, three trains of cars, two locomotives, and some prisoners, fell into our hands. Several hundred stand of arms, and supplies for Lee's army to the value of several millions of dollars, were included in the spoils. What the troops could dispose of was distributed among them, and the balance, together with the station and cars, burned. The railroad was torn up in both directions from the station, and we bivouacked for the night in the immediate vicinity. Sev- eral times during the night attacks Avere made upon us, but they were met in such a manner as to discourage a long continuance. Early the morning of the lOth, we were on the move again, with Hankers out upon both sides. Tiie country passed over was for the most part well culti- vated, ditched, and fenced. The fields and houses had 16 Prisoners of War. apparently thus far escaped the ravages of war. The flank- ers had instructions to take from the places along the route sucli grain and provisions as thej- might chance upon which were needed for subsistence, but to commit no depre- dations. How they " chanced " upon stores which even the proprietors assumed to know nothing about is a mys- tery which one may not understand, even though he had cliarge of the flankers on the right of one brigade. It is astonishing what a wide latitude the needs of human sub- sistence extend over. The camp-fires that night, just be- yond the South Anna river, revealed that they compre- hended, at least, biscuit, corn-bread, ham, mutton, various kinds of poultry, butter, honey, preserves, and dried fruits. About daj'light upon the morning of the 11th, in hot haste, we deployed dismounted as skirmishers into the Avoods on our left to repel an attack. The enemy, how- ever, seemed to be satisfied upon finding where we were, and drew oflF after firing a few shots. The onward march was then resumed in a leisurely manner along the Vir- ginia Central Railroad, which had been torn up by the 2d Division (Gregg's), which now had the advance. It was a lovely day, the air was mild, the country charm- ing, and wc thought it was a holiday time we were havino- as we rode easily along, the most common topic of dis- course being General Phil. Sheridan, who had been as- signed to tlie command of the cavalry corps but only a short time previous to its starting out upon the campaign. It was the unanimous opinion that he had at least demon- strated one thing — that he knew how to march a cavalry force without exhausting it. He had already Avon the hearts of the command by his simple, eas^^ unostentatious demeanor. His special fitness above all others to be a cav- alry leader was not at that time known, but Ave Avere nearing the field Avhere Avas first established his title to the designation of " Cavahy "' Sheridan. The head of the column had reached the junction of the Telegraph road with the Brock pike, near Yellow Tavern, Avhen a rapid and well-directed fire Avas opened up by a rebel Prisoners of War. 17 battery posted on a hill to the left. General J. E. B. Stuart, with his Confederate Cavalry Corps, had thrown down the gage of battle, and it was promptly taken up. He was upon his chosen ground, well sheltered, with every advantage of position. In the action which followed, our whole corps was engaged, and everj' point within ourJines was under fire. Here again, even more than in the Wilderness, we were fighting an unseen enemy. We could hear and feel, but but not see him. The rebel line was stretched from the pike, along a range of hills skirted by woods, circling around and crossing the Telegraph road. The pike and railroad along which we had been moving ran over nearly level or only slightly rolling ground, and but for a scrubby growth of bushes to the left of the railroad, which afforded some concealment, was entirely open to the ene- my's view. Our line was formed with the 2d Division (Gregg's) upon the right, the 1st Division (Torbert's) in the center, and the 3d Division (Wilson's) upon the left. Skir- mishers were thrown out, followed by lines of mounted and dismounted men, who pushed across to the woods and secured a lodgment. From the offensive the foe was com- pelled to assume the defensive. No time was given him to arrange his squadrons for assault. It was an enlivening spectacle to behold in all directions over the field regi- ments or brigades upon the trot or gallop in columns of fours, companies, squadrons, or battalions, with bat- teries galloping into position, and here and there reserves drawn up in line, as straight and motionless as stone walls. All this was observed while the 1st Brigade of the 1st Division was moving up under a brisk artillery fire to engage in close combat. Passing by a long line of Con- federate prisoners and over ground strewn with the wrecks of battery wagons, dead men, and horses, evidencing hot and effective work on the part of the 2d (Merrit's) and 3d (Devin's) Brigades, we struck the cover of the woods. Into these the 5th and 6th Michigan Regiments were sent dismounted, the 7th was formed in line of battle facing 2 18 Prisoners of War. the woods, while the 1st Regiment was formed in columns of squadrons fronting to the right. This latter was a full regiment of one thousand men, having recently veteran- ized and returned with ranks filled. The woods formed a reversed rj, behind the lower short arm of which the two regiments were sheltered. At the upper end of the fj, upon high ground, at the edge of the timber, was a Confederate battery of artillery which had got the range of our position and was sending in its shots with most annoying accuracy. Placing himself at the head of the 1st Michigan, General Custer led it in a charge against the battery. As the squadron wheeled to the left around the angle of the woods at the gallop, they preserved their alignment perfect, and with lusty cheers launched out upon the charge over a surface broken by ravines, but open to the clean sweep of the enemy's guns. Fiercely roared the battery, never were pieces served with more celerity. Solid shot and shells, grape, and canister, tore through the ranks, making gaps, but the column never paused or faltered for an instant. The cheers swell into a shout of triumph. The rebel guns are lim- bered up, and away they go on the run, but two are overtaken and captured, together with two limbers filled with ammunition, and many prisoners. "What, however, was of more importance, was the fact that this brilliantly executed movement had secured an eminence commanding the rebel position, and practically settled the issue of the battle. Its success would hardly have been possible had it not been for the vigorous attacks of the 5th and 6th Michigan dismounted in the woods, the 1st and 2d Brigades, and the rest of the troops all along the line, giving the enemy full employment, and prevent- ing him from instituting a counter movement to render nugatory the effect of the charge. And herein was first manifested the special military genius of G-eneral Sheridan, which was, having his forces well in hand to strike the foe " tooth and nail," " horse, foot, and dragoons," put him on the defensive, force him back, and when once started o a P^ -'/ 'i'i W^ '^^v^ I r ^s -• ^ t Prisoners of War. 19 keeping him going, hitting him blow upon blow as long as within reach. The 7th Michigan, in column of fours, upon the trot, followed in the wake of the 1st Regiment. As the former regiment passed along, a house situated about a hundred yards to its right burst into flames, ignited by the enemy's shells. The occupants, consisting of women and children, who had probably been in hiding in the cellar for security, rushed out in a state of the most frenzied terror. Their frantic cries and actions were most pitiable. They were, indeed, brought to a full realization of the horrors of war. A wall of fire was behind them, a trampling mass of cav- alry in front, while deadly missiles were fljnng all around. Some compassionate souls galloped out from the column and shouted to them that a ravine near by afforded the most secure retreat, but this was all in the way of succor the exigencies of the occasion permitted. They were probably too crazed to heed the kindly suggestions offered. They were lost to view in the onward move- ment, but they hold a place in memory as one of the most striking features of that day's memorable engagement. 20 Prisoners of War. CHAPTER III. Battle of Yellow Tavern Coxcluded — The Charge and Capture — General J. E. B. Stuart Mortally Wounded — A Pure Philanthropist — On the March TOWARD Richmond — Lieutenant Hill's Mare. EXEEAL CUSTER was upon the summit of the hill from which he had dislodged the Con- federate battery, his graceful figure erect in the saddle and his face flashing with the glow imparted by participation in the successful charge, but just concluded. With outstretched arm he pointed with his saber toward a road at the base of the hill, and said: " Major Granger, charge that road with your 7th Michi- gan." Instantly rang out the major's command: ^'^ Front rank, sabers ! Rear rank, pistols ! Fours forvard, trot, march! GALLOP!! CHARGE!!!" Down the hill, across the brook, and up the road, into the woods, like a thunderbolt went the column. Almost continuous dis- charges were blazed out from the enemj-'s carbines, smoke and dust enveloped all in a cloud, and horses and riders were blended. A barricade and obstructions in the road were lightly leaped, and the enemy behind them sent scurrying back in the hottest haste. Into the fugitives crowd the pursuers, and the dull thuds of sabers descend- ing upon hapless heads could be heard amid the rattle of carbines and cracking of pistols. But, just as the head of the column was well over the barricade, the junior major, from the rear, shouted an order to "Bight about, wheel," which order was heard and obe^'ed by all but about twenty- five (25) men who followed in the lead of the senior major commanding. Back went the regiment while the squad in the front kept right on in its career. Now the clatter of hoofs, the clangor of slung carbines, empty scabbards Prisoners of War. 21 and mess utensils, the shouts, oaths, and imprecations of the rushing horsemen have grown faint. The carbines no longer speak in volleys, but singly, at intervals, and the crack of the pistol has ceased to be lively. The gallant Granger, as well as many another brave man, has fallen and will ride no more to battle, while the survivors of the squad have been engulfed, swallowed up in the Con- federate cavalry of the army of Northern Virginia. Here and there one may be seen subject to the hostile demon- strations of numbers of opponents. Surrounded and hedged in, isolated from each other, all hope of escape cut oif, submission was made by each one singly to peremptory demands of surrender, only, in several instances, to be shot down or cut down by new comers constantly arriving upon the scene. Back along the route of the charge lay strewn, promiscuously, dead and wounded Federals and Confederates — the latter preponderating. Plunderers were already busy among the former. What, however, is entitled to the greatest prominence in connection with the spirited dash under description was the ftill of General J. E. B. Stuart, the Confederate chief of cavalry, mortally wounded. The particulars concerning it will be presently narrated. A large burly officer, heavily bearded and swarthy, whose position, as subsequently ascertained, was that of a lieutenant on the stafi" of General Stuart, made demon- strations with an old-fashioned self-cocking "Allen " re- volver directly at the head of one who yet lives to record it. Although the latter had long been imbued with the impression that this instrument of death was far more dangerous at the breech than at the muzzle, he did not neglect to make an obeisance with every one of the sev- eral times it was snapped at him. When, however, by counting the " clicks," the evidence was unmistakable that no load was contained in it, there seemed to be no further incentive to such kind of exercise, and, in order to arrest the automatic action upon the trigger, the inquiry was ventured as to whether or not the " Colonel " carried any tobacco upon his person. In an abstracted, dumb- 22 Prisoners of War. founded sort of way the weapon, risky at both ends, was returned to its holster and a whole plug of prime Lynch- burg was drawn forth from an inner pocket. When asked if he had any objections to parting with the half of it, the ofhcer generously said, " Help yourself, sir." He then grew confidential. He remarked that the provost guard and d— the -est prison thieves authorities in and robbers in grown Richmond were " the the world, who had rich by plundering prisoners." Therefore, if any thing valuable was possessed — money, watches, or jewelry — it had better be turned over to him for safe-keeping, as he was going up to Richmond in a week or two, when he would restore it in person. The rectitude of his intentions was not questioned in the least, but while he talked the pocket-book, with what money it contained, was being crammed through a break in the pocket to a position between the drawers and the skin. With a smile, which " was childlike and bland," he was assured that nothing was possessed worth taking. " Now, don't be guilty of any falsehood," said this honest man, " for 1 only volunteer to take it to save it for you and to keep it out of the hands of those devilish sharks." He felt of the different pockets with his hands, and insisted tliat all their contents should be shown him so that he could judge whether or not there was any thing likely to gratify the cupiditj^ of unprincipled men. A showing of the pockets not revealing any treasures, his eye rested upon the haversack, which he gallantly detached from the person, remarking: " They will take this sure, and so I will save it for you and bring it in to you when I come up to Richmond, if I live to get there." How he was yearned for in Richmond, yet never came, and was mourned for as one dead. That haversack contained, was all the cheer we had, and for the third night we laid ourselves down supperless to sleep. The booming of General V>. F. Butler's guns, down at Fort Darling, could be plainly heard, which, together with t ,.. '>^ ^ Hm -^^^^^ c^?^»> Y.' \- rf ■ I ■■ ■■■■■ ■■ _^ * ^ ■• ''4 Castle Thunder. reports of his steady progress, communicated by tlie sa- gacious contrabands, kept us on the qui vioe., and served as meat and drink. But the comfort from this source was of short duration, for one evening Beauregard sent in nearly all the officers of a Massachusetts regiment, with others from Butler's command, to be " bottled up " in Libby. The military situation then interested us no more ; belts were tightened over receding abdomens, and our serious Frisoners of War. 31 and uudivided attention was bestowed upon the prison ration. The daily ration, per man, consisted of a piece of corn bread two inches tliick by two and one-half inches square, simply mixed with water, without salt, and baked ; bean soup, which was made up of brown beans, black bugs, and long brown worms, in about equal proportions, suspended in a liquor having the color and much of the flavor of tan-vat water. Once in five or six days just a taste of maggoty bacon was issued, and in lieu of corn bread we sometimes received a proportionate quantity of corn meal, with a very little rice. The pangs of hunger were not sufficient ^.^^/^^\L^:s t r- =W '"jv [:^ iii^c.^^)^ 'I LiBBY Prison — Fkont View. to introduce the soup into the favor of palates which yet retained the smack of the choicest old Virginia hams, chickens, and honey. It was partaken of so sparingly that it was withdrawn. This ration was cut down one- half after the first week. Thus we were restricted to corn bread with so slight a taste of bacon, that, rancid and lively as it was, it was a matter of discussion whether it were real or imaginary. This regimen affected first the mental state, as mani- fested during sleep, in dreams. The period of repose sup- plied a continual phantasm of excursions in quest of food, or of gorgeous banquets, at which the sleeper never failed 32 Prisoners of War. to become surfeited. Then, during the waking hours, su- pervened restlessness ; an almost unceasing walking up and df)wn, searching with the e^'es every inch of the walls, ceiling, and floor, although it was perfectly apparent that plain brick walls and floors, and open, unplastercd joists, which had been thoroughly explored numberless times be- fore, could not change their appearance ; could show no hiding place or secret passage, could aftbrd no succor, com- fort, or any hope of escape. But this aimless moving — seeking — was not to be resisted. &i5n. i*'^^. f^^fT^ ^s • -* **' ^-' p LiBBY Prison — Side View. The moral sense suffered notable perversion. The pris- oners possessed as high and true an estimate of honor and propriety as any like number of men gathered from any walk in life. The blunting of moral principle was exhibited by a disposition to purloin any thing which might minister to the demands of hunger either directly or by purchase. The bacon rind which, by unanimous consent, was reserved to grease the skillet for frying cakes, Prisoners of War. 33 and which, by use, became begrimed and charred, was regularly stolen. Its preservation necessitated the appoint- ment of special guardians, who had daily to give proof of their fidelity to their exalted trust. Any little article which might be sold to the guards for Confederate money was very sure to be appropriated by those having no right- ful ownership. Many, indeed, were guiltless of these ir- regularities ; but, perhaps, suitable chances for indulgence were not afforded them. The fact, however, that possible opportunities would find inward justification by reasons of special personal application out-weighing the appar- ently fair-considered needs of others, in a certain degree, favors what has hcen afiirmed by some evolutionists, that the moral attributes of man, the development of a higher cerebral organization, sink to the hrute level when the in- dividual is placed in a state of abject privation. The gen- eral observations contained in this paragraph pertain to our prison life at other places as well as Libby. As we became thinner under the consumption of adipose tissues, the angularities and protuberances of the bony skeleton grew into prominence. This interfered with rest on account of the difiiculty of comfortably adapting the inequalities of a lean human body to the plane of a hard, level floor. An almost continued shifting of position told that it was impossible to equalize pressure long in any situation suitable to wholesome slumber. Soreness and aching took hold on the more salient osseous projections all over the frame. The physical strength rapidly declined and the gentle exercise of walking about the room sensi- bly increased the respiration and the heart's action. The prisoners in the dark cell were Lieutenant-Colonel A. C. Litchfield and Captain John A. Clark, of the 7th Michigan Cavalry; Major E. F. Cooke and Surgeon King- ston, of the 2d New York Cavalry ; Lieutenant R. Bartley, of the U. S. Signal Coi'ps; Captain T. Thornton, of the 5th U. S. Volunteer Cavalry (colored) ; Lieutenant R. Titus, 3d U. S. Colored Troops ; and Lieutenants Brown and Coleman, of the 5th U. S. Colored Troops ; together 3 34 Prisoners of War. with four negro soldiers. The cell they occupied was upon the ground floor, and it was about twelve feet square. The windows were boarded up, and the only light they had was such little rays as stole in through the crevices between the boards. An open tub was placed in the room for the reception of their excrement, where it was permit- ted to remain for days before removal, making the atmos- phere of the place most noisome. Communication was had with them through the floor above, by the removal of a section of flooring board. News, and such creature comforts as the other prisoners could furnish, were trans- naitted to them through the hole which appeared when the board was raised. The authorities suspected that there was some connection between us, and they often made search for the passage. But we always managed to be standing over the board, or succeeded in diverting their attention from it, so that it was never discovered. One morning, the guard came in while the board was up and a conversation was proceeding through the opening. The board was quickly replaced, a blanket jerked over it in a careless way, and when the guard reached the spot, the ofiicer was innocently en- gaged in hunting the blan- ket for graybacks. In this miserable den, they were kept for four and one-half months — the cavalry ofliccrs because they had partici- pated in Kilpatrick's raid, the ofl[icers of the colored troops because they were such, and the negroes simply to discommode and annoy the rest. They were not allowed to receive any letters or any thing else, or to send any thing out. No plates, knives, forks, or spoons were supplied to them, and when the scanty, fllthy ration was brought in, they were formed in line an oflicer and a negro alternately, and compelled to eat in the presence of the guard in the best way they Prisoners of War. 35: could. They all became sick, but it made no difference in the established order of treatment. They were left to their own unaided powers of recovery or to die — no sick privileges for them. Toward the latter part of July, they were sent to join us at Macon, and thereafter they re- ceived the same treatment as the other prisoners. The outlook from Libby was not very extensive. At the rear, we could see the James river and the canal, with a gunboat in it. Opposite the front of the building were some vacant lots, which permitted a view of a street sev- Interior of Libby Prison. eral squares away, which was located upon high ground, and appeared from its direction to run down to the James river. Over this street passed from the south one bright May day, a reinforcement of about ten thousand men- — ■ infantry and artillery — for Lee's army. They awakened great enthusiasm in the populace of Richmond, who lined the thoroughfare, greeting them with cheer upon cheer. The ladies supplied flowers in profusion, with which the muskets and cannon were gaily decorated. They had the bearing of veteran troops, and well did they deserve the warmest reception the citizens of the Confed- erate capital could give, for never was there greater need 36 Prisoners of War. for tliem. It was an exhibition of life we were not alto- gether displeased to behold, for it was interpreted as an indication of warm work at the front, and of a depletion in the rebel ranks necessary to be filled. The windows and doors of Libby were guarded with vertical bars of iron fixed to the frames. There was little danger of the prisoners tampering with them, for there was little pros- pect of escape in that direction. Yet we were not al- lowed to approach close to them in front, for whenever a guard upon the outside- could view a prisoner, he threat- ened him with his musket. One day, Captain Vaughn, of the 1st Maine Cavalry, who was standing a few feet from the front door on the second floor looking out upon the street, unconscious of danger, was fired upon; but luckily the ball imbedded itself in the ceiling above, without harminsr him. Prisoners of War. 37 CHAPTER V. En Route to Macon, Georgia — Cruelties to Enlisted Men — A Brutal Officer of the Guard — Colic — Con- federate Economy — JSTativb Curiosity — Arrival at Macon — The Prison Camp — Rations and Barter — Calling the Hours. APRIL Y, our stay in Libby was only of eight- een days' duration, for, on the 31st of May, we were set in motion for Macon, Georgia. The inmates of the dark cell were left behind, and also one officer of our party, who was sick. With this exception, we were in fair physical health, though of course very weak and " badly demoral- ized." Seven hundred enlisted men, bound for Anderson- ville, accompanied us in the train. Many of them were extremely feeble from sickness and wounds, so that they could scarcely creep along. Yet their pitiable state did not call from the guards any manifestation of mercy. If, from inability to keep up, one fell out of the line when we changed cars, he received blows from muskets or bayonet stabs until he was totally disabled, or his comrades took him up and carried him along. Several of them were shot for getting out of the ears to attend to the calls of nature. They were crowded into the cars closer than hogs are packed for railwaj'' transportation in the Xorth. The inside guards were so discommoded by the crowding that at Salisbury' they joined with the prisoners in urging that some be permitted to ride on top. Accordingly, liberty was given to six or eight in each car to climb on top. Just as the train started, an enfeebled man was standing on the bumpers between two cars, doing his best to make his way up. The officer in charge, Lieuteiymt Gay, of the 3d Virginia Militia, saw him, and ordered a guard to 38 Prisoners of War. shoot him, which he promptly did, the lifeleRs body roll- ing from off the train. This creature, Gay, was devoid of all human feeling. He was a coward by nature, else he would have been in the field before Richmond, where individuals of de- structive tendencies were in demand. At Salisbury, Col- onel White, of the 55th Pennsylvania Infantry, with a number of other prisoners, was outside of the car, en- gaged in a conversation with a citizen. A young guard came up, roughly laid hands on the colonel's j^erson, and, in language profane, obscene, and abusive, ordered him into the car. An offi- cer in the car remarked to his companions, without in- tending it to be overheard, that it was a specimen of brutality^ one would not anticipate from a youth. But it reached his ear, and, facing about, he cocked his gun and pointed it into the car. Hereupon, Captain Carpenter, of the 6th Pennsylvania Cavalry, from Philadelphia, who was sitting upon the top of the car Avith his legs hanging over the side, said : " Please put down your gun." The guard immediately let down the hammer, and began beat- ing the captain's legs with the barrel. The legs were drawn up out of reacli, and it was supposed that, the spleen having thus found vent, the disturbance was ended. Before there Avas the slightest suspicion of what the young ruffian intended to do, he was on the top of the car with clubbed musket, beating the officer over the head, and saying that he would "learn the d d Yankee s o — ■ b " that he could not insult him. The exploit attracted Lieutenant Gay, wlio inquired of the as- saulting guard what was the matter. He replied that " the d d Yankee " had insulted him. Another guard immediately ventured the statement that he saw and heard it all, and could certify that neither Captain Car- Prisoners of War. 39 penter nor the others had committed the least breach of propriety or infrattion of rules. Gay angrily ordered him to shut his mouth. He had not been asked for in- formation, and he knew nothing about it. He commended the outrage of the youth, and loudly ordered the guards to " Take nothing from the d d Yankees. Shoot them at a word." Captain Carpenter was badly injured. He was rendered unconscious, and he sufl'ered with his head during the whole term of his imprisonment. Several citizens, who witnessed the whole transaction, were highly indignant. They assured us privately that the treatment of prisoners was exciting comment and creating them friends who would some day be heard from. In the course of the journey to Macon we were once or twice served with a bountiful supply of " hard tack " and bacon. In passing through ISTorth Carolina, we procured some onions, hard-boiled eggs, dried-apples, and biscuits, which were about as hard and tough as bullets. Upon crossing the state line into South Carolina, the most of us managed to obtain from a guard a drink of that liquid lightning known as North Carolina apple-jack. Such leaven introduced into stomachs previously empty did not fail of an effect. Between Columbia and Branchville, we found our abdominal walls leavened up into the semblance of bass-drums. It was night, and sixty-one prisoners, with four guards at the door, were crowded into one box-car. We had no light, and were literally " spooned in," sitting between each other's legs in rows across the car. The only ventilation was a door upon one side, which was only opened about two feet. Such another cargo w^as never transported on any railroad before or since — a whole car- load of colic ; enough, if properly distributed, to supply the entire population of the counti-y with a iirst class article. Ho, teamsters of the army, aud bullwhackers of the plains ! there are expletives never " dreamed of in your philosophy." But the line must be drawn somewhere, and it will be drawn right here. The events of that night may be imagined, they are not to be described. The colonel of a Massachusetts regiment" finally discov- 40 Prisoners of War. ered a lump of opium amongst his effects. This was passed around in the darkness, and each one in his agony bit off what he thought he could chew. Then we settled back to sleep, " perchance to dream." An illustration of the economy which was practiced in the Confederacy was furnished by this trip. Between Danville and Charlotte, a halt was made to procure wa- ter for the engine. A request was made that we be allowed to have the half of a broken railroad tie, which was lying upon the side of the road, for a seat. The guard replied that the government could not spare it, that they would need it in a few days to repair the road. And he was perfectly honest in his answer. This is only an example of the appreciation they had of their poverty in resources. Every-where, at the front and through the South, was the same scrupulous care for things which, Avith us, were considered of no account. With them even an old scrap of leather or piece of iron was picked up and treasured for some want it might serve to meet in the future. At a little station near the Georgia line, where we stop- ped a short time, a number of the natives gathered around to see the " Yan- kees." When it was learn- ed that there was a brig- adier-general on board, in the person of General Heck- man, calls were made for him. The general was con- siderably surprised when the guard requested him to step to the door, but, thinking there was some one outside who might have known him " befo' the wah," he com- plied. Imagine his chagrin to find that he had simply been called upon to exhibit himself as a curiosity. The remarks, however, were not uncomplimentary. They only showed that the common people of South Carolina had formed very erroneous ideas of Northern soldiers. They Prisoners of War. 41 expressed their disappointment that he did not appear with horns, or thick lips, or woolly hair. He looked very much like their own men, they thought, and if they had not known that he was a Union officer they would have esteemed him as decent an appearing white man as they most ever saw. But the inevitahle question was here again propounded, only in a little different form : " "Win- do you wage war upon us ? If you get all our worthless niggers what good will they do you ?" As they were not Confederate commissioners, we did not enter upon an ex- position of the issues involved in the contest. We reached Macon the 6th or 7th of June, and were joined to the rest of our officers who were prisoners of war at Camp Oglethorpe. Altogether we numbered about twelve hundred but the number was increased to four- teen hundred during our stay at Macon. The prison grounds were square, and included an area of nearly three acres, inclosed by a tight board fence about twelve feet high, fifteen feet inside of which was a picket fence, six feet high, constituting what was known as the " dead line." This we were not allowed to approach nearer than six feet. Upon the outside of the high board fence, passing all around, was a platform, about three feet below the top of the boards, upon which the guards patrolled back and forth. A small stream passed through one corner of the grounds and a little below where it entered the inclosure, supplied springs of good potable water. Below the springs it was converted into an open sewer by the excrement cdst in from stringers and boards placed along over the brook in its course. In the center of the camp there was an old one-story frame building, built upon posts, with a floor in it, about sixty or sevent}' feet in length by forty feet in width. Besides, there were some sheds from sixty to one hundred feet long and sixteen feet wide, with a a roofing of boards pitched toward the sides from a ridge pole in the center. The sides of the sheds were not in- closed. When we arrived all the places of shelter and all the vacant ground, save that portion sloping toward the sinks, were occupied. So, we had to lie upon the ground 42 Prisoners of War. without shelter for ten days or two weeks, until more sheds were built. Ample space for inspection, for passage, and parade separated the sheds. When they were com- pleted, each man was allowed a board sixteen feet long for the construction of a bunk. Sleeping quarters were fixed wherever between the ground and roof it suited an indi- vidual's fancy, so that he did not trespass on his comrades. The ground was nearly level, only at the rear end it de- clined rapidly to the ravine through which the stream passed. "It never rains but it pours" in this latitude, and as heaven's flood gates opened frequently the flat sur- face of the camp was often covered to the depth of sev- eral inches, to the great discomfort of those who were without shelter, of whom there were always one or two hundred while we remained in Macon. These might keep their persons dry by crowding into the sheds, but there was no way for them to sleep unless they lay down in the water under cover, or upon sand piles outside ex- posed to the rain, which many of them did. The rain storms, however, were not unwelcome to those in bunks under cover. They afforded opportunity for personal ablution, and many nude individuals could be seen mak- ing the most of nature's shower baths. The soil on top was sandy, which soon absorbed the surplus water, and the ground did not became muddy from the rains except upon the slope, where the clay subsoil had been exposed by the washing off" of the sand. At dark the sentries commenced calling the hours, which they continued until daylight. " Nine o'clock and all's well," etc. Instead of announcing the hour in a deliberate, even, and heavy tone of voice, they adopted a quick, sing-song tone, putting the emphasis on "ALL'S," which made it sound ludicrous. In a spirit of mockery, to give them an idea of the charm of their vocalization, we would sometimes catch up the refrain and send it around all over the camp. Then a broadside of choice oaths and epithets would be poured in upon us, with threats of bullets from the more irate of the guards, if tlicre was an}' further repetition. We had no use for the c c o *# — ^ / 1 ;■ s ?S -. « 1 til 1 1 J * - -*»^^ ** « Prisoners of War. 43 bullets, at least we did not know how we could derive any good from a shower of lead. But we did know that they were only too ready to tire them into us, so when leaden balls were suggested, vocal muscles became suddenly affected with a lead paral^'sis, and all efforts at vocaliza- tion in imitation of the sentinels ceased. The daily ration per man consisted of one pint of corn meal; a quarter of a pound of bacon; one ounce of rice; one ounce of dried beans, and one teaspoonful of salt. There was a sutler's establishment on the premises, where eggs, beans, potatoes, turnips, onions, flour, bacon, beef, rice, sugar, and tobacco could be purchased for Confed- erate money. The sutler also bartered for rings, watches, pocket-books, "wild-cat" bank-notes, greenbacks, shoulder-straps, gold lace, brass buttons, and odds and ends in the possession of the prisoners. But, as only a comparativelj'' few of the prisoners possessed Confederate money or articles to barter for it, the majority were hardly any better off for the sutler's presence, except that they might be the recipients of some bounty from their more fortunate comrades. We were badlj- off for cooking utensils, a skillet with a lid to it, termed a " Dutch oven," and a six-quart tin bucket having to do duty among a great many. In order to be able to draw our rations, we had to make bags out of our underclothes or the lining of our clothing, so that we might have something to receive them in. 44 Prisoners of War. CHAPTER VI. Brigadier Generals — General Heckman — Scrambling FOR Garbage — A Eaee Biped — Foi'rtii of July at Macon — Speeches, Songs — The Stars and Stripes Dis- played — Affecting and Exciting Scenes — "God's Flag." T one end of the frame building a room about sixteen feet square was partitioned ofi", which had been set apart for, or been appropriated by, three of our brigadier-generals with some of the members of their staffs. One day a tall, lean, muscular officer from Sherman's army Avas brought in. Having made the rounds of the place, he found more empty space in this room than anywhere else, and, accordingly, he disposed himself there upon the floor for repose. He had not rested long before a captain and assistant adjutant-general to one of the generals came in, and, shaking up the new arrival, the following conversa- tion occurred : A. A. G. — Did you know that this is the general's quarters ? E"ew Arrival. — No, sir. A. A. G.— Well, it is. N. A. — Well, I ain't a bit particular about my com- pany in here, and I'd just as soon roost with a brigadier- general as any body else. A. A. G. — But, sir, you will have to move out of here. ]Sr. A.— Will, hey ? Who will move me ? A. A. G. — The generals, sir. ]Sr. A. — Just bring on yourgigadier brindles. I'm about the liveliest mover they ever saw. I haven't had much to eat for two or three days, and it would feel kind o' good to swallow a brigadier-general or two, buttons and all. Prisoners uf War. 45 A. A. G. — They will have the guard brought in to move you. ]Sr. A. — Will, hey? Well, my son, don't give yourself any uneasiness about me. I am a goin to take a nap and I will be right here when the guard comes in. If any body comes round lookin' for me, please to show 'em right in. The guard did not come in and the new arrival did not go out. The brigadier-generals ignored his presence, and he was apparently as unconcerned about theirs as though they were separated by a thousand miles. Among the prisoners in our party from Richmond was Brigadier-General Heckman, a major in the regular army, who had commanded a New Jersey brigade in the Army of the Potomac. As already stated, when we got to Macon, the only place for us was the slope descending to the sinks, and here, in the mud, filth, and stench, we were compelled to settle ourselves. We had arrived but a short time when it became known that a general was with us, and a messenger was sent from the brigadier-generals above mentioned to invite General Heckman to share their quarters. This gentleman told the messenger that he (Heckman) took no account of superiority of rank in such a place. What accommodations were accorded to the other prisoners were good enough for him. He was simply a soldier like the rest, and it was his duty to suffer like privations. He asked no privileges for himself from his captors, and he would not place himself in an equivo- cal position by accepting them. These same brigadier-generals had every thing to eat that the markets of Macon afforded. Eor their own spec- ial accommodation a garbage barrel was placed outside of the building just beneath one of their windows, to receive the refuse from their table. Officers of all grades below that of brigadier-general have crowded and jostled each other about that waste receptacle, in the struggle to secure an onion top, a turnip or potato paring, or other vegetable refuse, or, perhaps, a rind of bacon, or trimming of fresh meat. In promulgating the orders of the rebel prison of- 46 Prisoners of War. ficials, these general officers embodied them in orders of their own, as if to stamp them with approval, and gave them out over their signatures, just as they would have done if commanding troops in the field. The orders were bulletined upon the outside of their quarters, by the side of the front door, and, as time hung lieavy on their hands, they took to issuing orders for their own diversion. Hardly a day passed without the posting of several new ones. Most of them were uncalled for and offensive. As coming direct from the prison officials themselves, the joint orders would not have disturbed us, but we resented it as beneath the dignity of Union generals thus to subordinate themselves to a confederate captain, and to command their fellow officers in misfortune as though they were menials to wait upon the beck and nod of their august persons. To say that we looked upon them with contempt but feebly expresses it. They did not remain with us long — only until the 12th of June — when they, with about fifty field officers, down to the grade of major, were sent to Charleston, for special exchange it was said. But fev,' " good-byes " were extended to them when they took their departure. The feeling upon their leaving was doubtless reciprocal — they were probably as well pleased in parting with us as we were in parting with them. Many were of the opinion that it was the antipathy existing toward them on the part of the prisoners which had led to their re- moval, and that General Heckman, whom all revered, and the field officers, had been taken along as a blind. It mat- tered not for what they were withdrawn, it was enough to know that they were gone, and no one would ever care to look upon their like again. There was a second lieutenant of a United States cav- alry regiment, who, for volubility and the small amount of sense to the number of words, could be matched against the world. He had an idea that the officers of the regular army constituted the high caste of the country. He him- self had been appointed from civil life from Philadelphia, where, he said, his family enjoyed the highest social dis- tinction. He exhibited a superciliousness which would have been unbearable if it had not been ridiculous, and he Prisoners of War. 47 was in the habit of speaking of the volunteers as " parti- san soldiers." For this he was rebuked at the time of capture by a Confederate general whose good offices he besought on the ground that he was no " partisan soldier." The general remarked that he had infinitely more respect for a man who fought for principle than one who fought for pay, and that when he had any favors to bestow he would always give preference to the former. This rara avis conceived a brilliant plan of escape, which was when the cart came in for the camp ofi"al,to crawl into it and lie flat, face downward, upon the bottom of the bed, while some of his companions covered him up with garbage. But he was too long for the vehicle — and he was a good deal like the ostrich hiding its head in the sand — for his feet stuck out beyond the covering. When, therefore, the cart passed through the gate, the guard seized him by the feet, landed him on the ground, and hustled him back through the sally-port in marvelously quick time. Some wags now gathered about and imparted to him the cheer- ful information that the penalty of trying to escape was death. They told him that as soon as the prison com- mandant heard of his attempt, he would send in a file of soldiers to take him out and shoot him. They advised him to have his head shaved to the scalp, his face blacked, his clothes turned wrong side out, to dig a hole under the center of the frame building and burrow in it until such time as the rebs should give up hunting for him ; all of which he did. At short intervals throughout the day- time some one would bawl to him under the house: "Lie low, W ; they are after you." He stood it for three days, when he emerged from his hole about as begrimed and dejected as Bunyan's poor Pil- grim when he got out of the slough. As sympathetic souls drew near unto him he ex- claimed: "By Jove, gentle- men ; I positively believe if my fathah could see me now, f-i-Hcl Ol'- 48 Prisoners of War. he would nevah nioali acknowledge me as his son, and it would absolutely dwive my pwecious sistah mad to behold me. It is inconceivably shocking. I have resolved the first opportunity that oiiers to present myself to the com- mandant, and endeavah to convince him that capital pun- ishment is altogetha too seveah for a small affaih like that." Of course some one let him into the joke, and from thenceforth he was a humbler, if not a wiser, man. The 4th of July, 1864, will ever remain a memorable day to those who at that time were prisoners of war within the stockade at Macon. The prisoners had crowded in and around the central structure to listen to some speeches in commemoration of the nation's birthday. Captain Todd, of the 8th New Jersey Infantrj-, displayed a small United States flag, four by six inches — about the size of a man's hand — which he had managed to keep secreted upon his person. The effect was indescribable. The air was rent with cheers, and shouts, and cries. Tears in streams coursed down the cheeks of great, rough, shaggy men as they hugged each other and yelled at the sight of the ban- ner. Those near enough reverently kissed it, and men at some distance away climbed upon the backs of others to get a view of it. " Hold it up," shouted a voice, " don't be afraid ; hold it up so that we can all feast our souls upon it. The rebs won't dare to molest it. Hold it up, for while there is a man of us alive to defend it with his hands neither the Southern Confederacy, the powers of earth or hell can touch it." The " Star Spangled Banner " and "Rally Round the Flag" were sung. During the singing some of the older guards were seen leaning tremblingly over their muskets and crying like children. The enthusiasm and noise became so great that the lono- roll was sounded by the Confederates outside, the artillery was manned, the infantry stood to their guns, and the guards upon the platform faced toward the inclosure with their muskets at the cock. The commandant sent in the officer of the day with a company of troops, who ordered us to disperse to our quarters and remain quiet under pen- Prisoners of War. 49 alty of being fired upon if the order was not at once obeyed. There were those who in the ardor of their quickened patriotic impulses strongly urged, all unarmed as we were, a rush upon the company inside, a breaking down of the inclosure, and a charge iipon the outside forces. This, of course, would have been sheer madness, for the guarding force outnumbered us two to one, and had bearing on the prison camp seven pieces of artillery. Better counsels prevailed, and the meeting dispersed. But no rebel guard, or cannon, or muskets, could rob us of the inspiration we received from the sight of that glorious star spangled banner, diminutive though it was. We felt no more hunger, or nakedness, or weakness, or illness that day, and it exalted our hopes and strengthened our faith in the final victory of our arms. It seemed that the feeling by which we were pervaded was but a reflex transmitted to us from the great heart of the nation, and we knew that with the loyal people animated by the spirit which stirred in us, the flag would triumph, must triumph. Those who have never been similarly circumstanced can scarcely have attained to a full appreciation of the majesty of our ensign of the republic. To our eyes, " human rights " were emblazoned all over it, as against human power and inhuman practices. It floated before young men, approaching the years of manhood, in the light of a divine revelation. It awakened older men to ideas of the grandeur of the basic structure of our government which they had never realized. If a demand had been made for the emblem, not one captive soldier there, it is believed, who would not have 'esteemed it the highest ■glory to have died in its defense, like those immortal heroes of the sloop-of-war, Cumberland, in Hampton Roads, who went down to their rest standing to their guns and saluting the flag. There they yet remain be- neath the waves, but they are not dead, and never will die while history lives. They live and will live to kindle the fires of patriotism in thousands of hearts. An ofiicer was wasting away of chronic disease in one of the sheds to the rear of the central structure. lie lay 4 50 Prisoners of War. stretched out upon a rough board, a living skeleton, clothed in tattered, weather-stained rags, and covered with a ragged remnant of a blanket. He heard of the flag, and sent for it. As it was held up before him a strange love-light shone in his sunken eyes, and an unearthly flush suftused his hollow cheeks and temples. He said, between his gasps for breath: " Give me the flag in my hand. God blesa it ! Let me kiss it. Boys, this is f.LqtX't't': God's own flag, and I believe He sent it here to-day. I never expected to see it again. You know what it repre- sents to me. I have seen it, and it's just the same, and I can die just as happy as though I had seen them. My lifeless body will be taken out shortly, and they may plant my bones wherever they please, for our flag, God's flag, will float over them before very long. If a spirit can re- turn to influence living men my spirit will come right back without delay to raise up defenders for that flag." A per- fect peace came over him, which continued until he died, that day, it is believed, though it might have been a few days later. The perfectness, and beauty, and strength of our po- litical fabric, as reflected in the flag, was impressed upon every one there as never before. ISTot one who could claim the smallest particle of manly soul in him who did not consider the perils and privations he had undergone as simply an experience necessary to aftbrd him the most comprehensive understanding of the great issues involved in the struggle. Although the experience was every thing but pleasant, it was not to be regarded, in view of the great gain derived from it. Congress may make some return to surviving prisoners of war by pass- ing a pension bill for their benefit, but it can not compen- sate them. The memories of occasions when, as on that Prisoners of War. 51 4th of July at Macon, in the white heat of patriotic fer- vor each soul glowed into a kinship to divinity, are more prized than any annuities the government can grant. Only such inspirations afford any compensation in extrem- ities in which money could not induce men to place them- selves. 52 Prisoners of War. CHAPTER VII. "The Council of Five Hundred'" — The Oath of Initi- ation — Bold Plans of Escape — J^etrayed by the Chief Officers of the Organization. T Macon, an organization was formed for es- cape, known as the " Council of Five Hun- dred." It was composed of field and staff officers, and five companies of one hundred men each, with the usual line officers. The originators were Lieutenant Wm. Nelson, 13th U. S. In- fantry, now captain and brevet major (retired), of Poncha Springs, Colorado, and Captain E. L. Smith, 19th H. S. Infantry, now an attorney at law of Denver, Colorado. It had been fortunate had the leadership been vested in these true and resolute men. Unluckily, however, the plan em- braced a " Council of Twelve," the members of which, having been selected, agreed to meet at a certain time to perfect the organization. Accordingly-, when the meeting took place for the election of a leader, Nelson and Smith, although on hand to the minute, did not arrive until Cap- tain , U. S. Infantry, had been proposed and elected to the chief command. The ranks were recruited by the organizers and first members telling their friends that a band was being formed for escape which they ought to join. If a desire was ex- pressed to belong to it, an introduction to an officer of the " Five Hundred " followed. This functionary then swore them upon their honor as gentlemen and soldiers never to reveal anj'^ thing which he might communicate, or the ex- istence of the confederation. They were then told that the model of the organization was that of the regiment, and the object was as a united force to take advantage of and make effective any opportunity that offered to escape Frisoners of Vi\ir. 53 en masse. The lueinbers were sworn to obey their officers, and failure to obey commands, or treachery, was punish- able by death. The death penalty was to be inflicted by members chosen by lot, and the members so selected were to execute their mission regardless of the consequences to themselves. The death penalty would also be visited upon those who should reveal the existence and purposes of the organization, even though they did not become members. The obligation was binding only as long as they were pris- oners of war. If it was found safe and practicable, the membership might be brought up to one thousand. After this information, the individual was at liberty to decline membership or to join, as he saw fit. The form of oath administered to members was about as follows : " I, , do solemnly swear, in the presence of Almighty God, that, as long as I am a prisoner of war, I will be a true and loyal member of the Council of Five Hundred ; that I will obey the officers placed over me, and that, if I should be selected by lot to inflict capital punishment upon a traitor to the organization, I will exert my best endeavors so to do at an}' and all hazards. So help me God." It was a fearful oath to take, and its only justification was in the situation. J^o inquiry was made as to the ex- perience of other members, but one is known who dreaded to go to sleep for many nights after his initiation, on ac- count of the character of his dreams, they were so horri- bly realistic. The black bean was always drawn by the victim of these phantasms, and there followed a train of horrors — assassination, pursuit, the brand of Cain, together with the pleasing mental introspection inseparably con- nected with such incidents. After this oath it was revealed to the newly-made mem her that four tunnels were being excavated which would have capacity sufficient to let out all the members in an hour's time. Each member was to provide himself with a stout stick or club, in readiness for the completion of the tunnels, which would be announced to him in his quarters the night of the opening, when he was to get up, quietly pass out, and be conducted to the outside rendezvous. No 54 Prisoners of War. plan of action was announced upon reaching the outside, but, from the statement being made that many of the guards were in the plot, it was inferred that, with their aid, an assault was to be made upon their quarters, and a capture made of their arms and artiller3\ All the prison- ers were then to be released, armed, and organized. But, alas ! the fallacy of human hopes and plans. Trait- ors, without or within, informed the prison authorities of the tunnels, and, on the morning preceding the night of opening, the guard marched in, uncovered the tunnels and filled them up. The informer was not known ; but a lieutenant of a Missouri regiment was said to be the man, because, shortly after the disclosure, he was taken out and paroled. Vengeance did not fall upon him, as he was be- yond reach. It was always so with the traitors to the " Five Hundred ; " they all got away, and the " Five Hun- dred" were "left" — in more than one sense. On the morning of July 27th, the prison commandant announced in camp that six hundred prisoners must be ready in the evening to move to Charleston, S. C. The selection of those who were to go was left to the senior ofiicer of the prisoners, and he was easily prevailed upon by the ofiieers of the " Five Hundred" to favor the mem- bers of that organization. Consequently, they at first constituted nearly the whole of the moving division. But as they were moved out into the dead line and halted there, several hours after dark, before marching out, this preponderance was greatly reduced by the other prisoners coming out and crowding up to the front of the line. Pocotaligo Station, on the Charleston and Savannah Rail- road, was where all trains between the two places stopped to replenish their water tanks. This place Avas twelve miles from Pocotaligo Sound, whose waters were patrolled by United States gunboats. Between the station and the sound, the only Confederate troops to dispute the way was an insignificant picket guard. Captain , of the regular army, was the commander of the "Five Hun- dred." He had been stationed at Charleston before the war, and had hunted over the whole country around Po- Prisoners of War. 55 cotaligo. He had caused it to be communicated to the members of his command, that when the train halted at Pocotaligo, a red lantern would be displayed from the front car, in which he was to ride with the ranking officers of the "Five Hundred" and of the prisoners. At this signal, the inside guards, with their arms, were to be seized, and, with the arms thus secured, the prisoners were to jump out and intimidate the guards on top of the cars. In the front car, the boards had all been sawed through from the bottom to the top at the end next to the tender, and when the signal was exhibited, two locomotive engineers of the prisoners were to kick out the boards, spring onto the engine, and assume its management. The telegraph wires were next to be cut, the track torn up, the train run into Pocotaligo creek, and, with Captain as commander and guide, and the guard as prisoners, a march was to be made to the gunboat. At Savannah, the officer of the guard had discovered the existence of a plot to seize the train, and he demanded more guards, which were not allowed him. After leaving Savannah, he telegraphed back for leave to return the train, as, with the guards he had, he was powerless to prevent an escape ; but the orders were for him to go on and do his duty. Every thing seemed favorable for the attempt. In many of the cars, the arms of the guards were held possession of long before the sig- nal was anticipated, while in others, the caps had been re- moved from the muskets of those guards with whom it was expected there would be much of a struggle to secure their weapons. Tet ^^^ Pocotaligo was passed, .- ? ^'Ji^ and no signal was dis- played. Some discovered that they were beyond the point agreed upon, and fifty or sixty got oft' in one body without mo- lestation from the guard. Many of these made their way to the gunboat. Others, by t^vos and threes and 56 Prisoners of War. dozens, also got oflf at various points all the way to Charleston, a few of whom got safely through, but the most were recaptured in a few days. Lieutenant William E. Roach, of the 49th ISTew York Infantry, was the officer who prepared and had charge of the signal lantern, which was made of a light wooden frame covered with a red handkerchief, and had a short piece of candle for illumination. The statement, as ob- tained from his own lips, as to what occurred in the front car, is as follows : " The central figures there were Captain , of a United States infantry regiment, commander of the 'Five Hundred;' Colonel or Lieutenant-Colonel — — , of an Illinois regiment, of Chicago, second in the organ- ization to Captain ; another field officer of the organ- ization, belonging to the regular army, whose name is for- gotten ; Lieutenant-Colonel T. J. Thorp, of the 1st ISTew York Dragoons ; Colonel , of a JSTew York cavalry regiment ; and mj-self. The conversation was carried on in a whisper. Captain said that the train had al- ready passed- the station at full speed, and he was afraid that the plan was foiled. The candle was lit and the lan- tern was all ready. Colonel , New York Cavalry, got on his knees, cried like a booby, and in a sniveling, whining voice begged for God's sake and the sake of his family that the signal be not hung out. He said that the guards, with their bayonets stuck in the roof to steady themselves, were massed as thick as they could stand upon the top of the car, with instructions to fire down through in case of any movement or signal. ' Every one of us will be killed,' sobbed this miserable coward, ' and what will become of my poor family ?' Captain and the Illi- nois colonel questioned whether it were now advisable to give the signal. The former said that Pocotaligo had been passed, and it was doubtful about an escape being noAV practicable. While they were thus engaged, the train stopped. The Illinois colonel took the signal, and, appealing to the whole car, said: 'Under the circum- stances, shall I swing it?' There was an almost unani- mous ' Yes,' only a few ' Xoes" heiiig intermino;lod. Col- Prisoners of War. 57 onel Thorp took the lantern from Colonel 's hands, remarking: ' I will hang it out. It's no matter what hap- pens to us. It would be an infamous breach of faith not to display the signal.' But before he could reach the car door that despicable wretch, the New York colonel of cavalr}', seized the lantern and tore it all to pieces. The place of stoppage where the lantern was destroj'cd an- swered to the description of, and undoubtedly was, Poco- taligo Station." When Charleston was reached, the superior officers of the "Five Hundred" were sought, and an explanation of their conduct demanded. These precious souls, who had sworn men at the peril of their lives to obey their orders and murder traitors, gave the puerile excuse that to have exhibited the signal would have been to sacrifice the lives of all in the front car. The indignation against them rose extremely high. Captain appeared to be over- come with remorse, and declared an intention of commit- ting suicide. An officer remarked that it was the only thing left for him to do, and that it would be a fitting end for one who, but for an act of cowardice and treachery, might have worn stars upon his shoulder-straps. The Confederates very quickly took out Captain , the Illi- nois colonel, and the other officer whose name is lost, and paroled them. It is rather remarkable that neither their names nor that of the Missouri lieutenant before men- tioned appear in the list of prisoners appended to the published works of Abbott and Glazier, which were copied from the Confederate register. The fact that they were paroled by the rebels, and were never seen afterward by the prisoners, is pretty conclusive evidence that a bargain existed between them, and that, in being removed from their comrades, the price of their treachery was paid them. Thus ended the organization of the " Five Hun- dred," which conceived, and would have executed, brilliant designs, but for the frailties of weak Imraan nature. As for the New York colonel of cavalrj% they had use for hira as an informer, and he was left with ua, no one deigning to notice the despicable poltroon. He had been 58 Prisoners of War. distrusted from the first by the prisoners, and could not gain admission to the " Council of the Five Hundred." Colonel , of the Illinois regiment, accounted for his being in the front car by saying that the New York officer had pushed himself onto him and he could not get rid of him. Probably he was not sent away with the others because he did not desire to be exchanged just at that juncture, since, at the time of his capture, he was under arrest for having furnished false information in regard to a reconnoissance he had been ordered to make to ascertain the whereabouts of the enemy, and it is likely he wished to delay facing a court-martial as long as possible. He was also exceedingly well cared for by the Confederates. He could go outside of the camp when he was so inclined, and he never suffered for lack of any thing to eat or wear. At the time of his capture, when the Confederate Colonel Bellinger, of the 1st South Carolina Cavalry, asked him what he was fighting for, he responded that a destitute family had forced him into the army. His heart was with the South, and at , N. Y., his home, he had made speeches against the war and in favor of the South, and had been egged for so doing. The war sentiment was so strong that he could not breast it; he could obtain no means of livelihood, and therefore he had been driven to find employment in the army in order to feed his family. The rebels took him into favor at once. He had a horse to ride until railroad transportation was reached, and lunches were provided for him at every town through which he passed. When he was exchanged a court-mar- tial found him guilty of furnishing false information in the face of the enemy, and he was cashiered the service. He and the other betrayers of the prisoners ought to have been tried for their unfaithfulness to them, and they should have suffered ignominious death therefor. Had the war continued longer they undoubtedlj- would have been brought to account, but the end coming so suddenly men's minds were diverted into other channels, and no one thought it worth the trouble to present charges against them. Prisoners of War. 50 Lieutenant Roach, who is the authority for the facts above given as to what transpired in the car and what concerns the colonel of New York cavalry, is known to all prisoners of war who were with him, and to thousands of citizens all over the country, both North and South, as a gentleman of unimpeachable character and veracity. There are many who were prisoners of war yet alive at this time who can corroborate his testimony of their own personal knowledge. Moreover, every prisoner, upon common report, is so familiar with the matters set forth that he would not rest more firmly convinced of their truth if he had been personally cognizant of every circum- stance thereunto pertaining. 60 Prisoners of War. CHAPTER VIII. Departure from Macon — Nearly E.e-captured — Venti- lating THE Cars — Prison Camp at Savannah — Rations — Tunnels and Tunneling — The " Crank " Lieutenant. !N the evening of July 28th six hundred more were counted out for removal, among whom was the writer, with his mess, belonging to the "Five Hundred" who were cut off from the first six hundred by the crowding-in proc- ess mentioned in the previous chapter. There was an unusual movement of trains and excitement on the part of the guards. They seemed undecided what to do with us, and it was four o'clock in the morning before we were embarked on the cars. The cause of the commotion was only discovered about an hour after passing Griffin Sta- tion, when we learned that only half an hour after leaving that point General Stoneman's cavalry had struck it and destroyed the railroad. An adverse fate constantly at- tended us. All our own efforts and those of others for us seemed futile. Later on the information was obtained that General Stoneman had been repulsed in an attack upon Macon, and the general himself, with a small detach- ment, captured. The remainder of our officers (prisoners) left behind in Macon, about two hundred in number, were removed to a swamp and closely guarded during the at- tack. Previous railroad journeying in the Confederacy had taught us that, if we were to have air and oppor- tunities for relieving our necessities, we must ob- tain these privileges for ourselves and enjoy them surreptitiously. Preparation had been made to this end Prisoners of War. Ql by notching the backs of case-knives so as to make them serviceable tor saws. With these we made holes in the bottoms of the cars, and as soon as the sun went down, enlarged them sufficiently to permit the passage of a man. Several slipped through these openings and made their escape, but, as we reached Savannah just about dark, there was not opportunity for much of an exodus in this way. It was the original intention to transport all to Charles- ton. The experience, however, with the first division of six hundred, changed this arrangement, and we were halted at Savannah, where a pen had been hastily pre- pared on a part of the grounds belonging to what had been the United States Marine Hospital. This pen or camp was surrounded on three sides by a brick wall about ten feet high, and upon the remaining side by a high, tight board fence. Upon the top of the wall, upon each side, two sentry boxes were placed. The inside boundary of the dead line was marked by a line of posts with a board nailed to the top. The grounds comprised nearly two acres, containing several live oak trees whose shade added greatly to our comfort. One was a magnifi- cent tree, spreading out its branches so as to cover nearly, if not quite, one-fourth of the camp. At one side of the inclosure, close up to the dead line, a deep ditch was dug, with stringers placed across and a single line of boards upon the stringers lengthwise with the ditch. This ex- cavation served as the general latrine, and was daily filled in with dirt. Midway between the sentry boxes, in the center of the dead line, and, at the camp entrance, plat- forms about five feet high were erected upon which bright fires of pitch pine were kept burning all night. Our water supply was obtained from a well within the inclosure by means of a pump. The water was rather brackish and the well was sometimes exhausted by evening. But the supply was renewed during the night, and, after a time, a liberal water supply was had by the introduction of pipes from the city water-works. Bathing facilities were 62 Prisoners of War. very limited here, consequently we had to take advantage of the rains for thorough personal cleansing. One "A" tent was issued to six men, which obliged us to form messes of six. One board about twelve feet long was allowed to each man with which to construct a bunk. The bunks had to be set two feet from the ground and to be open underneath, so as to permit free inspection of the ground. This arrangement was designed to prevent tun- nelling, but it was a good sanitary measure as well. In building the bunks, we made the central one about eighteen inches higher than the ones at the sides, so that the former might serve as a table and the latter as seats. The tents were pitched over the tops of the bunks, so that they could be opened or let down at the sides according to the state of the weather. The tents were in regular order, in rows, about fifteen feet space being left between the rows, and about four feet between the tents. "With the shade of the trees to protect us from the sun, and the good ventilation afforded by the separation of the tents and the fires at night, we were fairly well quartered, though rather closely stowed for sleeping purposes. Of course, we always slept with our clothes on, but even then, having nothing to place under us and only thread- bare blankets for a cover, suffered 9, good deal from cold during the cool southern nights. Some small brick outhouses on the grounds were torn down, and with the bricks thus obtained, we con- structed ovens to bake our corn bread and roast our beef The ration here was generous and of good quality. The daily amount per man was as follows : One pint of corn meal, one pound of fresh beef, one gill of rice, one-fourth of an ounce of salt, and occasionally a little flour. We were also given some cooking utensils, and, with the ovens, were enabled to cook our food thoroughly and in the most palatable manner. It was the paradise of the southern prisoners. Scurvy disappeared, diarrheal troubles in great measure subsided, the physical condition vastly improved, and the deaths were few. We were strictly guarded, but no defenseless prisoner was murdered by a Prisoners of War. 63 guard while here, and there was no special abuse to com- plain of. We were destitute of clothing and all the or- dinary conveniences of life, hut we had enough gross food to satisfy hunger. We remained at Savannah until the 12th of September, when we were removed to Charleston, going in the day-time, to our great disappointment. Reference has been made to tunnels. We were never at any place long until, like rabbits, we commenced to dig. Tunnelling was laborious, for we had no implements -o^ ^- I' 4 \ Tunneling at Macon. but case-knives, and such as we fashioned from pieces of boards. The excavations, too, were small, few being over two feet square, and work was consequently carried on in a very cramped condition. A tunnel was generally started under a bunk as near as possible to the " dead line." One foot from the surface the mouth was covered with boards, covered over wnth the original dirt, and the ground around swept to give it a uniform appearance. Work was usually prosecuted at night, but, when circumstances were favor- able, it was also pushed in the day time. The working force consisted of a man to dig, one to scrape the loose dirt into a bag, men stationed at intervals to pass the bag along to the entrance, one in the entrance to pass it to others outside, who bore it away to the sinks. There were also watchers and scouts outside, who gave warning 64 Prisoners of War. of any dangerous approach, so that every thing could be put in order, and discovery avoided. There was no trouble in disposing of the dirt, because it v^as the custom to dig holes every-where in camp for our slops. The dirt was put in a pile by the side of the hole, and every day filled in. The tunnel dirt would be distributed in these sink holes, and then covered over with the old dirt, so that it always looked honest. The force of workers had to be often changed on account of the onerous nature of the work. At Savannah there was an old well, about twelve feet wide and about thirty-five feet deep, partly filled with water, which had been covered with plank, and filled over with dirt. This afibrded a good receptacle for dirt, and a mine which could be worked day and night. A tunnel was run into it from a tent close by. The well was bridged over by a board, and the tunnel continued on the other side. This tunnel was several hundred feet long, and crossed adisused vault in its course, which also served as a receptacle for dirt. It was carried out under a street, and an excavator working there one day found that he had gone nearer the surface than he intended. A small gravel fell from the roof, letting in a ray of daylight. On looking out through the crevice, a chicken was discov- ered with its head cocked upon one side and its eye fixed upon the hole, as much as to say, " I am watching you, old fellow." Although the seeker after freedom thought that the fowl had him decidedly' foul, he did not quail, but made great game over the oddity of the situation. He laughed until nearly breathless, and then made his way back through the' tunnel to tell his comrades. An incon- siderate cow, in straying around shortly after, fell into the, tunnel, whereupon the authorities came in, uncovered the tunnel, and filled up all the vaults and dead wells. "When they uncovered the old well it was found that the plank over which the tunnel operatives had been " coon- ing" it in the dark had a bearing of only one inch upon the opposite wall of the well. Many an enterprising in- Prisoners of War. e5 dividual had often, therefore, been within an inch of eter- nity without knowing it. There was a lieutenant of First New York Cavalry, who, in an engagement with the enemy, had received a sabre blow upon the head, which was considered to have somewhat disturbed his mental balance, and he was gen- erally regarded as a " crank." He wandered about the camp at all hours, day and night, picking up leaves, and bits of sticks and cloth, with which he ornamented his button holes. By climbing the trees and other movements after night, he be- came generally known to the guards, who reported him to the the commandant. He was sought out by either the commandant, or his officer of the day, who told him that, unless he quit his wandering about at night, he would be shot. The lieutenant, as he straightened up bis small spare figure to its full height, observed: "Sir, my life is in your hands. You can find foemen worthier of v(.)nr steel at the front; but, if you can not rest satisfied until you have killed a Yankee, perhaps I am as good a victim as could be selected." In drawing boards for bunks, the lieutenant also drew his board, but, having at that time no fixed habitation, he disposed of it to Captain , of the Eighth Pennsylvania Cavalry. Subsequently, some disagreement arose between them, the lieutenant • claiming that he had only loaned the board, while the cap- tain held on to it as a gift or a purchase. One morning about daybreak, we were startled by appealing cries of ''Hi^ hi, help! help! I" Springing from our bunks, Cap- tain was found lying on his back in a cold sweat, covering his eyes with his hands, and spluttering, "Don't you drop those live coals in my eyes! Oh, you scoundrel, you would destroy my sight, would you?" At the head of his bunk, with folded arms, calmly looking down upon him, stood the lieutenant. He quietly said : '• Captain 5 66 Prisoners of War. , I am only here to see if you are able to sleep sweetly on my board." " But," I'esponded the captain, " what the thunder were you doing raking in the coal heap at the oven?" "Looking for fire to light my pipe," was the reply. With that the supposed " crank " walked away. The board was returned to him, Captain coming to the conclusion that he could rest just as sweetly with- out it. Prisoners of War. 67 CHAPTER IX. Charleston, S. C. — The Jail Yard — Colored Soldiers — Deserters and Thieves — Under Fire of Union Bat- teries — Wrecking a Tent — Robbing a Sutler. ■HEN we arrived at Charleston, the evening of the 12th of September, we were turned into the jail yard, a filthy, lousy place, with an insufiicient supply of water, and what lit- tle there was of it was unfit for use, by rea- son of its brackishness and warmth. There were a few "A" tents, not nearly enough to afford shelter to all. There was a tent next to the gallows in which an enlisted man from Andersonville was dying of yellow fever. The mess of six to which the writer belonged was assigned to this tent. We sat down upon the outside until the breath left the body, when the corpse was removed and we took possession of the quarters, lying upon the ground, as no boards or bunks were furnished. Our old comrades, who had preceded us from Macon, had been paroled, and were in occupation of Roper and Charity hospitals, where they had good quarters and could procure some of the neces- saries of life. Many of those who came with us from Sa- vannah were also paroled and sent out to the hospitals — • among whom were four of our messmates. The jail yard was surrounded by a brick wall, twelve feet high, upon two sides, and by the work-house and jail upon the other two. The privy-vault was overflowing ; we were cut off from the sea breeze, and the sun poured down his fiercest rays upon a sandy soil, producing a stifiing atmosphere and heat almost overpowering. Occasionally, a sort of whirlwind would play over the yard, filling the air with fine dust and sand, adding to the misery of our condition. The ration was scanty, and very poor in quality. The 68 Prisoners of War, issue was as follows for ten days: corn meal, five pints; flour, three pints; rice, two quarts; beans, black and full of bugs, three pints ; two ounces of bacon, and a small quantity of salt. We only had such cooking utensils as we had purloined and brought with us from Savannah. The issue of wood was scant; not enough to permit us thoroughly to cook our provisions. If our comrades in Roper hospital had not thrown us bread and cooked veg- etables over the wall, we could scarcely have weathered through the ordeal of the jail yard. Jail and Work-house, Charleston^, S. C. The jail was filled with Union colored soldiers, desert- ers from both armies, thieves, prostitutes, and murderers. This horde was turned out to mix with us for a few hours every evening. Each of these classes — colored soldiers, deserters, and jail-birds — ■ had their distinctive songs, which, in the early evening, they were accustomed to sing alternately. This was rather enlivening, and Ave could stand a little of it very well. When, however, they all vociferated at the top of their bent, it was as though pande- monium were let loose. Not infrequently, they kept up Prisoners of War. 69 the infernal discord all night. Fond memory only retains the chorus belonging to the favorite song of each : Colored Soldiers' Chorus. Waiting, weak and hungry ; Oh ! how bad I feel. Down in Charleston, South Carolina, Praying for a good, square meal. Rebel Deserters' Chorus. May the divil admoire 'im ; The ratthelsnakes boite 'm ; Jiff Davis — the crather who brought These hard toimes upon me. Jail-Birds' Chorus. — (Twice repeated.) Then rouse her down, ye jail-birds ; Oh, rouse her down, my dear ! I'm a rollicking rake of poverty, And the son of a gambolier. There was some melody in the negro voices, and they touched the ear very pleasantly. The deserters drawled out their airs in a rich Irish brogue. There Avas rather too much sameness of sentiment in the different verses and monotony in the measure. "When the ear had to submit to the same strain a dozen times repeated, nearly every night, it may not appear astounding that it came to be considered one of the great discomforts of the jail-yard. But the jail -birds' singing was a rasping jingle which har- rowed up the soul and set a man to hunting up brickbats, and longing for dynamite or an earthquake. We were under the fire of our guns on Morris Island, in order to protect the city, it was said. At night, by the lighted fuse, we could trace the winged messengers of de- struction, as they sped high over us to create consternation further on. Day and night we could hear their explosions all around, and whenever there was an indication that con- siderable damage had been wrought we would " make the welkin ring." "We rather enjoyed being under fire, for every "boom," and every shrieking shot were hailed as messages of joy, bidding us wait but a little longer. We 70 Prisoners of War. were only in danger when shots fell short, as only hap- pened on two occasions, inflicting but slight injuries upon two or three prisoners. Our gunners, from long practice, had the range of every portion of the city, and knowing where we were stationed, they threw the shots beyond us. There was a sutler in the jail with a little stock of bacon, flour, beans, bread, soda, etc., in all worth perhaps about flfteen dollars in greenbacks. The sight of these things to famishing men who had no means with which to purchase but intensified their longing for them, and five or six oflicers, most of whom belonged to the regular army, decided that if possession constituted nine points of the law the other point might be waived as not being ap- plicable under the statute to hungry prisoners of war, since only civil humanity had been comprehended in the purview. Nevertheless, that it might be rendered abso- lutely void in any interpretation it might have as against them, they drafted a series of resolutions declaring that Union officers who would rob a sutler were unworthy of the name, a disgrace to the uniform they wore, a lot of low-born wretches, cowardly knaves who would not hesi- tate to betray the cause in which they were enlisted, and a stencil in the nostrils of those with whom fate had asso- ciated them. Furthermore, an earnest request, amounting to a demand, was included for a committee of investiga- tion, to be appointed by the prison commandant from among the prisoners, for the purpose of ferreting out the villains who had perpetrated so heinous a crime as the robbery of a prison sutler, to the end that proper punish- ment might be meted out to the guilty, the claims of jus- tice satisfied, and the stigma of so outrageous an act lifted from their innocent and unfortunate comrades. However, before presenting these expressions of their bursting souls, they first proceeded to reap all the advantage the law assigns to possession by spoiling the sutler of his goods in the dusk of evening. When the commandant entered the prison, in high dudgeon, he was met by the authors of the MSS. and AlUSS, who, with indignation in their tones and sorrow in their faces, read oft" their literature before Prisoners of War. 71 him and delivered it over duly signed. Of course it was concluded that only pure souls could thus eftervesce, and they were selected to investigate thoroughly into the mat- ter and make a report. They took sufficient time to look into it, so that want of deliberation could not he charged against them, and then reported that, from the way in which the robbery was committed, it was unquestionably the work of experts. Among the officers, who, at home, were men having fixed occupations and character, there were none capable of executing so artistic a job, and therefore they could not have been guilty of it. Besides, no traces of the missing goods could be found about them, and they had no places of concealment. On the other hand, the professional thieves confined in the jail had, since the evening of the theft, been unusually hilarious, which was susceptible of explanation upon the generally accepted idea that high living exalted the animal spirits. Withal the business was directly to their hand, and they were the only ones qualified by long practice to succeed in that line of advanced art. While, therefore, the inves- tigating committee would by no means cast whatever of odium attached to the performance upon any without the most conclusive proof, yet those who, from their previous manner of life, had not placed themselves above reproach, in the absence of any evidence tending to criminate others, could not be passed over without attracting something of suspicion. In conclusion, the committee expressed the opinion that, in the absence of any thing tending to show who were the perpetrators of the deed, it would be mani- festly out of place to visit punishment on any parties. They commended themselves for the ardor and care they had exhibited in the prosecution of the investigation and respectfully submitted their report. The above report served to make all principals and per- sons connected with the event just about as even as the lapse of a hundred years was capable of working out. The general body of the officers was exculpated, as they should have been. The supposed perpetrators suffered no loss, for they had nothing to lose, either in character or 72 Prisoners of War. otherwise, and they received the credit of an exploit their souls would have delighted in. The real delinquents saved themselves from loss and derived some substantial gain. The only other party interested in the issue was the sutler. What loss there was, of course, fell to him. But an incre- ment of experience accrued to him which is beyond esti- mate, though enough probably to save him in the future from the waste of a large aggregate capital, and thus much more than counter-balance the temporary loss. The report was accepted as exhaustive, and further proceedings were not deemed necessary in the premises. We were always ready to avail ourselves of any chances to provide for our present and future necessities. Two prisoners in the jail-yard were about shirtless when, upon the morning of the 5th of October, we were ordered to be ready to move to Columbia, S. C, in the evening. The "A" tent we occupied was nearly new, and we saw in it material not only for shirts, but also for shelter in a possi- ble and highly probable emergency. How to become possessed of it was a matter which puzzled us, as the guard was constantly patrolling just back of the tent, be- tween it and the wall. But the genius to accom- plish it was not wanting. As the light of day began to wane, we cut every other stitch throughoi: two widths clear across the tent. Then, as the shades of evening fell, we began to hurl choice bil- lingsgate at each other with voices which continually waxed louder and louder. This attracted the guard to the spot, and, the audience thus secured, the show promptly commenced, to his great delight. We buckled to it like prize-fighters, clinched and fell, gouged and bit, kicked the tent poles out, and were covered up in the general wreck. As we emerged from the ruins each one called upon the guard to witness Prisoners of War. 73 that the other fellow did it. The guard was unable to decide who did it, and he did not care ; he was only sorry that such an untoward accident had ended his enjoyment of an interesting combat. He marched off to the other end of his beat, and we improved the absence to disengage the loose tent widths, roll them up in our blankets, and spread out the rest of the tent over the ground so that no loss of canvass would be apparent. When the order came to move out we felt as rich as lords, staggering under all we could carry. It proved valuable to us at Columbia as a roof for our " dug out," and as a sort of shelter until this dwelling-place was completed. 74 Prisoners of War. CHAPTER X. Columbia, S. C. — Camp Sorghum — Rations — Killing a Hog — Meat Depkivation — Confederate Money Ob- tained — Sutler's Prices — Building Quarters — A Foul Place — Hundred Days' Men — Escapes. 'OLUMBIA was reached the afternoon of the 6th of October. We were disembarked and corraled in a space between some old to- bacco warehouses filled with bacon. A pole was secured, a nail driven into the end of it, and some flitches of bacon fished out. For this heinous offense one of our number received a dangerous bayo- net stab in the back from a guard. This was the only meat ration we drew at Columbia, and very few derived any advantage from even that. In the midst of a cold, pouring rain, we were moved into an open lot in the outskirts of the city, where the night was passed lying upon the vv^et ground without shelter. The next day we were marched two or three miles out of the city, and, for permanent quarters, turned into an open field, having upon it a thin growth of scrubby pines. The weather was rainy and cold, we were in a sorry plight for clothing and shoes, the majority having but shreds of clothing, and many being shoeless. At first for fuel to cook our mush we only had the green pine boughs wo broke off of the trees and bushes. Afterward they gave us a little wood. The only ration issued was corn meal, salt, and sorghum molasses. From this last named article the place was dubbed " Camp Sorghum." The sorghum was a good article, but with the corn meal it gave rise to an intense acid dyspepsia and diarrhea, so that we were compelled to throw it away. The corn meal was very coarse, the cob seemed to have been ground Prisoners of War. 75 with the corn, and we had to sift it before we could use it. The refuse from the sifting was browned, and a decoction made from it which was our substitute for cofiee. Scurvy, wliich had about disappeared since we left Macon, under the influence of the diet at Savannah, again became prevalent. No one who has not sufi'ered from prolonged meat deprivation can imagine the cravings which tormented us. Any thing having the appearance of meat would have been greedily devoured and no ques- tions asked. An old "razor-back" boar, as tough, lean, and unsavory as an aged billy-goat, upon straggling into camp, was set upon and dispatched with clubs. The famished prisoners piled upon each other in the struggle to get a piece of the flesh, and hacked it up into little bits with knives. Those who were fortunate enough to secure a taste esteemed it the sweetest morsel they had ever known. The tops of a pair of cavalry boots, belonging to the writer, which had parted company with the footings, were sold for Confed- erate money, and part of the proceeds were devoted to the purchase of a quarter of a pound of bacon, with which to season our mush. But the sight of the meat was too much for us, we could not wait the boiling of the water. Each mouth in the mess of five watered over it. It was divided into five equal bits, one to each, and sucked after the fashion of some children with stick candy. All our blandishments were exercised upon dogs roaming in the vicinit}^ of the camp to entice them in. Two blood- hounds killed in camp were hurriedly interred in an old well hole to prevent detection. When the guard came in soon after and unearthed them their carcasses were besought and refused with profane denunciations. About the middle of November, speculators from Charleston, who saw that the days of the Confederacy 76 Prisoners of War. were numbered, came up with great sums of Confederate money. This they were anxious to dispose of for sight drafts on Northern banking institutions, at the rate of two dollars for one in greenbacks, and six dollars for one in gold. Outside the rate of exchange was fifteen dollars for one in greenbacks and lifty dollars for one in gold. Oar necessities made us eager to accept even a shave of this kind, for it as gave us new lease on life; and while few or none of us had any money on deposit any- where, we yet remembered the names of banking corpo- rations to draw on, which answered every purpose. Means were thus supplied to purchase articles of diet at the sutler's, without which many must soon have succumbed. Sweet-potatoes could be had for §35 per bushel in Confed- erate money; beef, $4 per pound; pork or bacon, $7 per pound; eggs, $10 per dozen; soda, $15 per pound; salt, $2 per pound ; pepper, $35 per pound ; wheat bread, $1.50 per loaf ; chickens, $10 each; pumpkins, $6; shoes, $100 per pair. In three or four weeks after our introduction to Camp Sorghum, they gave us eight axes and ten shovels, with which 1,500 men were to construct themselves quarters. To this end one hundred at a time were permitted to go out into the woods, under guard and under pai-ole, to fell trees. Those who had any Confederate money clubbed together and bought axes at an expense of $50 each. The axes were put into the hands of expert woodmen, who did the cutting, whilst the others did the carrying and clearing away. The trees, after being felled, were cut into lengths of eight feet and split. The hovels, or " dug-outs," were generally made about eight feet square upon the outside, though upon the inside, taking into account the " lap " of the lo2:s at the ends, they were about six feet ; for the accommodation of five or six persons. When we disposed ourselves to Prisoners of War. 77 sleep, with the bare ground for a floor, we had to lie upon our sides, packed in like sardines in a box, and no one could turn over unless the whole party did likewise. In the construction, the ground was first excavated two or three feet deep over a surface about six feet square, then split logs were piled up two or three feet higher, flush with the sides of the excavation, and the removed dirt piled up outside against the logs. One side was filled in with a chimney built of bowlders gathered from a ravine, of clay and small sticks. The object of the excavation and bank- ing up was to make the most of the building material, to increase the warmth, and to afford protection against the artillery in case its fire should be opened upon the camp, as sometimes threatened. Besides, too, for the security of our lives, it was important to be well fortified against the bullets which passed very freely through the camp on dark nights when prisoners would run the guard line. One side of the structure was finished to a gable, and the opposite gable was formed by the chim- ney. A ridge pole connected the gables at the height of about seven feet from the floor. The roof of the struct- ure, generally, was formed of a motley patchwork of blankets, meal bags, canvas, ponchos, thatch, and mud, or whatever we could secure that could be adapted to the purpose. A little hole, about two feet square, was left for a door, which was closed by a fabric of some kind to keep out the weather. Some of the hovels were entirely sub- terraneous, except the roof, and occasionally persons moving about the camp on dark nights fell through these gauzy coverings to their own great consternation and that of the inmates, which latter usually fared the w-orst from such unceremonious intrusions. ISTot a few of the dwellings were made of poles set upright, inchned together at the top, and thatched with pine boughs and mud. Some, too, were constructed entirely of mud. In dry weather the thatched and mud huts excluded frosts and chilling winds, but during rains they always leaked badly, and poured over the inmates streams of dirty water. There v/ere three or four quite comfortable cabins, about sixteen 78 Prisoners of War. feet square, floored and roofed with clapboards, which had been built by oflicers from the lumber regions who had procured axes of their own. ISTo order was observed in the location of the habitations. They were placed so closely and irregularly that the only approach to a pass- age way through the camp was an old road which through years of travel and washings had been worn somewhat below the surface of the surrounding ground. Even this narrow avenue had been obstructed in places by huts, so that it was a matter of great difficulty to find the way through the encampment at night. During the first of our stay we suffered greatly for water, because only a few were allowed to go out at a time, under guard to the brook. Afterward the guard line was extended across the water-course in the day time, and we took good care to have a supply on hand at night. Common decency was outraged in the arragements for the disposition of our excrement. A space about one hun- dred feet square, adjacent to the most thickly crowded portion of the camp, was set apart as a place of deposit, no sinks being dug. This was surrounded by a guard, and the number permitted to go out at a time was limited. Consequently there was always a long line awaiting their turns, and as diarrheal disorders were rife, the distress may be imagined. We scratched over dirt after the cus- tom of animals, but the rapidly increasing accumulations of 1,400 men made an oozing, reeking mass, which sickened even the stolid guards. It was horrible to be obliged to visit the place in the day time, and at night the unfortunate who had to go in there came out in the most revolting plight. It was only when the spot became too noisome for the Confederates themselves that sinks were dug at the lower end of the camp. While here some " hundred days " officers, captured by Early in his invasion of Maryland, were brought in. They were met at the sally-post, as Avere all new arrivals, with shouts of "fresh fish;" "don't rob them;" "don't eat them;" "keep your hands off;" "don't club them;" " keep your lice otF," etc. Some one asked to what com- Prisoners of War. 79 OF "FRESH FISH" AT MACON. mand they belonged, and when answered " To the hun- dred days troops," re- sponded, " Well, you are in now for one hun- dred years, at least." As they gazed about upon the ragged, bare- footed, dirty, un- kempt, cadaveric, and howling crowd of mis- erables, their counte- nances betokened that the words had sunken deep into their hearts. The escapes from the prisons of Richmond, Macon, Savannah, and Charleston were extremely few, so closely were we guarded. In moving from place to place on the railroad, a great many escapes were made by sawing holes in the bottom of the cars, slipping through and making off when a halt was made at night. Many, too, would boldly jump oft' of the train in motion in broad dajdight and run for it. So great was the distance to our lines that only the few succeeded in getting through. The majority were returned at periods varying from a few days to a month. At Columbia, escapes were made by the wholesale, one hundred at a time. It was the custom to let a hundred in one party, under parole, go out into the woods after wood. While this squad was out another hundred would form in line at the dead line awaiting their turn. These would often be alloAved to pass out be- fore the others had returned. Then a hundred, who had given no parole, Avould form in line, and confusing the guard in regard to the squads that had passed in and out, they would also be allowed to move out. When the woods were reached, they secreted themselves in de- pressions which they had covered over with brush, and when night came they struck out for freedom. Parties also, who had gone out on parole as they came back with wood, called the attention of the guard to some 80 Prisoners of War. peculiarity of their persons or clothing so that he could identify them, saying that they would immediately pass out again and did not wish to lose time by being stopped. They would then go in, take up their paroles from the officer, pass the guai'd again, and so escape. Guards were also bribed and tlieir beats run on dark nights. Several prisoners were shot at Columbia while running the guard line. Most of the prisoners were so poorly shod and clothed and so weak that they had no hope of escape when they did get out. Nevertheless, they improved every opportunity to obtain a breath of free air, even though it might be but for an hour and at great per- sonal hazard. Blood-hounds were made use of to trace prisoners. Lieutenant Edward A. Parker, of the 1st Ver- mont Heavy Artillery, died at Columbia from injuries in- flicted by these savage beasts, and recaptured prisoners were brought back to the same place, whose flesh had been lacerated by the teeth of these brutes. About day- light one morning two blood-hounds, lashed together, were brained with axes inside of our camp, whence they had been placed in order to get the scent. Captain James T. Morgan, of the 17th Michigan Infantry, had a shoe with a good sole upon his right foot, and the writer was equally blessed as regarded his left pedal extremity. It was proposed that cuts should be drawn to determine which should have both shoes, in order that one might be properly equipped for escape. Captain Morgan was the lucky man, and the next day he made his escape. He floated down the San- tee river by night in skiffs, upon boards, logs, rails, or any piece of wood he could secure for a float. By day he lay concealed in thickets. His privations were very great, but he finally suc- ceeded in reaching the *'~"-'^-^*p<2a*j< United States gunboat stationed oft" the mouth of that Prisoners of War. 81 stream. In Captain Morgan were combined rare graces of mind and person. He had but just passed the age of man- hood, and looked forward to the life before him with highest hope. Unfortunately, he did not long survive his escape. The cause of his death is not known, but it waij probabl}'^ from disease contracted in prison. 6 82 Frisoners of War. CHAPTER XI. , Murder of Prisoners — Offers of Work — Tub Test of Prison Life — Captain Dygert — General Stoneman — Eelief for the Mind — Sources of Comfort. EVERAL prisoners were shot down in cold blood at Macon and Columbia, simply be- cause some of the guards wanted to kill a "Yankee." On the 12th of June, 1864, at Macon, Lieutenant Otto Grierson, of the 45th New York Infantry, while at the spring getting water, in the night, was fired upon by the guard and killed. The guard claimed that the lieutenant was en- deavoring to escape ; but several prisoners who were near him asserted emphatically that he was at least sixteen feet from the "dead line," and was at the spring solely for the purpose of procuring water. It was only a few weeks before this that a guard, a boy scarcely large enough to handle a musket, fired upon Lieutenant H. P. Barker, of the 1st Rhode Island Cavalry. In answer to the lieuten- ant's qucr}' as to what he was shooting at, the youthful miscreant responded that he was shooting at him for put- ting his hand on the dead line. Another guard in the vicinity went up to the boy, gave him a good shaking, called him a young scoundrel, and said that he (the boy) knew that the officer was not anywhere near the dead line. At Columbia, the writer was quartered upon the cast side of the camp, near the " dead line." When we were possessed of any wood, we usually built a little fire on the cool evenings, about fifty feet from the guard and in full view, and sat around it. On the evening of the 20th of October, as we were enjoying ourselves as well as wc could, a shot was fired, w^hicli struck Lieutenant Young, of the 4th Pennsylvania Cavalry, one of the Prisoners of War. 83 writer's messmates, who immediately fell over in the death aa:ony, shot through the heart. We were sitting alongside, upon the side of the fire opposite to the guard, and in its full light. The guard claimed that his gun had heen discharged accidentall}', whilst he was replacing a cap. It, how- ever, seems rather singular that the man who afforded the most conspicuous mark at the only fire along that line should have been stricken to the heart by an accidental shot. Also at Columbia, in the forenoon of the 1st of De- cember, Lieutenant Turbane, of the 66th New York In- fantry, who was paroled to go out for wood, took an ax and proceeded across the " dead line " toward the woods. He was halted by the guard and ordered back, which or- der he promptly obej'ed. The guard waited until he had recrossed the "dead line" and passed into camp, when he drew up his musket and shot the officer in the ~ — ~ ^ back, killing him in — stantly. This murder _ ^ was committed by a man bearing the name of "Williams, of Williams's Battalion of South Caro Una Reserves. We rose up as one man in condemnation of this act, and demanded of the commandant the punishment of the murderer, coupled with the intimation that it would not be safe for him within the precincts of the camp. The only answer returned was the sending in of this man the next morning with a strong guard to drive us out to roll-call. At the same time, the guards were under arms and the artillery manned. It was evidently the intention, by such a proced- ure, to provoke an attack upon the murderer, and thus precipitate a general massacre of the prisoners. When 3«W^ S^ 84 Prisoners of War. the escapes had become so numerous and frequent as to attract attention, the system of paroling for wood supply- was stopped, and, as a substitute, a wood guard of about eighty men were thrown around the woods for two hours each day, and all in the camp were permitted to go out for wood. One day, Lieutenant T. K. Eckings, of the 3d New Jersey Infantry, learned from one of these wood guards where he would be stationed for camp guard at night. For a certain sum in Confederate money, he agreed to let the officer pass over his beat that night and escape. The money was paid to him, and signals were arranged between them, so that there might be no mis- take on the part of either. The guard went in and re- ported the arrangement to head-quarters. Instead of giving the guard instructions to warn off the prisoner, they changed his beat, communicated the signals to the guard substituted for him, told him to answer the signals, and, when the officer came up to cross the beat, to shoot him. The guard carried out his orders to the letter. He answered the hail of the lieutenant, and shot him dead as he went up toward him. The rebel prison officials were greatly elated over this murderous deed. They seemed to think that, in thus entrapping a prisoner to his death, they had done a highly virtuous act, demonstrated the in- corruptibility of the guards, and deterred the prisoners from any further assaults upon their cupidity. It was only another instance of their duplicity, and showed that it was not prudent to make pajmient in advance for any service engaged. In none of the cases above mentioned, was any investigation made or a guard punished. On the contrary, it was told us by the guards themselves that such deeds were rewarded by promotion or furlough. Though the " Yankee " was much despised, he was yet held in great esteem, because of his capacity as a worker. Various offers of work outside were made to us. At Co- lumbia, inducements of good wages, plenty of food and clothing, and the freedom of the place, were tendered to any who would engage to work in a Confederate arms factory. We were as nearly starved at Columbia as at Prisoners of War. 85 any place, yet no one was found who would accept such employment. The histoi-y of the " Five Hundred " evi- dences that some declined, not because they were re- strained by any principle, but rather on account of a wholesome fear they entertained of " Uncle Sam." If any had gone out to such dut}^ it would, as a matter of course, have been known. The penalty, in all probability, would have been dismissal from the service, with forfeiture of all pay and allowance, and a refusal to exchange them. They might be recreant to the "Five Hundred" for con- siderations of personal advantage, since there might be lacking positive proof of their delinquency, and, besides, they were placed out of the reach of harm. But they could not go out to work for the Confederacy without certain knowledge of it reaching the government, and vengeance was sure to fall upon them. This also shows what little weight attaches to an oath. Where lionor and truth are not inbred, no form of oath, however much it may be hedged about by oak and iron plates, will keep a man from violating it, especially where it seems to conflict with his interests to observe it. The privations of prison life try the metal of an indi- vidual as nothing else can. They bring out in bold re- lief all the littleness and meanness of human nature. The great majority of those who, subject to the ordinary con- ditions of earthly existence, are properly considered as high-minded, honorable persons, prove wanting in the balance under the burden of this test. But, while the ma- jority of men retrograde, gravitate, in states of extreme de- privation, toward the purely animal type, there are many who uphold the idea of a divine special creation in the most exalted probity or conduct and dignity of bearing under any and all trials. Among these was Captain Kin. S. Dy- gert, commanding a company of sharpshooters attached to the Sixteenth Michigan Infantry. The writer knows nothing of his civil history, oi' his family or relatives, or whether he be living or dead — likely dead, as nineteen years have played sad havoc with ex-prisoners of war, the 86 Prisoners of War. greater number having passed over to the " silent ma- jority." He bore his part in all the battles of the Penin- sula, the second Bull Kun, Fredericksburg, Antietam, and Chancellorsville. He w^as engaged with his command in that terrible hand-to-hand struggle for the possession of Little Round Top at Gettysburg, which position they won, turning the tide of battle, and saving the day for the Union cause. Wherever bloody work was done in the Army of the Potomac — and no where was more of it done — there was the Sixteenth Michigan, with its com- pany of sharpshooters. On the third day at Gettysburg — the 3d of July, 1863 — in one of the desperate charges of the enemy to retrieve their fortunes. Captain Dygert was borne back in the receding mass of gray coats a prisoner of war. At Columbia he received, in some way, from a Michigan state agent, a small amount of Confederate mone}', with instructions to distribute it to the most needy Michigan officers there. The captain himself was as needy as any. He was an old prisoner, ravaged by scurvy, and nearly naked. He might have kept all the money, as some others would have done, and applied it to the re- lief of his own necessities. Yet, it Avas said, that, in min- istering to his suffering companions, he entirely over- looked his own wants, and kept nothing for himself. Surely such a man is but " little lower than the angels." It is not known whether he had any religious creed ; presun;- ably, he could swear quite equal to an old English buc- caneer, if occasion arose for it, but if there is no heaven for him, then even the wholly righteous may well be troubled with doubts. To the credit of American manhood in par- ticular, and that of the race in general. Captain Dygert's was by no means an isolated instance of self-abnegation. There were many who made sacrifices for others whose good deeds and examples were as green spots in a desert. One of those who by example proclaimed himself a gen- uine man was Major-General George 11. Stoneman. He was captured near Macon, Georgia, and imprisoned in the work-house at Charleston, S. C. To an offer of parole. Prisoners of War. 87 with good quarters and privileges, he returned a refusal, saying that he held it to be his duty to use every means in his power to escape, and it would therefore be criminal in him voluntarily to place fetters upon his limbs. Our minds were relieved from the contemplation of our condition, by constant rumors of an exchange of prison- ers, and I)}- a consideration of events transpiring in the outside world. Our knowledge of outside matters was de- rived from Confederate newspapers smuggled in by guards, from direct communication with guards and negroes, and from new prisoners brought in from time to time. The rebel newspapers displayed a marvelous ingenuity in sub- stituting fiction for truth. According to them, all engage- ments of the contending armies resulted in the most sig- nal successes for the Confederates. One of the papers, figuring up Sherman's losses in the campaign to Atlanta, gave a sum total of seven hundred and fifty thousand "Yankee vandals" and "Dutch mercenaries" slain by southern valor. Calculating previous losses, and review- ing the population of the North and Germany, it was con- cluded that the supply was about exhausted, and that the struggle must soon terminate in favor of the South. Nev- ertheless, we found a great deal of satisfaction from their perusal, because we always assumed that while their war news was founded upon a basis of fact, in order to arrive at the true understanding, it was necessarv to give it a di- rectly opposite interpretation from what its reading indi- cated. Not a few of the guards were genuine Union men who had gone into the Confederate army to escape a worse fate. Not only at the extreme South, but also at the front at the time of capture. Union men were discovered in the Confederate uniform. Such men did every thing they could for us without bringing suspicion upon themselves. They often brought us the most encouraging reports, and they were, generally reliable. Much was also obtained from the negroes, when unobserved intercourse could be had with them. They were all true to the Union, but their general knowledge being limited, only intelligence of local 88 Prisoners of War. affairs could be gained from them. The new arrivals brought us up in the history of the times to the date of their own capture, which latter mishap constituted, of course, the crowning event of the iiari-ative. Prisoners oj War. 89 CHAPTER XII. Prisoners in Columbia Jail — A Loyal Lady — Building A Bridge — One too Many — Misrepresentations — En- deavors TO Inflame Prisoners against Their Govekn- MENT — The Food Question — Retaliation— The Facts in Reference to Exchange of Prisoners — Balloting FOR Presidential Candidates. ESIDES the prisoners at Camp Sorghum there were Union officers confined in the Columbia jail. Among these was Captain R. Gr. Rich- ards, of the 49th Pennsylvania infantry, now lieutenant-governor of Ohio, who has kindly furnished the following interesting sketch of his confine- ment : " From July until December of 1864, about one hundred and fifty Union prisoners were confined in the Richland county jail, Columbia, S. C, two-thirds of which number were packed in the cells of the second story. The treat- ment received by the prisoners was similar to that at Libby, Macon, and other places, under the charge of that heart- less wretch and prison fiend, General Winder. Such treat- ment would, if it had been possible, have starved out all hope and patriotism. But the indomitable will and un- flagging determination to outlive the Confederacy, kept the prisoners hopeful and in comparatively good cheer, notwithstanding the privations and hardships to which they were exposed. It is worthy of remark, how our spirits were exalted by the perusal of a newspaper. In spite of the vigilance of the guards, we were often supplied with newspapers, from which we could glean an idea of the progress of our armies, and especially of ' Sherman's march to the sea,' which the southern press characterized as the retreat of Sherman before the superior skill and prowess of the southern generals. Good 90 Prisoners of War. news would always make us bappy and buoyant, which feeling we manifested by singing the ' Star ISpangled Ban- nor,' 'Hail Columbia,' and other national airs. This al- ways roused the ire of Captain Senn (the commandant of the post) and his rebel cohorts. Every day orders were given peremptorily to ' stop that air singin,' but every lit- tle while our vocal organs would become unmanageable and the music would break out afresh with renewed vigor. There were hearts in Columbia, outside of those prison walls, which throbbed to the music of the Union. On the opposite side of the street to the jail was a little, one-story cottage, ' neat and clean,' through the window of which we could see a young lady waving a white handkerchief, manifesting that ' those were her sentiments, too,' and that she would gladly, if she could, join in the chorus. God bless her, wherever she may be. " The thought uppermost in the minds of the prisoners was to devise ways and means of escape, and their inge- nuity and engineering skill were always exercised in that direction. In a short time after we were incarcerated in that filthy den, two of our number were enabled to es- cape, one very dark night, by being let down out of the front window onto the sidewalk below, and within ten feet of a guard, who stood in the recess of the main entrance. One (Lieutenant Williams) arrived safely within our lines near Beaufort, S. C. The fate of the other is unknown. They were let down by a sort of wooden rope, made by tying together strips of wood. ISTot long after that, we turned our attention to bridge building as a means of es- cape. A small house stood within about twelve feet of Columbia jail, separated by an alley or passage way. The comb of the roof was about on a level witli the win- dow sill of the second story of the jail. By getting upon that roof, it would be possible to slide down into the back yard out of sight of the guards; and this was only to be accomplished bj' bridging the chasm. Accordingly, one dark and rainy night, when all was very quiet outside, we constructed a bridge out of two long strips of wood and the boards which made our bunks. The structure, al- Prisoners of War. 91 though very shaky, was strong enough to bear the weight of one man at a time. All was made ready, and slowly and silently we shoved out the bridge until the outer end rested upon the roof of the small house. One prisoner was crawling out upon the structure to cross over, when the moon betrayed us by looking through a rift in the clouds just at the time the guard relief was coming on. The appearance of the celestial luminary and the discovery of the bridge by the guard were simultaneous. Imme- diately, without unnecessary noise, the whole guarding force was drawn up in line within sure range of the bridge, where they stood, cocked and primed, ready to riddle the first Yankee head that should make its appearance. They were seemingly unaware of the fact that we too had made a discovery. Quietly and slowly the bridge was drawn in, so that they could not see it move, until it was brought in far enough to balance it, when the external end was elevated and it was brought in on the run. As the end of the bridge went up into the air, a volley of mus- ketry from the guards fol- lowed it ; and next, their fire was turned against the window, which was shat- tered into fragments. While this was going on, we sliouted and cheered, protected by the brick wall. It was evident that consternation and dismay had taken pos- session of the gallant (!) band below. In about half an hour, the door of our prison opened, and in came Captain Senn at the head of an armed squad, with bayonets fixed, upon a tour of investigation. By tliis time, however, Ave were all, of course ! fast asleep, some snoring lustily. Finally, after an application of the commandant's boot to the sleeping forms of those he first encountered, all woke up with much surjarise, and asked, ' What on earth is the matter?' ' Matter enough,' was the reply. ' Whar's that 92 Prisoners of War. air bridge?' '"What bridge? What do we know about a bridge?' The bridge had been taken apart as soon as drawn in, and each one had his piece of board fitted in his bunk. After many questions, with answers that did not suit, we were drawn up in two ranks to be counted. Some one in the rear rank managed to make his appearance in two places, and was counted twice. This was too much for the even (!) temper of Captain Senn. 'What does this mean?' he yelled at the top of his voice. ' Whar did that air extra man come from?' One of the prisoners then announced to him, by way of expla- nation, that it was a fact that an outsider had got in. A man, he said, had climbed onto the roof of the small building with a laddei-, and asked to be taken in. He had heard so much of the luxuries and comforts of Columbia jail that he desired admittance. Accordingly, he had thrown his ladder across the alley to the jail window, and they had pulled him in, and that was all there was of it. The captain with his guard at once abandoned the inves- tigation ; but, by the way they snarled and growled a^ they moved away, it was evident that they did not con- sider themselves wiser, however much they might be madder, men." The Confederates endeavored to imbue us with the idea that our government was responsible for the cessation of the exchange of prisoners, and therefore for the condition of the Union prisoners of war in the South, since the Confederacy did not possess the provisions to subsist them. This was reiterated to us over and over again by officers and citizens who visited us. At Macon Catholic priests came in who gave, us vivid accounts of the sufter- ings and privations of our enlisted men at Andersonville and other places, and urged us to take some action look- ing to their relief. We were at a loss what to do, since we were not so vastly better off, but we were relieved from our dilemma by our considerate prison commandant in the timely suggestion that we should send a request to the Confederate secretary of war to permit a delegation of our number to visit Andersonville and afterward report Prisoners of War. 93 to our government. But it was stipulated, in advance of investigation, that the petition should contain an acknowl- edgment that the Confederacy was in nowise responsible for their horrible condition. This proposition was very promptly declined, although perhaps a few individuals did append their names to such a paper, from which nothing was ever heard. We were willing to stay there and rot before we would become particeps criminis in any such outrageous proceeding. Still, such misrepresentations were not without their efltect. Sometimes very bitter talk was heard from prisoners respecting the attitude of our goverument, and Secretary Stanton in particular was unsparingl}' denounced. Rumors of a formidable organi- zation at Andersonville, sworn to assassinate him, were rife, together with the existence of a body of prisoners in our own camp similarly pledged against the great war secretary. The plea that they had no food with which to supply their pi'isoners was a poor one. Whenever we had any money to buy food of a sutler, in whose gains the prison autliorities shared, there was no lack of it. They had no scarcity of corn meal, bacon, beef, sweet potatoes, beans, onions, pumpkins, salt and soda, and these were all we needed. Their Confederate money would buy these articles, and it was of no use for any thing else, since it had no value outside of the Confederacy. Surely they could not plead a poverty of this currency when they had at Columbia scores of printing presses turning it out by the millions daily, and hundreds of young women engaged solely in attaching the signatures of the treasury officials. In marked contrast was the action of the United States government toward the prisoners in its keeping. Those prisoners who, after exchange, appeared before the mem- bers of the U. S. Senate Committee on Prisoners of War, thought they knew just what was best to be done to secure good treatment for our captive soldiers in the South. When asked what in their opinion would most contribute to their relief, the ready answer was, "Retalia- tion in kind." But the chairman, bluff Senator Ben 94 Prisoners of War. Wade, speaking for the committee, truly said that no government could stand the odium of such an act ; that it would become accursed of God and man, and would perish from the earth. We had a very good knowledge of the facts bearing upon exchange, which were as follows: In December, 1863, the United States government proposed to exchange man for man and officer for officer. This was agreed to as regards white troops, but the Confederate government refused to recognize captured negro troops and officers as prisoners of war subject to exchange. This acted as a bar until the 10th of August, 1864, when the Confederates accepted the Union terms. Hereupon commenced a slow exchange, mostly of sick and wounded. The United States government, however, would not at that time enter upon a general exchange, for the following valid reasons : General Sherman was then in the heart of Georgia, mov- ing in the direction of the rebel prisons, with a good prospect of liberating the bulk of the Union prisoners. The Union prisoners held in the South were all unfit for service from starvation and exposure, while the Confeder- ate prisoners in the North were able-bodied and in prime condition to take the field. An exchange under such cir- cumstances w:ould furnish to the Confederates gratuitously a splendid army of fighting men. To do so at such a crit- ical period of the war would be to prolong the struggle at an inestimable sacrifice of blood and treasure, and to put in greater je'opardy the life of the nation. Under date of August 14, 1864, General Grant telegraphed General But- ler, the United States commissioner for exchange: "It is hard on our men held in southern prisons not to exchange them, but it is humane to those left in the ranks to fight our battles. If we now commence a S3'stem of exchange which liberates all prisoners taken, we shall have to fight on until the whole South is exterminated. If we hold those captured, they count for more than dead men." Accordingly General Butler, under instructions from the*^ War Department, notified Judge Ould, the Confederate Prisoners of War. 95 exchange commissioner, tliat all negotiations having refer- ence to a general exchange were indefinitely suspended. Notwithstanding the desperate straits to which they were reduced, and the agencies and influences employed to ensnare them, the true soldiers of the Union repelled with indignation all reflections upon the attitude of their government in respect to the cartel. As long as they could best serve the interests of their government in those loathsome prison hells, they could suffer and die without a murmer. The only complaints they uttered were that their government provided bountifully for the Confederate prisoners of war in its keeping, and thereby was in a measure responsible for the cruelties of the Confederate prison authorities. From their point of view, retaliatory measures were absolutely essential to induce a more toler- able treatment for themselves. Therefore when retaliatory procedures were not put in operation it seemed to be giv- ing license to the rebel oflacials to go to any lengths they chose in their savagery. It was decided to take a ballot for the presidential can- didates, Lincoln and McClellan, on the 17th of October, 1864. The rebel officials seemed to be greatly interested in this election. They told us that they would publish the result in the Columbia newspapers. At the same time they commented upon the cessation of exchange, which they represented as wholly due to the determination of " the Lincoln government to make a nigger better'n a white man." Great sympathy was expressed for us, the old story of having done every thing possible for us was reiterated, and lavish promises as to future comforts and supplies were uttered. Nothwithstanding their contrary wishes, Mr. Lincoln received 1,02-4 votes against 143 for McClellan, the total votes numbering 1,167 out of 1,382 reported as present in camp. About the same time, elec- tions held by the Union prisoners at Florence, S. C, and and Millen, Ga., showed a decided preference for Mr. Lincoln. The results of these bailotings never appeared in the southern papers, since such intelligence was en- 96 Prisoners of War. tirely the reverse of what they would have wished to dis- seminate. The two hundred officers who failed to vote were probably those who would not vote for McClellan, and yet declined to indorse Lincoln's administration by reason of dissatisfaction concerning exchange. Prisoners of War. 97 CHAPTER XTII. Sympathy op Southern People and Troops for Prison- ers — Abiding Guests — Gray Backs, Travelers — Clothing — Repairs and Washing — Cooking and Cook- . iNG Utensils • — Diseases — Homesickness — Sanitary Regulations — Distribution of Rations — Diversions — Music — "Sherman's March to tuk Sea." LARGE portion of the Southern people had no knowledge of the cruelties and privations to vphich Union prisoners were subjected. Every-where we went it was patent that the citizens outside were ready and anxious to aiford us relief if it had been permitted by the authorities. From escaped prisoners many statements have been re- ceived that pronounced secessionists, by whom they were recaptured, were very commisserate when they noticed their condition and heard the stories of their treatment. In not a few instances they again released them and gave them means to help them on their way. These facts have been derived from the personal narratives of recapt- ured prisoners with whom we have conversed, and they are verified by the published accounts of otlier escaped prisoners. Even the Texas Rangers, who recaptured some of the escaped prisoners, were moved to pity for them and treated them with great consideration. At Savannah, where we fared better than at any other place in the Confederacy, we were guarded by the 1st Georgia Regiment of infantry, the members of which had been prisoners of war in the hands of the United States forces. They had been well cared for as prisoners, and we were furnished with a good living ration as long as they had us in charge. They addressed us as " gentlemen." It was a military necessity which had placed -us in Savannah, and 7 98 Prisoners of War. the sentiment of the community and of the guarding force being decidedly against inhuman measures toward pris- oners, the higher powers hardly dared to run counter to it. At Charleston, also, the last place where it would be supposed that Union soldiers would find aid, we were not without assurances that, hut for the rebel authorities, our condition would have been much ameliorated through the good offices of the citizens. Near Raleigh, 'S. C, whore an exchange of prisoners was made, Captain H. P. Cooke, A. A. G., now of Cincinnati, was told by a Union officer, who witnessed it, that the well fed and clothed returned Confederates were surprised and shocked at the appear- ance and destitution of our men who had been prisoners in the South. They divested themselves of the good clothes issued to them by our government, and, as they handed them over to our nearly naked soldiers, said, " We have no right to these things; they belong to you." A Confederate officer, who was an exchanged prisoner, in a conversation with Major George B. Fox, of the 75th Ohio Infantry, remarked : '• If I had been the Confederate Com- missioner of Exchange, my regard for the reputation of the people of the South would never have permitted me to turn over such physical wrecks as your men are who have been in southern prisons, to proclaim to the world the infamous barbarity of the Confederate government." The infernal policy towai'd Union prisoners had been de- liberately devised by the Confederate executive and the war office in order to tax as much as possible the resources of the I^orth and spare their own. It was in order to re- turn to the northern people a lot of physical wrecks to be a burden upon them, while the South received in ex- change sound, able-bodied men, in prime condition to take the field and relieve worn-out troops. The excuse that their own army was upon short rations only applied after Sherman had bisected the Confederacy and destroyed lines of railroad communication and rolling stock. It did not apply before. Guests whom we had always with us demanded a por- tion of each day's time. These belonged to the ancient Prisoners of War. 99 and celebrated family, Pediculi corporis. There were two varieties — the gray backs proper, and the travelers. The gray backs need no description, they are familiar to all earn- est students of natural history. The travelers were perhaps overgrown gray backs ; possibly they were the highest de- velopment of their species in the line of the doctrine of the survival of the fittest. That they possessed a cerebral organization capable of thought seems probable, for the cool effrontery they exhibited in tormenting their hosts, could hardly have been the result of simple instinct. They were about three-sixteenths of an inch in length, had a small head and a pear-shaped body, flattened upon the upper and under surfaces. The central line of the bad-: was marked by a longitudi- nal dark gray stripe, with a sim- ilar shorter stripe upon each side. The color of the cuticle was a dirty silver gray, and it was so^ touech that only the artful masher -^ , i^ could break it without difficulty. "'^ It was principally at night that the traveler devoted himself to the entertainment of those with whom he might be sojourn- ing. The spinal column was his favorite seat. Up and down this he would wander, like a donkey in a thistle- patch, cropping a morsel here and a mouthful there. When, by this means, he had dispelled sleep, and aroused attention to his presence, he would commence a lively promenade, moving obliquely across the backbone, from one side to the other. His victim would pound upon his back with his closed fists in the hope that he might make a lucky hit and smash his tormenter. Vain hope ! The traveler had anticipated this, and when the blow fell it alwaj's found him sheltered under a projecting bony prominence, to commence again his excursion when the tempest had subsided. There was no way for it but to let this evil genius exercise his own sweet will until morning, and then — retribution ! In the morning the hunt was on. Every article of clothing was carefully peeled off, and its 100 Prisoners of War. inmost recesses thoroughly examined. If the individual was fortunate enough to possess a shirt, this garment was taken off last, and with extraordinary care, so as not to disturb the taveler. His haunts were beaten with extreme caution, for the traveler was an artful dodger, and it re- quired a quick hand to catcli him. But Avhen caught there was no dialogue with the traveler concerning the night. There was simply a quick movement of two thumbs, and the wreck of matter was the only sign of promise remaining of what might have been before. The greatest accumulation of vermin encountered was upon our flag-of-truce boat employed in the exchange of pris- oners in Charleston harbor. We were transferred to it about sundown on the lOth of December, 1864, and, being ex- hausted, we lost no time in getting into the cots provided. It took but a few minutes to discover that the cots were occupied by a living, moving mass of pedicuU capable of flaying a man alive in a short time. "We shook the bed- ding and our clothing over the boat's side into the bay, and it is no exagg-eration to say that the surface of the water was so covered by them for a considerable space around the vessel that it assumed a gray color, the " ocean blue " being entirely obscured. Having but one suit of clothes, it was worn day and night, except during the daily morning hunt. But few were provided with needles or thread or the means to pro- cure them. When repairs were necessary they were made by means of wooden needles, with strands from bagging for thread. Wooden pms supplied the place of buttons. All sorts ot material was util- ized for patches, and as these additions to the raiment increased, it became difficult to -^„ determine what con- ^^^^ stituted the original r ibric. Once in awhile, /hen a camp-ketlle could be secured, tlie clothes wei'e Prisoners of War. 101 boiled, partly to free them from dirt, but principally to effect a total destruction of vermin. During this proc- ess a blanket was girded about the waist and in this undress uniform we disported ourselves until the articles of dress were dried. When we became shirtless the only recourse was to steal a meal bag, cut a hole in the bottom for the head and neck, and holes in the sides near the bottom for the arms. The next general ration issued was short the value of a meal bag. If sleeves were desired for this neat-fitting garment, they had to be fashioned from blanket or canvas, aud were fastened on in the most varied styles of art. We got along well enough without socks, but those who were without shoes were in a sorry fix, especially when we had to move. They made such shift as they could hy tying up the feet in old leather, blankets, etc. Shoes were saved as much as possible by going barefoot about camp when the weather permitted. The only supply of any thing we received was at Columbia, where a box of unbleached cot- ton underclothing came to us from the U. S. Sanitary Commission. The most needy were thus furnished either a shirt or pair of drawers. Some of the articles seemed to have been designed simply with a view of putting the greatest quantity of material into them. They were not adapted to any shape, cither human or divine. This, how- ever, fortunately inured to our benefit, for the "slack" which could be taken out of an undershirt or pair of drawers was sufficient to make another garment or to roof a shanty. There was not much to cook, or many dishes to wash, yet a division of labor was made, and each one took his turn. All had a knife of some description, a tin cup and tin plate, or, in lieu of these, the half of a canteen, which served both as plate and cup, and also, at times, as a fry- ing and stew pan. Yet cooking was often a serious mat- ter, on account of the scarcity of utensils to cook in, or of fuel to cook with. There were only two or three axes to one hundred men, aud we often had to postpone our meals for hours in order to secure an ax with which to chop our wood. At Macon the issue of utensils to each 102 Prisoners of War. one hundred men was as follows : Five (5) Dutch ovens, with covers; fifteen (15) Dutch ovens, without covers; ten (10) one gallon and a half tin buckets; ten (10) one gal- lon tin pans ; and five (5) wooden buckets. Having thus only one Dutch oven with a cover to twenty-five men, and using them in regular order, it was requisite for each mess to cook at one time enough corn bread to last for two or three days. To prepare mush or beans, we had to make use of the tin buckets, and, as turns had also to be ob- served with these things, there could be no regularity in meals. Sometimes only one meal a day could be pre- pared; generally we were fortunate enough to get two, but it was rare, and we were very lucky when we got three daily meals. At Savannah each one hundred received: One (1) sixteen gallon iron camp kettle ; eight (8) three gallon tin pails ; eleven (11) small iron skillets ; sixteen one and a half gallon tin pans ; four wooden buclcets ; two axes, and two hatchets. Here, as nearly every mess had its brick oven, and as many had brought away from Macon skillets, pans, and buckets, in violation of orders, we got along very well, and had our meals with regularity. Ba- con was usually cooked in with the mush or beans. The corn bread was siuaply a baked mixture of corn meal, water, and salt. When baked, it was as hard as lead. Rj putting corn meal and water in a tin vessel in the sun, an acetous fermentation was induced, forming a sort of sponge, which, mixed with the bread, gave it lightness through the evolvement of carbonic acid during the bak- ing. But this made the bread sour and nauseous. When we could obtain soda, the acidity could be neutralized, and a fairly light, palatable pone was the result. Always, upon leaving a prison, the order was to leave all camp equipage behind which had been issued to us. If we had obeyed this order, we should have been without any cook- ing apparatus at Charleston and Columbia. We, however, had a weather eye to the future. One would roll up a camp kettle in his blanket, another a Dutch oven, another a pail, etc. The individuals who bore off these imple- ments acquired, in this way, a vested right in them, and Prisoners of War. 103 their disposition thereafter went hy favor, and not by rule. Our mess was fortunate enough to have thus se- cured the right of eminent domain over a Dutch oven and camp kettle lugged all the way from Savannah. The latter end of November, we procured some Confederate money on sight drafts, and what a feast the Dutch oven enabled us to prepare ! Roast beef and sweet potatoes, and oh, ye gods, meat gravy thickened with flour ! We clung to these household gods by fastening them to us whilst we slept. The principal diseases were diarrhea, dysentery, scurvy, consumption, or inanition, and at Columbia some yellow fever, with plenty of intermittent fever and rheumatism. There was no medical treatment, except at Macon, where an assistant surgeon. Dr. John Nickerson, of a Connecti- cut regiment, had a supply of blue mass, which he dis- pensed with impartial hand to the afflicted, regardless of the disease. There were hospitals outside of the camp, where they professed to give attention to the sick, but no one went out to them until he felt ready to die. It was the common impression that death was the lot of all who went into the hospital. Home sickness was a very preva- lent disease, and it often proved fatal. Men talked inces- santly about their homes, vainly waiting and watching for intelligence. They lost appetite, began to pine, become feverish, and if they were not succored by vigorous treat- ment, were finally taken out to the hospital, almost cer- tainly to die. The active treatment was administered by the sufferer's messmates, and consisted of measures calcu- lated to arouse his ire and thirst for vengeance. A coun- cil would be held over the patient, the conclusion reached that he was a doomed man, and that, as he was about to be removed to the hospital, where he was likely to jdeld up the ghost very soon, and as his bodily effects would there be seized upon by strangers, whereas it was only in accordance with the "eternal fitness of things" that his friends should possess them — they would then and there proceed to despoil him. Such therapeutic means com- monly called forth a most emphatic denunciation of what 104 Frisoners of War. the Ruft'erer deemed atrocious heartlessness, and aroused within him a high resolve to live and administer upon the effects of his persecutors. This sufficed, in some instances, to cure the disease, but, where it failed, ingenuity was fer- tile iu devising other ways equally well calculated to bring about recover}'. Nevertheless, in many cases, every thing failed. The ranking officer had the direction of all inside mat- ters, as ffir as tliey related simply to the prisoners them- selves. He saw that a good internal sanitary police was maintained ; had the camp cleaned and swept, and looked to it that no accumulations of any kind were left to be- come possible disease factors. He appointed a chief com- missary and commissaries for each hundred men, who re- ceived the rations from the authorities and made an equi- table division of them. There were sub-commissaries for squads of twenty-five, Avho distributed the rations received from the company commissaries to the messes. Thus, every man received his full share of the rations, and his surroundings were made as salubrious as possible. In ad- dition to this, there was a social requirement not expressed but understood, which behooved every one to observe the greatest practicable cleanliness of person and decency of habits on pain of ostracism. Men of every avocation and profession were included among the prisoners. Instructors were found for any who wished to presecute such studies as astronomy, the various branches of the higher mathematics, logic, philosophy, physics, rhetoric, political economj^, navigation, or lan- guages, ancient or modern. The science of Hoyle, how- ever, was the subject of most study, and there were many who had advanced a few points bej'ond the master himself. From constant use, the backs of the cards became as familiar as the faces. Whist, euchre, seven-up," cribbage, and JSTot only were the games poker were the favorite games Prisoners of War. 105 engaged in for diversion, but there was also a small circle of gamblers who devoted all their otherwise unoccupied time to draw-poker for any thing they had to venture on the cards, even staking their clothes and rations. Chessmen were whittled out, and there were many earnest devotees of the noble game of chess. Checkers, as well, came in for a good share of attention. Fencing, with sticks for rapiers, was a daily exercise with a large number when the weather was not rainy. Leap frog was occasionally prac- ticed; but this and fencing were about the only physical divertisements our contracted space permitted. Besides, too, our physical condition was not such as to make very active exercise desirable. For a time, great amusement was created by forming a monstrous looking insect out of pieces of twigs, ravelings, and bits of cloth. This was suspended by a thread to the end of a stick. Some one who was taking a nap was approached from beliind, and the bogus insect swung back and forth so as to touch his face. It fairly convulsed the onlookers, to see the dazed ajitpearance of aft'right in the bulging eyes of the sleeper as he awoke, sprung into a sitting posture, and aimed fi-antic blows at the fraud. The old prisoners were soon up to the trick, and were not disturbed by it, but it never failed in its effect upon a new coiner. Once in awhile, the tedium of the camp was relieved by a tight. It was rare, though, that we were disgraced in this way b}' an ebulli- tion of passion. Music contributed not a little to please tlie soul and ob- literate environment. A glee club of splendid voices was made up of Major J. II. Isett, of the 8th Indiana Cavalry ; Captain F. A. Patterson, 3d West Virginia Cavalry ; Cap- tain E. S. Daniels, 35th U. S. C. T., and one other officer whose name is lost. At Charleston, a string band was or- ganized, and the money for the instruments — §800 in Con- federate currency — was obtained by a collection taken up among the prisoners. Lieutenant G. W. Chandler, 1st West Virginia Cavalry, had the tirst violin ; Lieutenant J. S. Manning, 116th Ohio Infantry, the second violin ; Lieu- tenant J. O. Eockwell, nith New York Infantry, the flute, 106 Prisoners of War. and Major J. E. Pratt, 4th Vermont Infantry, coaxed out the melodies from the base viol. The music furnished was not only a delight to the prisoners, but also to the guards ; and it seemed to be the only spell capable of touching the great majority of the latter. It was in prison at Colum- bia, that the famous song " Sherman's March to the Sea" was composed by Adjutant S. II. M. B3'ers, 5th Iowa In- fantry. It was set to music by Lieutenant Rockwell, of the band, and the reception it met with the first time it was ever heard, as sung by the glee club to the prisoners at Columbia, was such as must have caused the author of the song, who witnessed it, to fear that he had produced a piece destined to destroy the vocal organs and the reason of the patriotic American portion of the human family. The prisoners could not get enough of it. The glee club repeated it again and again, until the members wei-e voice- less. Men capered about like maniacs, cheering for Sher- man until exhausted. All through the night and day, the chorus would break out, spread from mouth to mouth, and continue until checked by a threat of extermination from the prison commandant. SHERMAN'S MARCH TO THE SEA. Our camp fires slaono bright on the mountains That frowned on the river l)elow, While we stood by our guns in the morning, And eagerly watched for the foe, When a rider came out from the darkness That hung over mountain and tree, And shouted, " Boys, up and be ready ; For Sherman will march to the sea." Then cheer upon cheer for bold Sherman Went up from each valley and glen, And the bugles re-echoed the music That came from the lips of the men ; For we knew that the stars on our banner More bright in their splendor would be, And that blessings from Northland would greet UB When Sherman marched d nvn to the sea. Then forward, boys, forward to battle We marched on our wearisome way; Prisoners of War. 107 And we stormed the wild hills of Ucsaca — God bless those who fell on that day ! Tlien Kenesaw, dark in its glory, Frowned down on the flag of tiio free ; But tlio East and the "West bore our standards, As Sheriiiau marched down to the sea. Still onward we pressed, till nnr banner Swept out from Atlanta's grim walls, And the blood of the patriot dampened The soil where the traitor flag falls; But we paused not to weej) for the fallen Who slept by each river and tree ; Yet we twined them a wreath of the laurel As Sherman marched down to the sea. 0, proud was our army that morning. That stood where the pine darkly towers, When Sherman said, " Boys, you are weary; This day fair Savannah is ours!" Then sang we a song for our chieftain. That echoed o'er river and lea, And the stars in our banner shone brighter When Sherman marched down to the sea. 108 Prisoners of War. CHAPTER XIV. Enrollmf.nt of Sick and Wounded for Exchange — De- parture FROM Columbia — -Branchville — A Desperate South Carolinian — Charleston — Devastation and Des- olation — Confederate Flag of Truce Boat — On Board " God's Vessel " — Enlisted Men from Andersonville — ■ Horrible Condition— Fearful Mortality on Shipboard — Admiral Porter's Fleet — The " Old Flag" Supreme and Memorial. IST the 8th of December, 1864, at Columbia, S. C, the Confederates came into camp, and went hunting around among the hovels to get a list of the sick and wounded. At hrst, they were unsuccessful, and could not find any who claimed to be sick or Avounded. It was sus- pected that, under the pretense of medical treatment, they wished to isolate the debilitated and disabled, and make life to them even more burdensome than that which they were then enduring. Ko one cared to be separated from his comrades on any uncertainties, particularly on prom- ises as unreliable as those of rebel prison otRcials. When, however, assurances were given that the list was being taken for purposes of exchange, and not for removal otherwise, there was no trouble about obtaining names. In fact, they no longer had to hunt up the disabled. Their names were brought in from all portions of the camp. Some comrade had the kindly interest to have the writer's name put down as among the wounded. Every one yearned to be maimed in some way or to be sick. AH felt that the only society worth belonging to was one composed exclusively of cripples, and they were anxious to be enrolled. Any body who had any sort of a scar, wound, or sore, sent in his name. In the meantime, they busied Prisoners of War. 109 themselves irritating old cicatrices by rubbing and jabbing with sticks so as to make a depressed and bleeding sore. Those who had a few small circular scurvy spots upon the legs reamed out the scurvy blackened tissue, claiming that the holes thus made were gunshot wounds affecting the bone and sinuses connected therewith, which had never healed. Individuals who before had good use of their limbs became suddenly very much disabled. Some hob- bled along with two canes, whilst others managed with great difficulty to get about on one. All moved with be- coming deliberation and an appearance of much suffering. All personal eifects were inventoried and placed fi,t the disposal of messmates. Every thing which could be of service to remaining comrades was turned over to them, and nothing was taken out but what barely sufficed to cover our bodies, and what the others had no desire to re- tain. In return, we received letters and messages for relatives and friends in the iforth. On the morning of the 9th, the list was read off at the sally-port to pass out to the surgeon's tent for examination. Eo one was missing, and a sad-looking procession of halt and lame moved off, amid shouts of " Good-bye " and " God bless you," to meet the searching ordeal of the surgeons. Only a few were admitted to the tent at a time. How -.--»- — many Avcre rejected, if any, is not known; but many were passed who had no disability beyond an old flesh wound which they had iritated. The deception was kept up. No one forgot his infirmity until we were safe under the sheltering folds of the stars and stripes. The party, consisting of about two hundred, left Colum- bia in the afternoon. About midnight, the train stopped at Branchville for wood and water. Here Avas located a rail- road eating-house, whose doors swung open day and night 110 Prisoners of War. for the refreshment of such hungry wayfarers as had money in their purses. To those who, for months, had lived al- most in a state of nature, the tallow candles within this by no means luxurious place of entertainment seemed to il- luminate a very paradise. The suggestions of warmth and fatness reflected by the soft mellow rays, were fraught with almost as much cheer as a glimpse of the old flag, or a sight of home. A congregation of tramps and lunch- fiends was never more moved by the vision of a free lunch establishment, nor was ever a crowd of such worthies more forlorn, unkempt, or penniless, than the body which moved* as one man from the cars into that Branchville re- freshment room. No guards were there to interpose re- straint, for we were under the sole care of a Confederate lieutenant. The boards were spread with nothing save bread crusts and what Avas contained in the castors. Never did men pound upon the tables and shout " Waiter " with greater gusto or anticipation. No waiter answered to the call. The proprietor, however, a lean, long-haired, thin- visagcd man, of medium size, clad in butternut, put in an appearance, with a Colt's navy revolver in his hand. He was not simply mad, he was furi- ous. He cursed the officer in charge, and consigned the guests to unutterable torments. Mounting a chair and brandishing his artillery, he poured out upon us volleys of epithets and denunciations, which are " for- given, if not forgotten." He declared, with a fearful oath, that no man should go out alive until five hundred dollars had been paid him for the unhallowed invasion of his premises, and that, if the money was not immediately forthcoming he was going to inaugurate an indiscriminate slaughter forthwith. Responses of — " Louder, old mush mouth," "Louder, old pudding head," "Kill us the fat- ted calf," " Bring in the best you have," " Put him in a Prisoners of War. Ill nose bag," " Cut his throat," " Stab him to the heart," etc., did not tend to soothe him in the least. He had got started, and knew not how to stop. His rage increased, and in the same ratio did the cliaifing and disorder. In the midst of the racket, Lieutenant Roach, of the 49th New York Infantry, entered tlie room. He took in the situation at a glance, and, seeing a brass faucet lying by the side of a keg, seized it. Presenting the muzzle close behind the head of the irate proprietor, he ordered him to get down and out, or sufier the penalty of having his brains blown out. The gallant South Carolinian cast a hurried glance around, his eyes appeared to expand to the size of billiard balls, and he betook himself away with tlie greatest dispatch. After picking up such " unconsidered trifles" as cruets of vinegar and pepper, together with salt and bread crusts to serve as mementoes of the place, we again embarked on board the cars, in obedience to the orders of the officer in cliarge. But the adventure had imparted a degree of hilarity which could scarcely have been furnished by a genuine " square meal." No sooner were Ave under way, tlian the lieutenant instituted a search for the " pistol " which had been displayed in the dining room. Tracing it up to Lieutenant Roach, he said to that officer, " You must hand me over the pistol you have upon your person." "A pistol ! I have no pistol; nor have I had one in my possession;" replied the officer. " But the the eating-house proprietor said that a pistol was drawn on him, and I have good evidence that you was the man who did it,"' persisted the lieutenant, " and unless you de- liver up the weapon it will be decidedly the worse for you." Thereupon, Lieutenant Roach produced the faucet, re- marking that he was loth to part with an article so efl'ect- ive as a substitute for a pistol, and yet so harmless.- The officer laughed long and heartily when he saw what an inno- cent thing had discomfited so blood-thirsty an individual. He announced his intention of taking the faucet back to Branchville with him, to show the owner with what a ter- rible instrument the " blue-bellies " had put him down. Charleston was reached the morning of the 10th, 112 Prisoners of War. There was some hitch in the exchange arrangements, so we were marched up into the city and turned loose in the City Hotel. We thus had an opportunity of viewing what had been the business and principal residence por- tion of the place. Vegetation was rank in the streets and the sidewalks were blocked with rubbish from bat- tered buildings. The wharves were rotting away, and it required \(iYy c;ireful stepping to avoid being precipitated into the water. Fine buildings had great gaping holes in them ; many were heaps of ruins. Splendid church edilices with tall steeples were riddled through and through. The building formerly occupied by the bank of South Carolina was wrecked, the elegant white marble counters shattered and surrounded by rubbish from the ceilings and walls. The City Hotel, where we were quartered, the best hotel in the city, had been deserted, evidently in a great hurry, as the furniture and table- ware had been left behind. A large ragged hole in the wall li.ick of the office desk told the story of the exodus. It was cold and we broke up the bedsteads and chairs to make iires in the grates. We also helped ourselves liber- ally to plates, cups, sauces, and other articles which might prove useful in case there should be any failure to ex- change. The clock yet hung on the wall, and if it was not carried off it was because it was too big to conceal or too heavy to carry. The city proper was deserted. There were not five thousand inhabitants in the whole place in- cluding negroes, dogs, and all. Those who formerly peopled it were living in cabins and box-cars strung along the lines of railroad toward Columbia and Savannah. About one or tw^o o'clock we were taken on board of the Confederate flag of truce vessel, a rakish looking blockiide runner, with a black hull and masts sloping very much backward. The craft was nearly new and a model of marine architecture. There was a great con- trast between it and our flag of truce boat, w hich was a sort of ferry-float. Yet the latter was regarded with much more favor by our eyes than the former. The cold sea breeze played freely through our rags and chilled us Prisoners of War. 113 to the bone. We huddled around the smoke-stacks, the furnaces, and cook's galley for warmth. A spirit of in- vestigation led us into many mysterious barrels and bunkers. As there were yet misgivings respecting ex- change, onions, potatoes, pieces of meat, etc., were put away for future reference between the skin and the shirt above the waist. Some seemed as though they had been reinforced around the girth by a growth of nodular tumors. It was, however, simply a laudable manifestation of thrift. Finally, late in the afternoon, anchors were weighed, the boats came together, and the transfer took place. \Yhat a time there was when we stood upon the deck of " God's vessel ! " Canes and staffs were thrown to the waves, former disabilities were forgotten. We cheered the flag, hugged each other, danced, howled, and cried until exhausted. Some sought hiding-places, in- fluenced by the dread reflection that a mistake might be developed and they would be taken back. A light sup- per of wheat bread and coffee was disposed of and we betook ourselves to bed. We steamed down the harbor past frowning Moultrie and shore batteries, the crumbling walls of Sumter, the grim looking monitors, and the long range guns of Morris Island, which had wrought such desolation in Charleston. All these were silent now in honor of the prisoners of war who, a few weeks before, had lived in helpless misery listening to the sound of their thunders. Six hundred en- listed men, who had been at Andersonville and other similar prison hells were exchanged with us. Many were entirely destitute of clothing, shivering in the piercing wind from the sea; and such rags as were possessed by the others were covered with creeping masses of lice. When they shook their remnants of blankets, these vermin fell off in clouds. A large number were mere emaciated skeletons. The instances were not rare where over the prominent osseous parts, as about the hips, spine, and shoulders, the bones projected bare of tissue through scurvy destroyed skin. Not less than a dozen gaping, 114 Prisoners of War. grinning idiots were seen with great, vacant, lusterless eyes sunken deep in bony sockets. The skin was like black parchment from the ravages of scurvy and the ac- cumulations of filth, while bleeding, spongy bones ap- peared upon the lower extremities where the flesh had rotted oiF. Inquiries elicited no intelligence, no response. Reason had long since fled,and beings once men only pre- served an outward form resemblance through the most feeble vital spark. The wonder was that they had any life at all. The poor starved wretches crowded and jammed about the provision-room. In their eagerness to obtain food, they were regardless of the naked bayonets of the guards. They seized upon bread and meat, ate it like famished animals, and lay down and died. The first night after exchange was spent upon the flag- of-truce boat. The next day a transfer was made to the good ship, Northern Light, outside the bar, which lay over one night before sailing north. During this time more than one hundred of these enlisted men died and their bodies were committed to the sea. On the way up to Annapolis over one hundred more gave up their hold on life and were tossed overboard. One hundred more died shortly after arrival at Annapolis, and of the remainder, less than three hundred, it is not probable, that as many as seventy-five were ever restored to a sound state of physical being. Calloused as we were, inured to scenes of hardship, suffering, and horror, one visit to the hold of the Northern Light, in which these poor victims of inhuman barbarity lay, was as much as we could en- dure. The smell of gangrene and foul discharges, the groans and wails of the poor suiFerers, was overpowering. There is no reward in this life adequate for the minister- ing angels who waited on them, in the form of surgeons, hospital stewards, and nurses, in as kindly a manner as if they were princes of royal blood or crowned kings. We passed Admiral Porter's fleet under way to the bombardment of Fort Fisher. If good wishes could aid any in the enterprise, we sent out to the armament all the reinforcement of this kind to be desired. Fort Fisher Prisoners of War. 115 was captured, counting one in a succession of brilliant victories, under which the sun of the Confederacy declined lower and lower, finally to set forever at Bentonville. Once more the old flag waved in supremacy over the whole country. Under the shadow of its folds the dead who cherished it rest well in southern climes. It floats there as a memorial of them, no less than of the majesty of the great Republic in emblemizes, in accordance with the last wish that many of them gasped with their expiring breath. And there it will continue to be dis- played, a thing of beauty and a joy to all right-minded men, as long as patriotism and human sympathy find lodgment in the hearts of the people of the nation. 116 Prisoners of War. CHAPTER XV. Contrast between the Officers and Enlisted Men — Con- dition OF Enlisted Men at Andersonville — Known Deaths among the Union Officers — Inaccuracy of the Eebel Returns of Deaths — General Mortality op Union AND Confederate Officers — Union Officers Killed by Guards — Interment of Union Officers. T is in order now briefly to allude to the dif- ferences in the physical state and appearance of the Union officers and enlisted men who ^ f*^:^^:^^ were prisoners of war in the Confederacy; lvt,--^^^&i- to present such mortality records and esti- mates as are available, and unquestionably applicable, to officers who were prisoners of war, both Qnion and Con- federate, and, finally, to exhibit the manner in which the humane government of the United States treated rebel officers (as well as enlisted men), prisoners of war in its hands. There was a marked contrast between the Union officers and enlisted men, as regards their physical condition, when brought together for exchange. In making a comparison it is proper to consider what was common to both, or operative solely upon either, and to present the men simply as they were, under the influences to which they were subject — the officers having already received consid- eration. The state of the officers was wretched enough, shock- ing enough to call forth universal execration upon those who were accountable for it; but the plight of the men was so much more repulsive, so sickening, and terrible, as to make comparison appear strained. On the one hand were sallow, emaciated, scurvy-spotted, enfeebled men ; on the other, nearly naked shapes of men which appeared to Prisoners of War. 117 have been resurrected after long burial and to have had the breath of life infused. Those who have not seen such creatures are not prepared to credit the statements re- specting them. Exaggei-ation is impossible on the part of those whose sight has been afflicted by the dread reali- ties of vision which have passed beneath flags of truce and been received on hospital ships. The difference was not brought about by a poorer ration allowance, for this, from the information obtained from the men, and from their pub- lished narratives, was about the same in kind, quantity, and quality as the officers received, with the exception of the generous ration supplied to those who were confined at Savannah. Yet the officers' ration in Charleston jail- yard and at Columbia was not equivalent to that received by the enlisted men at Andersonville. The greater degree of suffering, disease encroachment, and mortality pertain- ing to the men must be ascribed to foul water, overcrowd- ing, lack of shelter, absence of internal organization, order, and sanitation, and inability to secure the means to pur- chase vegetables, rather than to any essential variation in the rations issued by the Confederates to the two classes. The officers, save during railroad journeys, and in Charles- ton jail, jail-yard, and work-house, were rarely so crowded as to be seriously discommoded. The men were always huddled together like flocks of sheep. The officers, as a body, were only entirely without shelter for about a month at Columbia, although at Savannah and Macon an average of about 200 were always without shelter, while the great mass of the men never had any shelter at all. The officers were always well organized and orderly, and main- tained camp and persons in the best possible sanitary trim. Inside of the prison pens for the men there was no well- recognized head. There was no sanitary police system, and the camp reeked with foul accumulations. The vicious element which is always considerable in large bodies of men, collected under any circumstances, was augmented a thousand fold by the problems of existence presented to them by rebel management at Andersonville. Prisoners who had money or other valuables were plundered and 118 Prisoners of War. murdered while they slept. ISTo one was safe who was known to have or was suspected of having any thing of value, however small. Robberies and murders were even committed in open day. Vigilance committees were organ- ized, and many of the fiends met their just deserts at the hands of their most pitiably distressed fellow-creatures. One miscreant taken in the act of robbery and murder was actually torn to pieces by the prisoners on the 20th of June, 1864. On the 11th of July, 1864, six wretches were hung in the prison inclosure for murder and robbery, after a fair trial and hearing at the hands of their fellow prisoners. While matters were somewhat mended thereby, a feeling of suspicion and insecurity yet prevailed. " Every man's hand was against his neighbor, and every man's hand against him." ISTo internal order or harmony existed. Camp pollutions were unremoved, the dead and dying were every-where to be seen, exposed and unprotected in the glaring sun, the rain, and the chill of southern nights ; pestilence raged at noon -day, and robbery and murder were rife at night. Men were shot down at the caprice of the guard, human life was held in such slight esteem, there seemed so little object in prolonging it that prisoners deliberately walked out over the dead line to have an end put to an existence which had become intolerable. Sub- ject to such destitution, in the midst of such surround- ings, filled with terror and apprehension, how could it be otherwise than that the reason of men should be de- throned. Many became mumbling imbeciles, without thought or feeling. They were like blasted plants. A circulation indeed went on in the interior, but the external textures went more and more to decay, until finally the illusion of life after death was perfect. While environment had considerable to do with abetter preservation of the oflicers, yet to the diet obtained at Savannah, and the Confederate money procured from speculators at Charleston and Columbia on sight drafts, must be attributed, in no small degree, their superior phj^s- ical state. But for these sources of supply- and relief, the Prisoners of War. 119 mortality with us must have been terrible, and the condi- tion of the survivors almost as deplorable as that of the enlisted men. No indebtedness, however, is rested under to the Confederate prison bureau on account of what they gave us at Savannah, and what we obtained ourselves at the other points. At the former place, as mentioned else- where, military necessity and local sentiment were the factors which together brought about our sutHcient feed- ing, while at the other places official cupidity was the touchstone to the favor we received. The prison com- mandants were not more blind to see them than were the speculators, who held promises to pay, in gold or green- backs, more valuable than Confederate money, that the days of the Confederacy were numbered. They desired to get the most profit out of the little remaining time, and so, for a commission on sales, they allowed Confederate money to be sold to the prisoners. Then, that the crop thus sown might be gathered by proper hands, they kindly permitted a sutler to purvey provisions and necessaries at about four hundred per cent advance upon the retail prices prevailing outside the camp among the citizens. Let no one imagine that there was any high living, any luxury enjoyed by the officers. The fresh meat at Savan- nah, and the Confederate money, aflbrded just enough variety in food to arrest disintegrating processes, to build up a little, and admit of holding out against the combined assaults of famine, exposure, depression, and vermin, until " General Exchange or General Sherman" released them. The number of Union officers captured and held as prisoners during the war is given as seven thousand and ninety-two (7,092) The deaths among these, according to the Confederate returns, number one hundred and eleven (HI), a mortality rate of one and fifty-six hun- dredths (1.56) per cent, or one death to sixty-four prison- ers. The United States authorities, however, have dis- covered one hundred and nineteen (119) marked graves of officers who died in prison, and this is the mortality officially rejsorted of Union officers who were prisoners of war by the adjutant-general of the United States army. 120 Prisoners of War. The Confederate returns distribute the deaths as follows : Richmond, Va., 21 ; Danville, Va., 8 ; Salisbury, IST. C, 27, with only 2 known graves ; Atlanta, Ga., 8, all dying from wounds ; Macon, Ga., 7 ; Andersonville, Ga., 3 ; Columbia, S. C, 1 ; Charleston, S. C, 29 ; and from all other points in the South, 7. The marked graves are in number as follows : At Richmond, Va., 29 ; at Danville, Va., 5 ; at Salisbury, IST. C, only 2 ; at Atlanta, Ga., 8 ; at Macon, Ga., 9 ; at Andersonville, Ga., 9; at Columbia, S. C, 3; at Charles- ton, S. C, 37; at Marietta, Ga., 8, with no death returns; and from all other points in the South, 9. "Why the deaths in excess of graves — 25 at Salisbury and 3 at Danville, 28 in all — were not added to the mortality as shown by graves, making a total of 147, is not explained, but evi- dently the adjutant-general's office hesitates to accept the Confederate returns in any instance. Any estimate of mortality, however, which might be obtained from a con- sideration of the reports given above, would furnish only a fractional part of the real mortality, as will probably be revealed in what is to follow. The list appended to this volume contains the names of 2,318 Union officers who were prisoners of war from Feb- ruary 1, 1864, to the close of the war. It has been care- fully collected and arranged, and is much more complete than any list as yet published. Among these officers the following are known to have died: Axtell, Benj. F., Capt. 5th Mich. Cav., Richmond, Va., May, 1864. Ballou,' Orson G., 2d Lieut. 100th Ohio Inf , Richmond, Va., Feb. 6, 1864. Bender, Wm. H., Capt. 122d Ohio Inf, Columbia, S. C, Oct. 8, 1864. Bennett, Wm. H., Capt. 25th Wis. Inf, Macon, Ga., Aug. 10, 1864. Berry, Joseph, 2d Lieut. 2d Mich. Inf., July, 18G4. Bishop, Edward W., 1st Lieut. 15th Conn. Inf, Salis- bury, N. C, March 17, 1864. Bohannon, D. E., Capt. 3d Tenn. Cav., Macon, Ga. Prisoners of War. 121 Burdicke, Chester A., 2d Lieut. 10th Wis. Inf., Charles- ton, S. C, Sept. 17, 1864. Burwell, Prescot B., Capt. 26th Wis. Inf., Richmond, Va., June 28, 1864. Caldwell, D. B., Lieut. 75th Ohio Inf. Coulter, Samuel, Capt. 96th Ohio Inf., April 28, 1864. Duncan, James, 1st Lieut. 9th Mich. Cav., Charleston, S. C, Oct. 26, 1864. Duvall, Wm. M., 2d Lieut. 14th 111. Cav., March 12, 1865. Earl, Isaac K, 1st Lieut. 4th Wis. Cav., Nov. 24, 1864. Eckings, T. K, Lieut. 3d jS"". J. Inf., Columbia, S. C. Evans, B. W., Capt. 4th Ohio Cav. Shot at Columbia, S. C. Ewers, Benj. F., Capt. 100th Ohio Inf., Charleston, S. C, Nov. 27, 1864. Fairfield, 0. B.,lst Lieut. 89th Ohio Inf., Columbia, S. C, Oct. 8, 1864. Forsyth, G. D., Lieut. 100th Ohio Inf. Shot at Libby Prison, Richmond, Va. Gilmore, John B., 1st Lieut. 72d Ohio Inf., Charleston, S. C, Oct. 19, 1864. Goold, James B., 1st Lieut. 20th Mich. Inf., Richmond, Va., June, 1864. Greenwood, , Lieut. 3d Md. Inf., Savannah, Ga. Grierson, Otto, Lieut. 45tli N. Y. Shot at Macon, Ga. Hansberry, David, Capt. 4th Ind. Bat., Columbia, S. C. Henderson, J. H., Lieut. 14th 111. Bat., Columbia, S. C. Hescoek, Henry, Capt. 1st Mo. Art., Columbia, S. C. Heyer, A. M., Capt. 10th W. Va. Cav., Columbia, S. C, Nov. 7, 1864. Horney, Paris, 2d Lieut. 110th Ohio Inf. Iluldman, — — , Lieut. 129th 111. Inf , Columbia, S. C. Jackson, R. W., 21st Wis. Inf., Columbia, S. C. Lupton, Levi, 1st Lieut. 116th Ohio Inf, Charleston, S. C, Sept. 12, 1864. *Malther8on, E. J., Capt. 18th Conn. Inf. McCuUough, David, Capt. 75th Ohio Inf., Macon, Ga. *'The name of this officer, or the regiment to which he belonged, 13 122 Prisoners of War. McGinley, James F., Capt. 3d Mich. Inf., Oct. 27, 1864. McGinness, W., Capt. 74tli 111. Inf. McGinness, "W". A., Lieut. 19th Mass. Inf., Savannah, Ga. McKee, S., Capt. 14th Ky. Cav. II^Tute, Joseph R., 2d Lieut. 22d Mich. Inf., Millen, Ga., Oct. 8, 1864. Parker, Edward A., Lieut. 1st Vermont IL Art. Died at Columbia, S. C.,from injuries inflicted by blood-hounds. Reynolds, James, 1st Lieut. 7th Mich. Inf., Salisbury, K C, Jan. 2, 1865. Riggs, Chas. H., Capt. 123d Ohio Inf., Charleston, S. C, Sept. 15, 1864. Saxton, Luther "W"., Capt. 54th Ohio Inf., Macon, Ga., June, 1864. Spofl"ord, A. C, Lieut. 21st Ohio Inf.. Columbia, S. C. Sprague, A. W., Lieut. 24th Mich. Inf., Charleston, S. C, Oct. 14, 1864. Stevens, W. S., Lieut. 104th JS\ Y. Inf. Taylor, IL C, 2d Lieut. 21st Wis. Inf., Charleston, S. C, Dec. 12, 1864. Thorne, Daniel, Capt. 63d Ohio Inf., Savannah, Ga., Oct. 5, 1864. Torrey, William, Lieut.-Col. 1st Wis. Cav., Aug. 2, 1864. Turbayne, George, Lieut. 66th E". Y. Inf. Shot at Co- lumbia, S. C Waters, John M., 1st Lieut. 16th Conn. Inf , Savannah, Ga., Aug. 28, 1864. Wenrick, J. E., Capt. 19th Penn. Inf., Columbia, S. C. Young, A., 2d Lieut. 4th Penn. Cav. Shot at Columbia S. C. Fifty-two (52) names are included in the above list. While this would be a high mortality for the same length of time for any body of men equal in number, under the incorrect. But it has been left as it is because it represents a dead officer of the same or some other name or regiment, wlio would not otherwise be inchided in the above list. Prisoners of War. 123 most favorable climatic, hygienic and dietetic conditions, yet considered as pertaining to this collection of prisoners, under all the adverse influences which befell them, it bor- ders on the marvelous. Taking twelve hundred (1200) officers as the number at Macon in the early part of June, and two thousand three hundred (2,300) as the number at Columbia at the time of their removal from there, in Feb- ruary, 1865, seventeen hundred and fifty (1750) is obtained as the average strength for the whole time, and fifty-two (52) deaths would furnish a mortality rate of about 3 per cent, or one death to thirty-three and two-thirds (33|) men. It should, however, according to the rebel records, be much lower than this ! They do not any-wliere upon their rolls carry the names of Axtell, Ballou, Parker, Bender, Bennett, Berry, Caldwell, Coulter, Duncan, Du- vall, Evans, Evers, Fairfield, Gillmore, Goold, Hansbury, Hescock, Horney, Iluldman, Lupton, McCullough, McGin- nis, McGinley, llfute, Reynolds, Riggs, Saxton, Sprague, Stevens, Taylor, Thorne, Torrey, or "Waters — thirty- three (33) in all — as dead men. Subtracting these thirty- three (33) from the list of fifty-two (52), there remain but nineteen (19) as the rebel return of deaths — one and nine-hundredths (1.09) per cent of mean strength, or one death to ninety (90) men. But this wonderful show- ing is yet much too high. The prison officials who had charge of the returns were too modest by over one-fourth. While they forgot that Lieutenant Parker, who was killed by blood-hounds at Columbia, S. C, was dead, five (6) of the nineteen (19) deaths they did return were shot to death by rebel guards for no off'ense at all. These were Lieuten- ants G. D. Forsyth, 100th Ohio Infantry; Otto Grierson, 45th X. Y. Infantry; T. K. Eckings, 3d K J. Infantry; Turbane, 66th IST. Y. Infantry; and A.Young, 4th Penn. Cavalry. These might not improperly have been excluded as caused by an epidemic aflection, since deaths from epidemic agencies are not considered in making up the ordinary death rate percentages among troops, and consequently the mortality would have been reduced to fourteen (14), a death rate percentage to average number 124 Prisoners of War. of about eight-tenths {j\) per cent, or one death to one hundred and twenty-five (125) men. If the accuracy of such a mortality report as the above can be credited, it is a singular fact that over one-fourth (i), or one out of every four (4), of all the deaths occur- ring according to their reports, among seventeen hundred and fifty (1750) Union officers prisoners of war for one year were directly occasioned by gunshot injuries at the hands of those who had them in charge. Even yet taking part in the production of a mortality percentage of one and nine hundredths (1.09), there is a true epidemic ele- ment, namely, yellow fever. Four (4) of those reported are known to have died of this disease at Columbia alone, as follows : Captain J. E. Wenrick, and Lieutenants R. W. Jackson, A. C. Spofibrd, and J. H. Henderson.. If these are counted out, there only remain, according to to Confederate reports, ten (10) deaths from all other causes than violence and yellow fever, about fifty-seven one-hundredths (yVcr) per cent, or one death to one hun- dred and seventy-five (175) men. In addition to the fifty-two (52) whose names have been given, five (5) others are know to have died whose names arc now forgotten, and are not included in the list of deaths already given. One of these, an officer of a Ten- nessee regiment, died at Macon, Ga.; one in Charleston jail-yard ; one was shot near Columbia, S. C, while trying to escape from a railroad train ; one, according to the statement of Major Van Buren, 6th ISTew York Cavalry, was murdered by guards at Augusta, Ga., on the night of November 30, 1864, because he protested against their rob- bing him, and one, an officer of a Kentucky regiment, was kicked to death by Dr. Todd, a rebel surgeon, in a hospi- tal at Rykersville, near Charleston, S. C. This Todd claimed to be a brother of Mrs. Lincoln, and gloated over brutality which should have shamed a savage. Here, then, are fifty-seven (57) deaths which can be vouched for — a mortality percentage of three and one-fourth (3^), or one death to thirty and seventy-hundredths (30.70) men. But do fifty-seven (57) deaths of w^hich there is certain Prisoners of War. 125 knowledge, cover all that took place among these prison- ers? Undoubtedly not; for fally one-half of the whole number transpired within the prison inclosures, and one- half is much too small a proportion of hospital to camp deaths. Lieutenant A. C. Roach, 51st Indiana Infantry, in his work upon prison life in the Confederacy, speaking of his sojourn in Charleston, S. C, says : " In the latter part of September, the yellow fever made its appearance among the prisoners. Several of my most intimate friends fell victims to this terrible scourge, and it was not until Death had marked them for his that we could induce the rebel surgeons to remove them from the dark, dank, illy- ventilated cells of the work-house to the hospital for med- ical treatment." Captain C. W. Brandt, 1st New York Cavalry (Report of House of Representatives on Treat- ment of Prisoners of War, p. 1086), reports as follows in regard to his imprisonment at Charleston, in the jail-yard : " We had no shelter from sun or rain. The sink was so illy arranged that it soon became an intolerable nuisance, productive of disease and death. The ration was miser- able. . . . As the result .of all this, upward of one hundred officers, %vho were comparatively well when taken to Charleston, died." Captain Brandt undoubtedly knew whereof he spoke, for he was taken sick himself in Charles- ton and sent to Rykersville hospital, where he saw the brutal Surgeon Todd kick the Kentucky officer to death and gloat over the deed. From statements received in the spring of 1865, at Camp Parole, Annapolis, Md., from Lieutenants Samuel Harris, 5th Michigan Cavalry, and H. B. Crawford, 2d Illinois Cavalry, who had been in the prison hospital at Columbia, S. C, not less than twelve (12) deaths must have occurred there alone. While prisoners were loath to go out to the hospital, yet, when they became wholly listless, apathetic, and indifferent, they were sent out by their comrades, be- cause they had exhausted all the resources they possessed for ministering unto them, and had reached the conclusion that it was to the best interests of all to try the hazard of the hospital. The camps and hospitals were always sepa- 126 Prisoners of War. rated, and communication between them irregular, through persons 23assing out and in ; but the impression conveyed through general report was that a very considerable mor- tality prevailed among the inmates. Again, while it has been shown that the conduct of the guards was brutal, we would by no means have the temerity to assert that over one-fourth of all the deaths reported by the rebels — one out of not quite every four — were the result of violence and wanton shooting. This would form too large a pro- portion of violent to disease deaths for even rebel prisons. During the sanguinary conflict of the War of the Rebellion the number of killed, and those who died from wounds and injuries, was ninety-three thousand, four hundred and forty- three (93,443), to two hundred and ten thousand, four hun- dred (210,400) deaths from disease and unknown causes, or in the proportion of one (1) to three and one-fourth (3^). During the Mexican War, one thousand, five hundred and forty-nine (1,549) were killed or died of wounds, to eleven thousand, three hundred and forty-seven (11,347) of dis- ease, or one (1) to seven and one-third (7J). By referring to the list of 52 deaths, it will be seen that Ohio furnishes sixteen (16) of the number. Among the two thousand, three hundred and eighteen (2,318) prison- ers, there were two hundred and fifty-four (254) Ohio of- ficers — a death rate percentage of six and three-tenths (6.3), or one death to fifteen and seven-eighths (15f) men. Michigan had eighty-eight (88) prisoners, with eight (8) deaths — a mortality percentage of nine and two-tenths (9.2), or one death to eleven (11) men. Wisconsin had fifty-three (53) prisoners, with six (6) deaths — a mortality percentage of eleven and three-tenths (11.3), or one death to eight and five-sixths (8f) men. Consolidating the three states, an aggregate is obtained of three hundred and ninety-five (395), with thirty (30) deaths— a mortality per- centage of eight and ninety-three hundredths (8.93), or one death to thirteen and one-sixth (13^) men. The returns from these states have been obtained from the state rosters published since the war, and from prison records of deaths. They are very nearly accurate and Prisoners of War. 127 complete with the exception of Ohio, the rosters of whose cavah-y regiments have not yet heen published. \Vijen these are accessible, the mortalitj^ percentage will prob- ably be found as high as that of Michigan or Wisconsin. There is no reason whj' a greater mortality should have prevailed among the officers from these states than among those from other states — in fact, it is believed that some other states, as for instance, Pennsylvania, Kentucky, and Tennessee, would exhibit a greater mortality than either Ohio, Michigan, or Wisconsin. The mortality among the Union officers from these three states may therefore be accepted as fairly represent- ing the mortality among the two thousand, three hundred and eighteen (2,318) officers .who were prisoners of war from February 1, 1864, to the end of the war. A death rate percentage of eight and ninety-three one hundredths (8.93) among these would give a mortality of 207. It would hardly be fair to apply this mortality percentage to all the officers who were prisoners — seven thousand and ninety-two (7,092) — since in the earlier years of the war prisoners were much better quartered, better fed, and bet- ter treated. The only data which is available for deter- mining the mortality among four thousand, seven hun- dred and seventy-four (4,774) officers remaining after sub- tracting two thousand, three hundred and eighteen (2,318), is the death rate percentage of United States troops serving in the southern interior region, east, for thirty-one years, from 1829 to 1860. This, exclusive of cholera, was four and one-half (4J) per cent, or one (1) death to about twenty-three (23) men. A mortality percentage of four and one-half (4J) among four thousand, seven hundred and seventy-four (4,774) men would give two hundred and fourteen (214) deaths, and two hundred and seven (207) deaths added to these would make a total of four hundred and twenty-one (421) deaths for the whole number of officers — seven thousand and ninety-two (7,092). In arriving at so low a death rate percentage as four and one-half (4J) per cent, the Confederates have been given the benefits of any doubts and of the most favorable 128 Prisoners of War. estimates possible. It is well known that their clerical force was sadly inefficient, and, in a considerable meas- ure, the deficiencies in their reports are undoubtedly due to incompetent and ignorant clerks. Yet, aside from all this, in all matters relating to Union prisoners of war, there was such lying and duplicity on the part of the Con- federate authorities as to render absolutely unreliable all their statements concerning them. We may here contrast the above mortality statistics with those of Johnson's Island, where Confederate officers, prisoners in Union hands, were confined. The average number of prisoners from November, 1863, to April, 1865, about one year and a half, was about twenty-five hun- dred (2,500). During this time there were forty-five (45) deaths, one and eight-tenths (1.8) per cent, or one (1) death to fifty-five and fifty-five hundredths (55.55) men. These figures are obtained from a report of I. G. W. Steed man, M.D., Colonel 1st Alabama Volunteers, ap- pended to a Confederate account of prison life on John- son's Island. It is a notable fact that not a single death occurred there from violence inflicted upon a prisoner by a guard. According to the United States official reports, there were captured by the Union forces thirty-five thousand, seven hundred and eighty-two (35,782) rebel officers, five hundred and ninety-seven (597) of whom died in prison, a mortality rate of one and sixty-seven hundredths (1.67) per cent, or one (1) to fifty-nine and ninety-three hun- dredths (59.93) men. This mortality is in almost exact correspondence with that of the forces of the United States army in the northern division for twenty-one (21) years, from 1839 to 1860, which was one and sixty-eight hundredths (1.68) per cent, or one (1) in fifty-nine and six- tenths (59.6) men. The deaths of Union officers who were prisoners of war, as furnished from the adjutant-general's office of the United States army, are based upon the Confederate mor- tality returns and upon the showing of gr-aves at various points in the South. That only a fractional part of the Frisoners of War. 129 deaths are thus represented admits of no reasonable doubt when the exhibit is critically examined. For in- stance, at Columbia, S. C, the Confederates report one (1) death, and the graves reveal three (3), while we have given the names of fifteen (15) officers who died there, and can vouch for one more whose name is lost. Then, at Savannah, there is no note of either deaths or graves, while in the list are the names of four officers who died there. The writer can certify to the death at that point of Lieutenant McGinnis, 19th Massachusetts Infantry, be- cause he knew him well and saw his dead body in the prison pen ; and the death of Lieutenant Greenwood in the hospital outside was made known through the com- ments of the Savannah papers respecting his interment in the citv cemeterv- It is believed that these four form but "... <> a small minority of those who gave up the ghost at Savannah, since a recollection is retained of men ap- parently in the last stages of dissolution who were borne out to the hospital and were forever after lost to us. Again, at Macon, the Confederates report seven (7) deaths against nine (9) marked graves. The mortality in the prison camp alone fully covers these figures; and a greater number perished in the prison hospital at that place, as hospital attendants among the Union officers have testified. "When, too, it is remembered that Macon was a point at which Union officers were confined as prisoners of war from very near the commencement of the struggle, and all through it, how can it be otherwise than that such a death statement should be held in discredit? Only seven (7) deaths, or, as the graves show, nine (9) ! This during a period of four (4) years, with, at times, as many a.s fourteen hundred (1,400) men, numbers of whom were suffering from severe, and even mortal wounds, received upon the field of capture, and many of whom were de- bilitated and diseased in consequence of long confinement and starvation in Libby prison. The idea of any such low mortality among men situated and circumstanced as they were is preposterous. In the best selected and ar- 9 130 Prisoners of War. ranged quarters, furnished with every demand of dietary, clothing, and care, a similar number of perfectly healthy men, in the same time, would present a greater mortality rate. From Richmond, only twenty-one (21) deaths are re- ported, with twenty-nine (29) graves permitting identifica- tion. From Salisbury, twenty-seven (27) deaths, with only two (2) known graves ; Charleston, twenty-nine (29) deaths, with thirty-seven (37) graves ; Atlanta, eight (8) deaths, all from wounds, and eight (8) graves ; Anderson- ville, where only a few ofiicers were confined, three (3) deaths, with nine (9) graves ; Danville, eight (8) deaths, with five (5) graves; Marietta, Ga., no return of deaths, but eight (8) graves; and from all other points in the South, seven (7) deaths reported, with nine (9) graves. Such mortality statistics bear upon their face the stamp of utter unreliability. Until the spring of 18(J4, Richmond was the central point of confinement for Union ofiicers. From the first Bull Run, from the bloody fields of the Peninsula, the second Bull Run, Chancellorsville, Mine Run, the Shenandoah Valley, and from innumerable san- gulnarj' fields in Eastern and Western Virginia and East- ern Tennessee, scores and scores of wounded Union ofiicers were sent to Richmond as prisoners, and a very consider- able number of them died there. Yet only eleven (11) are reported as having died of wounds. That this, the grand receiving and retaining place for captured wounded of- ficers, from the most extensive theater of military opera- tions in the whole course of the war, should furnish a re- turn of but twenty-one (21) deaths from all causes — in- juries and disease — a smaller number than reported from Charleston or Salisbury — surpasses belief. That it by no means represents the actual mortality, is evidenced by the known graves, numbering twenty-nine (29), an excess of eight (8) over the returns, and a dift'erence of thirty-eight (38) per cent. At Charleston, the discrepancy amounts to twenty-seven and one-half (27^) per cent — twenty-nine (29) deaths against thirty-seven (37) graves. And if, at Salisbury, but two (2) graves can be recognized from Prisoners of War. 131 twenty-seven (27) deaths returned, and, at Columbia, but three (3) out of fifteen (15) known to have died there, only one (1) death having been reported, how many bodies of Union officers, prisoners of war, repose at Richmond, Charleston, Salisbury, Macon, Columbia, Savannah, and all over the South, in unmarked, unknown graves, and are unaccounted for upon the Confederate rolls? It will never be known until regimental muster rolls are carefully examined, and all not accounted for are added to the list of victims of southern prison pens. That a great excess of deaths, as compared with the Confederate returns, happened also among the Union en- listed men who were prisoners of war, admits of no ques- tion. For instance, onlj'^ two (2) deaths of enlisted men are reported from Savannah, when it is well known that hundreds died there. Again, at Camp Ford, Texas, the rebels report only one (1) death, the graves showing two (2), while prisoners estimate the mortality at not less tiian seven hundred (700). Also, at Charleston, according to rebel reports there were only one hundred and sixty-two (162) deaths, while tlireo hundred and tifty-one (351) graves have been found. At Salisbury, too, they reported four thousand, six hundred and forty-nine (4,649) deaths, against a discovery of graves numbering twelve thousand and thirty-four, a dift'erence of seven thousand, three hun- dred and eighty-iive (7,385). On every march, on every railroad journey in the Confederacy, these mar- tyrs for the Union fell by the wayside, to be buried like beasts, and the only record which may be had of them is in tlie Book of Everlasting Life. If the real number of those who died in imprisonment, and within six months after exchange, could be ascertained, it would exceed tifty thousand (50,000). Such systematic falsification of death occurrences were practised to hide the enormities of their treatment of the soldiers of the Union wlio unfortunately fell into their liands. When their fearful inhumanity was charged against them, their own mortality figures were paraded as disproving it, and, even to this day, constitutes their main 132 Prisoners of War. basis of defense. The Confederacy was founded upon fraud, and in making statements iu regard to prisoners of war no departure was made from the line marked out upon starting. Yet, when tlie recklessness of despair had settled down upon them, the truth was revealed in the records of Andersonville ; not, indeed, through rebel in- strumentalit}', but, because, from desperation, indiffer- ence, and indolence, Federal prisoners were assigned to the care of the mortality returns. Then became availa- ble, for its confirmation and vindication, that other Gol- gotha — Salisbur}' — where the earth revealed the horrid secrets which the rebels flattered themselves they had buried beyond human resurrection. Not all, ho-\\-cver, has yet been dragged up into the light. Thousands of Union soldiers — men and officers — not represented in any mor- tality estimates of prisoners of war so far issued from the Adjutant-General's office of the United States army, are interred in Southern soil where no surface trace exists to fix their resting place. In regard to the manner and local place of interment of those of the Union officers who died iu rebel prisons, we possess no positive information. None of the comrades of the deceased were permitted to accompany the remains to the graves prepared for them. The invariable answer to all requests to be accorded the privilege of paying the last sad tribute of respect to the mortal body in consignino- it to the tomb, was that the place of intended sepulcher was so far removed that the walk would prove too much for our physical strength. It was only when such privi- leges were petitioned for that they ever evinced any con- cern for our physical condition. The intelligence has been derived from officers who have been at the hospital at Columbia that they had there seen a rough, unplaned pine box, with a corpse in it, enveloped in an old blanket or such clothing as was upon it at the time of death. It was the expressed opinion of some, who had the best opportu- nity of knowing, that Confederate economy could not be better exemplified than in the burial of Union officers since one box was made to serve for all, the bodv beino- Prisoners of War. 133 removed from it at the grave, and the hox thus held in readiness for the next corpse vsrhich might require it. Concerning one interment, however, tliere is more defi- nite knowledge. Lieutenant Greenwood, of the 3d Mary- land Infantry, died in the hospital at Savannah. A lady in that city, who had known him, bought a lot in the cemetery at her own expense and had him decently buried. Tlie "Savannah Daily Republican" editorially denounced this as " an outrage upon the gallant dead buried there ; a pollution of the sacred soil with the bodies of those who burn our houses, orphan our children, and ravish our wives." The article also declared that their dead in Fed- eral hands received no such care. In an article noticing the above, the editor of the " Savannah Daily News " said : " Such articles are no credit to the Southern people. We have abundant evidence that our dead are decently buried, and it is nonsense to spend so much time and ink over so small a matter; we can afford to be magnanimous and Christian even if our enemies are not." 134 Prisoners of War. CHAPTER XVI. What was Furnished to Confederatk Prisoners— Cloth- ing — Account of Treatment by a Confederate Officer — Testimony OF A Confederate Surgeon — Circular Orders from the Commissary- General as to Treatment of Pris- oners. T the commencement of the war many of the ISTortheru States armed and uniformed their troops before turning tliem over to the United States government. Quite a num- ber — among otliers Oliio — had selected a gray uniform. Upon entering the United States service the gray uniforms were discarded and returned to the state authorities, and bhie substituted. This gray clothing, of which there was quite a large stock on hand, new and unused, was greatly superior in quality to the United States regulation uniform, and it was subsequently made use of for the pui-pose of clothing rebel prisoners of war, particularly at Camp Douglas (Chicago), at Johnson's Island, and Camp Chase (Columbus, Ohio). Those who have seen Confederate troops in the field and Confederate prisoners of war in tlie Xorth can testify to the fact that in general the latter were clothed better than the former. Rebel prisoners in the North were alwaj's supplied with clothing commensui-ate with their needs. It is also gener- ally familiar to those who had knowledge of prisoners of war that exchanged rebel prisoners were objects of envy to their comrades in the rebel army, on account of their better physical appearance and dress. While the United States government was thus dealing out clothing with no unstinted hand, the Confederacy not only never supplied the Union prisoners with an}' thing but a few rotten, rag- ged, lousy blankets, Init appropriated to its own use sup- o 3 Prisoners of War. 135 plies forwarded to them by the government, sanitary and Christian commissions, and private citizens. Respecting the treatment of Confederate officers in northern prisons, the following extracts are presented, taken at random from a work entitled " Camp, Field, and Prison Life," by W. A. Wash, captain C. S. A., who was confined on Johnson's Island: " I am glad to say that })rison life — in so well selected, arranged, and conducted a place as this — has been far more agreeable than I anticipated. But of course there is no patriotic soldier who would not rather be battling and RufFering for his country than to stay in an enemy's prison, tliough lounging in ease, opulence, and security. . . . The squad I was in was to occupy Block 4. I got room No. 19, having only four beds in it. Myself and three lieutenants filled the beds. We did not have to increase our number. Our building contained eighty prisoners, divided into two messes, there being a dining and cook room for each, and a stove tolerably well supplied with vessels. Our cupboard ware consisted of tin plates, tin cups, knives, forks, and spoons, and though rustic in appearance, they served our purpose as~ fully as a lord's outfit. Our rations were the same as issued to the Federal soldiery, consisting' of baker's bread, beef or bacon, coff"ee, sugar, rice, hominj^, vinegar, soap, and candles. My mess em- ployed two regular cooks, at $15 per month each. . . . Having some days previous made a requisition, and my appearance being a sufficient voucher that the articles were needed, I, on the 10th day of June, drew from Uncle Abraham's bounty a pair of pants, socks, and drawers. . . The other day, a jolly fellow said : ' If a body couldn't live easy, laugh, and grow fat here, he ought to die, for we have nothing to do but to eat, drink, sleep, and be merry.' . . Our sutlers are driving quite a brisk trade now. Twice each day they bring a wagon load of vegeta- bles, provisions, and all kinds of stuft', and at night all is gone. When money comes for a prisoner, it is retained at head-quarters on the outside, and credited to him on the sutler's book. The sutler gives us checks to any amount 136 I'risoncrs of War. desired, we at the same time giving him an order on the post commandant for an equivalent sum. . . . To-day we hud for dinner, besides our regular fare, green apple pies, honey, pickles, and ice water, and old Kentucky ham, butter, and biscuit graced our board at tea time last even- ing. Then we often have baked beef and potatoes, and every few mornings some splendid hash, seasoned with red pepper and onions. Where's the lord, with liis gor- geous mansion, rich china, and silver plate, and servants in livery, that, according to station, outlives us? We dine about noon ; but before that — an important item — our mail comes in at ten o'clock. Just after dinner, Mr. Sutler brings in yesterday's New York papers, which we buy in great numbers and read with avidity. All the afternoon, a beautiful span of spii'ited bays are busy haul- ing in wood for the various messes to cook with. I forgot to mention that early in the morning the ice wagon comes in, and a little later the milk vender, each giving us a yqvj good article at a fair price, and their supply is seldom equal to the demand. And I didn't say that our rations are brought in and issued to the various messes about nine o'clock each day. . . . After the drum beats for re- treat and the flag goes down, wliich is about sunset, no prisoner is allowed to leave his quarters. At nine o'clock, the garrison band regales us with several spirited tunes, and at the tap of the drum at half-past nine, all lights in the prison must be extinguished." . . . "All things considered, the whole premises are kept re- markably clean and healthy. Captain Scoville, who has charge of the internal affairs of the prison, visits all parts of the institution frequently, and is very kind in listening to the various questions and supplying the wants of the prisoners. When a lot of prison birds come in, each is given an empty straw tick, and they go out in squads to a barge of straw at the landing, and in a little while come back with their ticks stuffed full. . . . Several even- ings in each week, the big gate facing the lake is opened, and Confederate detachments of perhaps a hundred al- lowed to go and bathe in the lake ; and, as most all are Prisoners of War. " 137 glad of the opportunity to get out of the walls and into the water, we have to take it by turns." According to this description of a northern prison for Con- federate officers (and it is but a fair sample of all northern prisons for Con- federates, rank and file alike), it does not seem to have been a very bad place, particularly to Federal officers who suffered confinement at Libby, Macon, Charleston, and Columbia. The rations they re- ceived at any of these places and the accommodations they had would gladly have been exchanged for access to the garbage barrel and for quarters in the cow-shed of any respectable, well-regulated family in the North. However, lest it may be charged by some overzealous southern defender that Captain W. A. Wash, of the Con- federate States Army, was a clay-eater, and did not know what living was when he went to Johnson's Island, it is thought best to bolster up his statements by the following letter, published in the " Richmond (Va.) Examiner," from a rebel surgeon, who was also on Johnson's Island : " The sleeping accommodations were very comfortable, consisting of a bunk with straw bed ; and if the individual has no blanket, one is furnished, and he is allowed to buy as many more as he wants. Every room has a good stove and is furnished with a sufficiency of wood, which the prisoners have to saw for themselves after it is brought to their doors — by the way, a very good exercise. The prison consists of thirteen large buildings of wood. The space of ground inclosed is sixteen acres, of which the prisoners have full privilege to exercise in, to sing southern national songs, to hurrah for Jefferson Davis, and to play ball or any other game they sc^e fit. 138 Prisoners of War. " The rations are exactly the same as issued to the gar- rison, consisting of fresh beef, pork, baker's bread, sugar, coffee, beans, hominy, salt, soap and candles. Besides these, up to the time I left, there was a sutler's store inside of the inclosure, from which we could obtain any kind of vegetables or meats, or nick-nacks, if we chose. We could purchase any thing we wanted. Clothing and eatables were allowed to be sent to the prisoners by their friends in the ISTorth in any quantity, and money also without stint. " When I left the island the excitement about the re- lease of the prisoners by a force from Canada was at its highest pitch, necessarily causing the garrison to be rein- forced. This, coming so suddenly, found the commissary stores on the island deficient, and the rations for both prisoners and garrison were somewhat curtailed. The sutler was also sent away, and the prisoners still more re- stricted. I hope, however, before this time things are pursuing the even tenor of their way, and that the prison- ers are enjoying themselves as heretofore. We had the privilege of writing as many letters as we chose and when we chose, of course subject to certain restrictions. We could purchase writing materials in any quantity. " The officers over the prisoners have at all times con- ducted themselves as gentlemen, and have been very kind and lenient; nor do they suffer the prisoners to be insulted or abused in any way." The following are copies of orders relating to the treat- ment of the rebel prisoners in the hands of the United States authorities: [Circular.] Office of Commissary-General of Prisoners. Washington, D. C, April 20, 1864. By authority of the War Department the following reg- ulations will be observed at all stations where prisoners of war and political or state prisoners are held. These reo-- ulations will supersede those issued from this office Julv 7 1862. -^ ' I. The commanding officer at each station is held ac- Prisoners of War. 139 countable for the discipline and good order of his com- mand, and for the security of the prisoners, and will take such measures, with the means placed at his disposal, as will best secure these results. He will divide the prisoners into companies, and will cause written reports to be made to him of their condition every morning, showing the changes made during the preceding twenty-four hours, giving the names of the "joined," " transferred," " deaths," etc. At the end of every month, commanders will send to the commissary-general of prisoners a return of prisctn- ers, giving names and details to explain " alterations." If rolls of "joined " or " transferred " have been forwarded during the month, it will be sufficient to refer to them on the return according to forms furnished. IT. On the arrival of prisoners at any station, a careful comparison of them with the rolls which accompany them will be made, and all errors on the rolls will be corrected. When no roll accompanies the prisoners, one will imme- diately be made out, containing all the information re- quired, as correct as can be, from the statements of the prisoners themselves. When the prisoners are citizens, the town, county and state from which they come will be given on the rolls under the headings, rank, regiment and company. At stations where prisoners are received frequently and in small parties, a list will be furnished every fifth day — the last one in the month may be for six days — of all pris- oners received during the preceding five days. Immedi- ately on their arrival prisoners will be required to give up all arms and weapons of every description, of which the commanding officer will require a list to be made. When prisoners are forwarded for exchange, duplicate parole rolls, signed by the prisoners, will be sent with them, and an ordinary roll will be sent to the commissary- general of prisoncis. When they are transferred from one station to another, an ordinary roll will be sent with them, and a copy of it to the commissary-general of prisoners. In all cases the officer charged with conducting prison- 140 Prisoners of War. ers will report to the officer under whose orders he acts the execution of his service, furnishing a receipt for the prisoners delivered, and accounting by name for those not delivered, which report will be forwarded, without delay, to the commissary-general of prisoners. III. The hospital will be under the immediate charge of the senior medical officer present, who will be held re- sponsible to the commanding officer for its good order and the proper treatment of the sick. A fund for this hospital will be created as for other hos- pitals. It will be kept separate from the fund of the hospital for the troops, and will be expended for the objects specified and in the manner prescribed in para- graph 1212, Revised Regulations for the Army of 1863, except that the requisition of the medical officer in charge, and the bill of purchase before payment, shall be approved by the commanding officer. When this "fund" is suffi- ciently large, it may be expended also for shirts and draw- ers for the sick, the expense of washing clothes, articles for policing purposes, and all articles and objects indis- pensably necessary to promote the sanitary condition of the hospital. IV. Surgeons in charge of hospitals where there are prisoners of war will make to the commissary-general of prisoners, through the commanding officer, semi-monthly reports of deaths, giving names, rank, regiment, and company, date and place of capture, date and cause of death, place of interment, and number of grave. Elffects of deceased prisoners will be taken possession of by the commanding officer, the money and valuables to be reported to this office (see note on blank reports), the clothing of any value to be given to such prisoners as re- quire it. Money left by deceased prisoners or accruinsj from the sale of their effects will be placed in the prison fund. V. A fund, to be called the " prison fund," and to be applied in procuring such articles as may be necessary for the health and convenience of the prisoners not expressK' provided for by General Army Regulations, 1863, will be Prisoners of War. 141 made by withholding from their rations such parts thereof as can conveniently be dispensed with. The abstract of issues to prisoners, and statement of the prison fund, shall be made out, commencing with the month of June, 1864, in the same manner as is prescribed for the abstract of is- sues to hospitals and statement of the hospital fund (see paragraphs 1209, 1215, and 1246, and form 5, Subsistence Department, Armj^ Regulations, 1864), with such modifi- cations in language as may be necessary. The ration for issue to prisoners will be composed as follows, viz: Hard bread, fourteen ounces, one ration, or eighteen ounces soft bread, one ration; corn meal, eight- een ounces per one ration ; beef, fourteen ounces per one ration; bacon or pork, ten ounces per one ration; beans, six quarts per one hundred men; hominy or rice, eight quarts per one hundred men; sugar, fourteen pounds per one hundred men ; Rio coffee, five pounds ground, or seven pounds raw, per one hundred men ; tea, eighteen ounces per one hundred men ; soap, four pounds per one hundred men ; adamantine candles, five candles per one hundred men ; tallow candles, six candles per one hundred men ; salt, two quarts per one hundred men ; molasses, one quart per one hundred men; potatoes, thirty pounds per one hundred men. When beans are issued, hominy or rice will not be. If at an}' time it should seem advisable to make any change in this scale, the circumstances will be reported to the commissary-general of prisoners for his consideration. VI. Disbursements to be charged against the prison fund will be made by the commissary of subsistence, on the order of the commanding officer; and all such ex- penditures of funds will be accounted for by the commis- sary in the manner provided for the disbursements of the hospital fund. When in any month the items of expenditures on ac- count of the prison fund can not be conveniently entered on the abstract of issues to prisoners, a list of the ai'ticles and quantities purchased, prices paid, statement of serv- ices rendered, etc., certified by the commissary as correct, 142 Prisoners of ^Var. and approved by the commanding officer, will accompany the abstract. In such cases, it will only be necessary to enter on the abstract of issues the total amount of the funds thus expended. VII. At the end of each calendar month, the command- ing officer will transmit to the commissary-general of prisoners a copy of the " Statement of the Prison Fund," as shown in the abstract of issues for that month, with a copy of the list of expenditures specified in the preceding paragraph, accompanied by vouchers, and will indorse thereon, or convey in letter of transmittal, such remarks as the matter may seem to require. VIII. The prison fund is a credit with the subsistence department, and, at the request of the commissary -general of prisoners, may be transferred b}' the commissary-gen- eral of subsistence, in manner prescribed by the existing regulations for the transfer of hospital fund. IX. With the prison fund may be purchased such arti- cles not pi-ovided for by regulations as may be necessary for the health and proper condition of the prisoners, such as table furniture, cooking utensils, articles for policing, straw, the means of improving or enlarging the barracks or hospital, etc. It will also be used to pay clerks and other employes engaged in labors connected with pris- oners. No barracks or other structures Avill be erected or en- larged, and no alterations made, without first submitting a plan and estimate of the cost to the commissarj^-general of prisoners, to be laid before the Secretary of War for his approval ; and in no case will the services of clerks or otlier emploj-es be paid for without the sanction of the commissai'y-gcneral of prisoners. Soldiers employed with sucli sanction will bo allowed forty cents per day when employed as clerks, stewards, or mechanics ; twenty -five cents a day when employed as laborers. X. It is made the duty of the quartermaster, or, when there is none, the commissary, under the orders of the commanding officer, to procure all articles required for Prisoners of War. 143 the prisoners, and to hire clerks and other employes. All bills for service or for articles purchased will be certified by the quartermaster, and will be paid by the commissary, on the order of the commanding officer, who is held responsible that all expenditures are for authorized pur- poses. XI. The quartermaster will be held accountable for all property purchased with the prison fund, and he will make a return of it to the commissary-general of pi-ison- ers at the end of each calendar month, which will show the articles on hand on the first day of the month, the articles purchased, issued, and expended during the month, and the articles remaining on hand. The return will be supported by the abstract of the articles purchased, issued, and expended, certified by the quartermaster and approved by the commanding officer. XII. The commanding officer will cause requisition to be made by his quartermaster for such clothing as may be absolutely necessary for the prisoners, which requisition will be approved by him, after a careful inquiry as to the necessity, and submitted for the approval of the commis- sary-general of prisoners. The clothing will be issued by the quartermaster to the prisoners, with the assistance and under the supervision of an officer detailed for the pur- pose, whose certificate that the issue has been made in his presence will be the quartermaster's voucher for the clothing issued. From the 30th of April to the 1st of October, neither drawers nor socks will be allowed, except to tiie sick. When army clothing is issued, buttons and trimmings will be taken ofl" the coats, and the skirts will be cut short, so that prisoners who wear them will not be mistaken for United States soldiers. XIII. The sutler for the prisoners is entirely under the control of the commanding officer, who will require him to fni-nish the prescribed articles, and at reasonable rates. For this privilege, the sutler will be taxed a small amount by the commanding officer, according to the amount of his 144 Prisoners of War. trade, which tax will be placed in the hands of the com- missary to make part of the prison fund. XIV. All money in possession of prisoners, or received by them, will be taken charge of \)j the commanding of- ficer, who will give receipts for it to those to whom it be- longs. Sales will be made to the prisoners by the sutler on or- ders on the commanding officer, Avhich orders will be kept as vouchers in the settlement of the individual accounts. The commanding officer will procure proper books in which to keep an account of all moneys deposited in his hands, these accounts to be always subject to inspection by the commissary-general of prisoners or other inspect- ing officer. "When prisoners are transferred from the post, the moneys belonging to them, with a statement of the amount due each, will be sent with them, to be turned over by the officer in chai-ge to the officer to whom the prisoners are delivered, who Avill give receipts for the money. When prisoners are paroled, their money will be returned to them. XV. All articles sent by friends to prisoners, if proper to be delivered, will be carefully distributed as the donors may request; such as are intended for the sick passing through the hands of the surgeon, who will be responsible for their proper use. Conti-ibutions must be received by an officer, who will be held responsible that they are de- livered to the person for whom they are intended. All uniform clothing, boots, or equipments of any kind for military service, weapons of all kinds, and intoxicating liquors, including malt liquors, are among the contraband articles. The material for outer clothing should be gray, or some dark mixed color, and of inferior quality. Any excess of clothing over what is required for immediate use, is contraband. XVI. When prisoners are seriously ill, their nearest rel- atives, being loyal, may be permitted to make them short visits ; but under no other circumstances will visitors be admitted without the authority of the commissary-general of prisoners. At those places where the guard is" inside Prisoners of War. 145 the inclosure, persons having official business to transact with the comnaander or other officer, will be admitted for such purpose, but will not be allowed to have any commu- nication with prisoners. XVII. Prisoners will be permitted to write and to re- ceive letters, not to exceed one page of common letter paper each ; provided the matter is strictly of a private nature. Such letters must be examined by a reliable non- commissioned officer, appointed for that purpose by the commanding officer, before they are forwarded or deliv- ered to the prisoners. XVIII. Prisoners who have been reported to the com- missary-general of prisoners, will not be paroled or re- leased except by authority of the Secretary of War. W. Hoffman, Colonel Sd Infantry, Commissary- General of Prisoners. Official : W. T. Hartz, Assistant Adjutant- General. Official: Sam'l Breck, Assistant Adjutant- General. [Circular.] Office of the Commissary-General of Prisoners. Washington, D. C, June 1, 1864. I. By authority of the Secretary of War, the ration to be issued to prisoners of war, as announced in the cir- cular from this office, dated April 20, 1864, is hereby mod- ified as follows, to go into immediate effect, viz. : Pork or bacon, 10 ounces (in lieu of fresh beef) ; fresh beef, 14 ounces; flour, or soft bread, 16 ounces; hard bread, 14 ounces (in lieu of flour or soft bread) ; corn meal, 16 ounces (in lieu of flour or bread); To 100 rations: Beans or peas, 12J pounds ; rice or hominy, 8 pounds ; soap, 4 pounds; vinegar, 3 quarts ; salt, 3f pounds; potatoes, 15 pounds. Sugar and coffee, or tea, will be issued only to the sick and wounded, on the recommendation of the surgeon in charge, at the rate of 12 pounds of sugar, 5 pounds of 10 146 Prisoners of War. ground, or seven pounds of green coffee, or one pound of tea, to the 100 rations. This part of the ration will be allowed only for every other day. II. The difterenee between the ration as above estab- lished, and the ration allowed by law to the soldiers of the United States army, constitutes the " savings," from which is formed tlie prison fund. W. Hoffman, Colonel Sd U. »S'. Jnf., Commissary-General of Prisoners. i . * \ >< l'^- EXPERIENCE IN REBEL PRISONS FOR UNITED STATES SOLDIERS AT RICHMOND, DANVILLE, ANDERSONVILLE, SAVANNAH, AND MILLEN BY HENRY M. DAVIDSON LATE SERGEANT BATTEKV ''a," FIRST OHIO LIGHT ARTILLERY, JOHNPON's DIVISION, ARMV OF THE CUMBERLAND i »lil;ii ' H f -.' '-1. -! .\' lit. • ■». o Eh . 227 for the distance of several rods, was used for this purpose.* The water was warm and disagreeable ; it had a boggy, earthy taste, and was, in its purest state, of a dark, red- dish brown color; yet, if all the arrangements for our im- prisonment had been as good as this, we should never have murmured. On the west side, near the dead line, was a bridge of loose boards, over which communication could be had with the opposite side of the swamp. Above this, a place had been scooped out directly beneath the dead line, where water for drinking and cooking purposes was dipped up in cups : below, the water was reserved for bathing and washing clothes, these arrangements, how- ever, had been made by common consent of the prisoners, the authorities having nothing to do with it; there was nothing to prevent the evil-disposed from disturbing the water, and rendering it unfit for use, except the moral in- fluence of camp. Having bathed our hands and faces, we returned to our " lodging," just as the men were lighting their little cook- fires preparatory to the morning meal. Having nothing to cook, we sat down upon our stump and waited, looking hungrily on, until the brief repast of the others had ter- minated. At eight o'clock came the roll-call. For this purpose, the drum beat the assembly at the south gate, and the men formed in four ranks, by divisions and de- tachments, to be counted. Sergeants had been appointed to take charge of their respective divisions, to receive and distribute rations ; to superintend the men in foraging for wood outside the stockade ; to form them in column for roll-call, and to attend to such other business of a public nature as occasion might require. The " roll-call man " was usually a Confeispensary, Captain Wirz 1st. Head Quarters, iEorts & Guns. Cliief Surgeon'sHead Quarters, ■3d. Dispensary, Hospital Surgeon's Head Quarters, Dead House at Hospital. 'V^'ell. ■Water Tank, Captain "WJiz 3nd. Head Quarters, Springs- Soup Kettle in Hospital, Sentry of^Prison. Stockade, Guard House and Stocks, TntrencUnieiits , INorth eiid of Stockade at first. Heserve Guard, Kebel Stesvards Hd. Qrs. in charge of Medicine. Guard fires during tUe niglit. TO COOK HOUSE a D D D Q ^a D D'gD n D D D D M. sick call. 52ii: toj B- 11. G. Prison. Siockade S.. - S., DEAD LINE VJ SUTLER MARKET STREET DEAD LINE ROAD FROM PRISON TO HOSPITAL H. S. Hospital B. S., DIAGRAM OF ANDERSONVILLE p. 238. Prisoners of War. 239 state to aiding their enemies in any manner, fearing, among other things, that such an act would be construed to their disadvantage by their own government; they also hoped that the rebels, knowing this objection to taking part in the work, would enlarge the inclosure for human- ity's sake ; bow far the humanity of the rebels could be confided in will be amply illustrated during the progress of this narrative. Finding, however, that their numbers were constantly increasing, and General Winder's order to Captain Wirz " to pile in the d d lazy vagabonds three deep, if they held out longer," being reported to them, they finally consented to perform the labor. Some thirty men were selected for the purpose, each of whom gave a verbal parole to make no attempt to escape while on this duty ; they were then provided with axes and spades, and set to work. The enlargement was made upon the north end of the old stockade, and extended some forty rods in length; and, if this estimate be correct, the addition would include some ten acres of land. The whole work was concluded about the 1st of July, having continued two weeks. When all was completed, a few feet of the old wall, which was still standing between the two portions of the the pen, was taken down, making an opening ten or twelve feet in width, through which the living tide soon began to pour its filthy current. The number of detachments at this time was ninety, one-half of which, from the forty- fifth upward, was to be transferred to the new ground. At ten o'clock the moving commenced, and it continued until the sun had long gone down. More than ten thou- sand men passed through the narrow opening, all eager to rush in and inspect their new quarters. The crowd was so great that the sick, falling down in the press, were trodden upon and killed; strong men became wedged in between the moving mass and the standing timbers, and were crushed; men carrying all their earthly goods, wretched though they were, yet precious to them, dropped a little cup, or a piece of ragged blanket, and, stooping to pick it up or preserve it, were overthrown, trampled upon 240 Prisoners of War. by the hurrying feet that could not turn aside, and left a shapeless, hideous mass of broken limbs bathed in blood. How many were thus killed outright is not known, but a large number, both of the strong and weak, were so injured that they never recovered. It is painful to contemplate this miserable scene, which a little foresight might have prevented. Had the officers of the prison taken the charge of the removal in hand, as they were bound in virtue of their office to do, the frightful tragedy would never had occurred, and many a man, who dated, from the fatigue and the injuries received upon that day, the disease which terminated in the grave, might have sur- vived to be finally exchanged. Had the Confederate au- thorities ordered the detachments through the opening one by one, assigning to each its place in the new ground as it entered, the whole might have moved harmoniously, and tlie work would have been completed in a few hours at most, without hurry, confusion, or disaster. The whole area now occupied by the prisoners included about twenty-five acres, and was spacious enough for all neaessary purposes. The tops of the few trees which had been cut down within the new inclosure were left upon the ground, and the partition wall torn away by the men for their own use ; for a time there was much improve- ment among us, but, when the wood was gone which had thus been furnished, and the constant trampling of feet had beaten down the grass, the new stockade became like the old one, and the inmates of each undistinguishaiale. The better to understand and appreciate the horrors of the situation in which we were placed, I will take the lib- erty to introduce the reader into the interior of the stock- ade, and point out to him the daily routine of the place, together with the appearance of its inmates. Let him not shrink from the terrible sight ; for here he will witness how a noble spirit can overcome the weakness of the body with its strength ; how the brave heart battles with the slow, steady, but certain approach of the dreaded foe, who conquers all at last; and will learn a lesson of patient en- duranccj of calm, yet fearful suffering, of sublime courage, Prisoners of War. 241 that will raise his faith iu humanity, and arouse his deep- est sympathies with men that can suffer all this, huoyed up and sustained by an ardent love for that country upon whose altar they ofter themselves a sacrifice. "We obtain our passes from Captain Wirz, and present them at the south gate, where they are 'examined by the officer in charge of it, who pronounces them all right and turns us over to the sergeant, with orders for our admis- sion ; he, thereupon, opens a little wicket and we enter. Passing hurriedly down the wagon road, we cross the dead line, without halting, lest the sentry may mistake us for prisoners and fire upon us, where we come to a halt and take a brief survey of the scene. It is early morning, and the first gray streaks of dawn are lighting up the sky; but the bright rays of the sun, itself still below the hori- zon, seem to pass far over our heads, as if to avoid a con- tact with the loathsome objects around; as birds are said to fly high above the sea in whose bosom the cities of the plain lie engulfed. Before us are the "huts" of the pris- oners, looking like little irregular heaps of black rags, strewn thickly and in inextricable confusion over the ground, lying beside which are human forms, stretched at full length upon the sand, their upturned faces black with grime, and their naked bodies wet with dew; they lie in this unsheltered manner, because they have nothing to pro- tect them against the night. Two tall trees stand in the corner, oW to our right, looking grimly down upon the piteous spectacle. Turning round to our left, our eye passes rapidly over the low, white belt of fog that stretches across the pen from west to east, where lies the swamp IVom which those sleeping beings draw the water to quench their burning thirst, or cleanse their filthy garments ; be- yond the fog, we can faintly see a continuation of the ir- regular heaps which had attracted our attention at first, and the dim outline of the wall, upon whose top the sen- try stands with sleepless eye, his long-musket gleaming in the breaking light like a bar of polished silver. In the dim perspective we descry the skeleton roof of a long low 16 242 Prisoyiers of War. building, in the north-west extremity of the yard, but its outline is too faint to be examined from this point. Within the walls, a strip of unoccupied ground, a few yards in width, stretches around the whole — the inclosure made by the dead line — and to tread upon it is death. The damp morning mist rises upon the place, as the air grows warmer from the ascending sun, and the view is shut out from our eyes. Treading lightly, lest we disturb these slumbering beings, whom it would be cruel to bring back to misery from the blissful unconsciousness into which they have sunk, let us examine the huts before us. The first that meets our eye is formed by fastening long strips of cloth together with wooden pins, which is then stretched across a couple of poles that are placed with one end upon the ground, the other resting upon a bank of sand, laboriously raised a few feet high by the hands ; it is open like trellis-work, and black with smoke and dirt, and affords a covering only in spots to the wretched beings lying beneath it. Further on is another style of habitation — for these things contain all the household goods of two or three men. This consists of but two parts — a short pole, set upright in the earth, and a piece of blanket stretched over it. Next to .^ this, is a hole scooped out in the sand, in which the owner, while lying upon his back, can have ' a support for his back, and here half a dozen nearly naked men are ly- ing, their faces turned from each other, like pigs. But into it the rain some- times settles, and drives the unfortunate occupants into the pelting storm. Another form of the burrow, is an im- provement upon this primitive habitation ; three or four have joined together in excavating beneath the surface, first digging a hole some three feet in depth, of the size of their bodies, and, afterward, scooping out the sand at Prisoners of War. 243 right angles to it; into these they crawl and are protected against the heat and storm ; but the fine particles of which the roof is composed, becoming detached upon the light- est jar, drop down in their faces, threatening to smother them in their sleep. Here we find another hut; this has been built with adobe, formed from a bluish clay that was found near the swamp. With much labor and patience, the poor fellows have molded the materials with their hands and dried them in the sun; three walls have been built, three or four feet high, and slightly inclining to- ward the center, over which they have stretched an old shirt, which can be made of more service here than upon the owner's shoulders. But some of these shelters are of a higher grade of comfort, and are inhabited by the acknowledged " aris- tocracy " of the prison. They are constructed of slabs, split from pine logs, which they had brought in from the surrounding forest during the time when the prisoners were permitted to hire a guard to go there with them. They are of sufiicient size to accommodate six or seven men, and form a complete protection against the weather. They are high enough to allow the occupant to stand erect. Little slabs are placed around for seats: pegs and shelves are arranged upon the walls ; bunks of " pine straw " are made upon the ground ; and a door shuts out the beating storms. The last structure which we will ex- amine is formed by placing several poles parallel to each other, over which two blankets sewed together are thrown, forming a burrow some eighteen inches high, and as long and wide as the blankets will allow. Its inmates must crawl beneath it, and, when in, are quite Avell protected. Very many of the men, those whom we see lying about us on the surface, are unfurnished with any " shanty," either dug in the ground or built upon it. They are mostly late arrivals, who have not yet been initiated into prison life, and are waiting to learn how to take advantage of the few conveniences that are furnished them. If we were al- lowed to go out into the woods, we could all be provided with cabins, for we are willing to help ourselves in every 244 Prisoners of War. way possible; or, if fear of our taking advantage of the brief liberty to make our escape prevents that, let the au- thorities bring us logs and furnish axes for us, and we will do the rest ; or, supposing that to involve too great ex- pense to the Confederate government, let us draw upon the money of which they have robbed us, and we will purchase the materials and hire them brought to us. It is not the fault of these men that they are destitute, for they are utterly helpless in the hands of their enemies; and these, unfortunately for us, are too little inclined to pity to assist us, and too brutal to allow us to help ourselves. While we have been inspecting these novel shelters, the sun has risen above the horizon, and the prisoners begin to appear; for in the middle of the day the heat is too fervid to admit of much activity, and all the little " chores" which are necessary to be performed must be completed during the cool of the morning. The half-naked, squalid wretches, black with smoke and dirt, feebly drag their emaciated forms from the holes into which they had crawled the preceding night, and begin their preparations for the coming day. Passing quietly across the swamp, we hasten up the rising ground on the north side of the stockade, where a full view of the scene may be had at a glance. Taking our station at the summit, we watch the tattered forms as they creep slowly by, making their way to the creek for water. They approach the little stream, some carrying tin cups or pails made of empty fruit cans, into which they have inserted strings or wires to serve the purpose of handles ; some bearing small buckets or wooden pails, which they have fashioned with their pocket-knives from pine sticks, or occasionally one of larger dimensions, formed with staves and hoops; while others bear old boot legs tightly sewed together, and many, very many, go empty handed, having been unable to procure any thing in which to carry the liquid. There is here eA^ery variety of dress, too, from the apparel of Adam before the fall to a ragged coat and pants, and these seem to have grown upon their forms, like bark upon a tree, so black and dirty have they become. There are men with one-legged pants, Prisoners of War. 245 and with no pants at all ; men with coats of which one of the sleeves has been torn away for bandages, leaving the bare arm exposed ; men with no covering but a pair of dirty drawers, too much torn and worn to be decently de- scribed; men without socks and shoes, or Avith one expir- ing shoe, the sole being upon the point of departure ; hat- less men, their long locks glued together with pitch and rolled up like ropes, hanging over their sunken eyes. They gather into a sort of file when they reach the swamp and pass upon the plank to the creek, each stooping down in turn to dip his little cup into the water, and turning back to seek his quarters again. More than ten thousand men, at this hour in the morning, daily visit this spot to get water for breakfast, while the partner of each remains behind to watch their common " effects." But behind this press that loalks to the water side, come other men, who can not walk. They creep upon hands and knees, or crawl upon their breasts, pulling their bodies along hy burying their elbows in the sand. These mis- erable beings, the victims of starvation and the con- sequent diseases, writhe and twist themselves to the stream. But they come not all back; for, overcome with the fatigue of their laborious effort, they creep to one side of the path and die. Presently little fires spring up upon every hand, sending out wreaths of smoke, which rise a short distance above the pen and hover there in a dark cloud, through which the sun looks red. Let us approach these fires and exam- ine the culinary department of the prison. Here are three Tniserable looking beings gathered around a few bits of blazing pines, which they have placed in a hole to econo- mize the heat. Their hands, faces, and garments are black with soot and dirt, and their Saxon features alone distinguish them from the negro. They mix the little ra- 246 Prisoners of War. tion of meal with water and a few grains of salt. This mixture they knead upon a chip, using the utmost care that no particle of the meal be lost, and place the dough upon another green pine chip, and hold it before the smoking fire. It is painful to look upon them during this operation ; to see the greed in their hollow eyes, while they watch the crumbs that occasionally drop from the narrow chip, as the compound, partially dried, is shaken by their trembling hands ; and to note how anxiously they seek each tiny morsel among the dirt and ashes, and care- fully replace it, when found. The bacon is toasted before the fire upon a stick, and, when cooked, has an oily, smoky taste. The mystery of their black appearance is easily solved. Pass your hand slowly through the smoke that rises from their fire, and the oily particles of soot cling tightly to it. Water will not dissolve it, and they have no soap to act the part of the " mutual friend," and bring the opposing elements of oil and water into har- mony. If you rub your hand upon your clothes or your face, the black stain is left, and continuing the operation for a few moments, you have the same general look as the prisoners. This is a fair specimen of the manner in which the bread is prepared for eating ; yet there are other improved methods, while there are those that are even worse. Sometimes a -pone is made by those who have bake pans ; others, again, make mush, upon which a little sorghum is spread ; some fry the dough in fat saved from the bacon ; and yet others make dumplings, or rather, little round balls — in short, every change that hungry men can devise, with the few conveniences they have for the purpose, is rung upon the pittance of corn meal allowed them. But it remains corn meal in the end, notwithstanding the thousand devices to render it palatable. Crossing the narrow paths that wind tortuously among the " shanties," trodden here and there without method by the weary feet of these wretched men, let us pause before this strip of black blanket that is stretched over a couple of poles. Stooping low down, we discover a soldier Prisoners of War. 247 stretched out at full length upon the bare ground. He is literally " alone in the world," and we learn upon ques- tioning him that his comrade, but a day or two ago, died by his side, and has been carried out. He is too feeble to rise, as he tells us, and expects soon to be borne away in his turn. His face is begrimed with dirt, his hair is long and matted, tlie dark skin upon his hands and feet is drawn tightly over its skeleton frame, shrunken, cal- loused, dried, as it were, to the bone. He makes feeble replies to our inquiries, but we learn that he passed the long, dreary winter on Belle Island, where the starvation and exposure to the severe cold sowed the seeds of disease in his system, whose speedy end will be an obscure death and an unknown grave. He is racked with pain, and hopeless ; he knows that a few days at most will end his misery ; but he complains not of his hard fate, and ex- presses his willingness to suffer on, if necessary, for the love of that country whose life he has tried to save. A few steps to the right we find a hideous" object lying in a hole, which his hands have scooped out in the sand. The tattered rags that partially cover him can not conceal the bones that gleam through the skin ; his eyes move fearfully in his head, his hands clench tightly together, his limbs are drawn up in horrible contortions by the cramp. The only motion of which his body is capable is a slow rolling from side to side upon his back as a pivot, and the vermin crawl in vast armies over his wretched person. He takes no notice of passing objects unless particularly ad- dressed, for the world is rapidly going out to him. Placing our ear to his lips, we gather from his faint whispers that but a short time hefore he had left a happy home, flushed with hope and courage, to battle for liberty and right. A fond mother pressed her lips to his brow as, with tearful eyes, she bade him farewell; a kind sister, in cheering words, urged him on to duty ; a brother's hand wrapped the garb of his country's defenders about his form ; and in the field he had performed deeds of valor. He was captured, and — even while we linger beside him a faint shudder passes through his frame, and all is over. He, 248 Prisoners of War. too, will soon be borne away to a nameless grave , and his loved ones shall seek in vain to distinguish him from the thousands that sleep by his side. Just in front of us, we see a throng gathered about an object, which, in other places than this, would draw tears of sympathy from the hardest heart, but scenes of horror are so frequent here that this excites but a passing inter- est. It is a young soldier, born and reared in a fertile township in Ohio ; his early life had been passed among the pleasant vales of that noble state ; every kindness which parental love could bestow had been lavished upon him, and he had ranked high among the promising and intelligent youth of his country — a man of talent, of liter- ary attainments, of noble instincts. But reason is now dethroned, and he tears /^r- y -^^ "' ll. ^ his tattered raffs from his N^/ 1 pci "ff^^ >*^' emaciated form in his ■'^>^~ j^^es:^' 2^-'-"? frenzy, gnashing his teeth ■ and foaming with rage ; but the paroxysm is mo- mentary; his strength is ^^ exhausted ; he falls to the ground helpless as infancy, and is borne away by his com- rades. There is one form of disease which is almost too horrid to be witnessed, j'ct we can not understand the wretched- ness of the prison without looking upon it. This is not a solitary case, but we shall find numerous similar ones before we leave this living charnel house. We instinct- ively pause as we reach the awful sight before us, holding our breath lest we inhale the terrible stench that arises from it. Here is a living being, who has become so ex- hausted from exposure that he is unable to rise from the ground, suffering with diarrhea in its last and worst form. He is covered with his own faeces ; the vermin crawl and riot upon his flesh, tumbling undisturbed into his eyes and ears and open mouth ; the worms are feeding beneath his skin, burying themselves, where his limbs, swollen with scurvy, have burst open in running sores ; they have Prisoners of War. 249 even found their way into his intestines, and form a liv- ing, writhing mass within him. liis case has been repre- sented to the surgeons, but they have pronounced him incurable, and he is left here in his misery, in which he will linger three or four days more. Proper care and treatment would have saved him long ago, but not now, and his comrades abandon him to death. While we are gazing upon this sickening spectacle, the drum beats at the south gate, and the prisoners, dropping their half-cooked food, hasten to form themselves in ranks, preparatory to being counted. Being arranged in irregular lines, the strong men standing for the most part witli uncovered heads — having no hats — the weak sitting or lying upon the ground, the sergeant passes carefully around to see if all the ranks are full, and searches among the huts for those that are unable to crawl to the line. Raising our eyes, we observe that each sentry-box con- tains two additional men, and that they grasp their mus- kets with a firm hand ; the prisoners observe it also, and they know well that some of their comrades Avere missed at the last roll-call, and that the sentinels are there to fire upon any division that breaks ranks before the camp has been thoroughly searched. The ofiicer comes forward, hastily passes from the head to the rear of the column, counting the standing men ; the sergeant leads him to the sick that still remain in their hovels, unable to creep out, and to the dead, and the complement is filled ; he sets the division down as full and passes on, tlie men still re- maining in line. Let us also pass on with the officer till he comes to the division to which the missing man be- longed. It is drawn up in line like the others ; the ser- geant reports his number present ; the officer examines his book and finds that one is gone. The sergeant shakes his head when asked what has become of him ; the men in rank are interrogated, but no reply is obtained. A sick man lying upon the ground points to a hole near by; the officer goes in the direction, stoops down and looks beneath the thin shell of earth ; and there, in the bosom of his Mother — the Mother of us all — the missed one lies. 250 Prisoners of War. dead; dead, unknown to his comrades — to all, but the God who saw his dying struggle, and who will bring him in the last day, a living witness against the fiends that doomed him to such a fate. The lost man found, the extra sentinels are relieved, the men break ranks and resume their occupations; but the sergeant has work yet to do, for the sick of his division are to be gathered up, the helpless upon blankets, those able to walk, in squads ; and all must report at the south gate to receive their medicines. "We pass over to this gate and cast a casual glance upon the mass of wretched- ness gathered there. ISTay shrink not, there are worse spectacles than this in this horrible pit ; there are sights here to freeze the blood, scenes of suffering with which the most frightful pictures of the horrors of hell bear no parallel. Gathered here from all parts of the stockade, and crowded in the small space, is half an acre of human be- ings suff'ering in every form of disease. Some are lying upon the blankets, upon which they have been brought ; some are prone upon the earth, where they were laid by their comrades; some have crawled hither upon their hands and knees; and here they must remain for many long hours in this broiling sun without shelter or pro- tection, waiting — waiting till their turn shall come to be served; yet, fourteen surgeons are busily working in yon- der little inclosure, and each has his assistant, who can prescribe for most of the cases. Here are to be seen the ravages of scurvy and diarrhea, of dysentery and fevers, of hunger and exposure ; and as we stand looking upon the putrid mass, writhing in hide- ous contortions, a sickening stench arises from it that penetrates for miles, it is said, around the prison. "We see men upon whom scorbutic sores have been long at work, and great holes are eaten in tlaeir faces ; their limbs are black and swollen, or like rotten flesh, discharging a yellowish matter that emits this most offensive odor; in some the eyes have been destroyed, and they grope blindly about in the crowd. And here, too, are emaciated forms, Prisoners of War. 251 too weak to walk, and they turn their hollow eyes plead- ingly upon us; they are the victims of diarrhea; their fleshless arms hang languidly' by their sides, and their hollow cheeks are livid with leanness. But few of these men can be benefited now by the surgeon's skill ; many will call for it but a little while ; even while we stand here, some have felt the last agony and expired. W^e turn horror-stricken away from this scene of mis- ery, and, crossing the swamp upon loose boards, reach the street leading back from the north gate. Here is the grand business center of the stockade ; for it is said that the "Universal Yankee," to support life, must trade, and that no two of that enterprising race ever met without "swapping" something. Whether this "unappeasable hankering " for trade had any thing to do with the origin of these hucksters' stands, or not, it is unnecessary to in- quire ; it is sufficient to know that here are gathered some thirty thousand Yankees, and that a regular daily market has been established, at which the owners realize what are to them great profits ; for many of them can more than double the prison ration daily, besides providing them- selves with clothing and comfortable shelter, through this constant interchange of articles of food. Going upon the street, and facing east, we advance through the line of stands upon the north side, noting, by the way, the various articles of traffic. Here are booths arranged in fancy style; a rough slab, split from a log that had been brought in for the purpose, or purchased at a figure which would appal a tradesman in our cities, and covered with a clean rag, or sometimes a strip of paper, cut in various patterns, forms the counter, and upon it is spread the stock in trade, in such a manner as to attract the attention of the passers by ; over the whole is stretched a wretched piece of blanket, an old coat, or a shirt, for an awn- ing. There are others, consisting of nothing but a rough board, which is fastened upon four stakes driven into the ground ; the most common kind, however, is wicker work formed of pine splinters, woven together with considerable skill and taste. But by far the greater number of tradesmen 252 Prisoners of War. are those who have no stands, and who carry on their " little business " upon the street. These men generally have but one or two articles for sale, and carry them in their hands ; or, if they have nothing but meat, by impal- ing it upon a stick, and hawking it about the stockade. First and foremost of these traders are those who deal in the necessaries of life — as peas, pones, wheat flour, and biscuit, corn bread, corn meal, soup, potatoes, rice, meat, and salt. These articles are of course held at almost fabulous prices, owing to the difficulty with which they are ob- tained, and only those who are flush in funds can afford to purchase them. In addition to these, are articles of luxury — tobacco, onions, eggs, soda, red peppers, ginger- bread, soap, taffy, sour beer, tea, apples, peaches, water- melons, pails, wooden dishes, thread, buttons, etc. In ex- change for these, a great variety of things are taken — money, gold and silver watches, and rings, shrewdly se- creted from the lynx-eyed officials during the search prior to admission to the prison. In default of these things, the purchaser gives an old pocket-knife ; a mug carved from wood, in making which he has spent much patient labor; rings made from bones that formed a part of the meat ra- tion ; and laurel pipe-bowls — all of which are readily taken, because they can be disposed of to the guard. Upon inquiring the price of some of these "goods" in greenbacks, we are told that wheat-flour sells to-day for one dollar per pint; peas for thirty cents; corn-meal, fif- teen cents per pint; soup, five cents per half canteen; salt, twenty-five cents per table-spoonful. If we wish for luxuries, we are informed that for a peach we must pay fifty cents ; for an apple, the same. Tobacco is one dol- lar and twenty-five cents a plug ; a plug is nine or ten inches in length, by three in width, and is the cheapest luxury the market afi^ords ; while for soap we must pay one dollar and a half per bar, or go unwashed. The itin- erant traders, like all of that ilk the world over, are the most noisy and persistent ; having little to sell, and that of a poor quality, they try to make up their lack of im- portance in this respect by crying their wares at the top Prisoners of War. 253 of their voices. "Who has this nice ration of beef, for ten cents, only ten cents?" "Who has this dish of rice Boup, well seasoned with salt and pepper, warranted the best on the ground?" "Here you can buy your cheap onions, only seventy-five cents apiece." "Who has this nice pail, warranted not to leak?" "Who is the next lucky man for a plate of rich bean soup, nicely peppered and salted ? try it before you buy, and if you don't like it, you needn't take it." " Roll up, gentlemen, and get a glass of sour beer ; quick, it's nearly gone." " Sour beer ! Bour beer ! 'twill cure the scurvy in twenty-four hours, and will not intoxicate," etc. It is a matter of much curiosity how these articles are procured for sale, and if we can gain the confidence of one of the heaviest merchants, he will inform us that they os- tensibly come through the prison sutler, but in reality the most of them are smuggled in by the guards. This sutler is one of the tools of Winder, Wirz, and Quartermaster Humes, and it is his mission to parade his wares tempt- ingly before the famished men, and wheedle them out of the articles of value which could not be found when they were robbed, giving a mere pittance in return. It is re- ported that he has been authorized by the Richmond gov- ernment to trade for greenbacks, as a special favor to the Federal prisoners, it being treason for any one owing alle- giance to the Southern Confederacy to trafiic in the I. 0. U's of Uncle Sam without a permit ; but it is understood that these greenbacks fall, ultimately, into the hands of the prison officers, who store them up, or put them in circula- tion among the farmers in the vicinity. To preserve a monopoly of trade for themselves, the officers have issued an order making it a great offense against the peace and dignity of the Confederate States of America for any citi- zen or soldier, save and except the sutler aforesaid, to offer for sale, sell, barter, or exchange, any article of food or luxury with the prisoners in Camp Sumter confined, under the pain and penalty, if the off"ender be a soldier, of long and rigorous confinement in the block-house ; and if it be a citizen, of punishment by fine. 254 Prisoners of War. But all these punishments do not prevent a contraband trade being kept up between the sentinels and the prison- ers ; for, upon dark nights, when the keen-eyed military spies (called detectives, for dignity's sake) can not see, at a preconcerted sig- nal the sentry throws a stone, to which two long strings are attached, across the dead line; one of these strings has a loop ring at the end, and is so arranged that it readily slides upon the main cord; to this the prisoner attaches the article which he wishes to dispose of, and the guard carefully draws it up to the box for ex- amination ; if it is satisfactory, he returns the particular commodity agreed upon, and the " trade " is completed. In this manner a heavy contraband business is almost nightly carried on, resulting in great advantage to both sides — the prisoner saving his life, perhaps, and the sentry obtaining a gold watch for which he exchanges flour, peas, etc.; besides, the " raw material " can be purchased much cheaper of the smuggler than through the regularly authorized trader, while the presence of the latter accounts to the officers for the appearance of articles unknown to prisoners' rations, and turns suspicion away from the former. Besides these markets, we find various manufactories, " tinker shops " and barber shops, where the busy work- man labors all day " to turn an honest penny," or to pass away the time, and gain an extra ration. Here wooden buckets are made by the whilom cooper, with pine staves and hoops; rings of bone, and pipes of laurel, by the jew- eler, who also cleans and repairs your watch, if you have one ; here, also, the brewer prepares his sour beer, by put- ting a pint of corn meal into a pailful of water, adding a little sorghum molasses, or a red pepper if he has it, and letting it stand in the sun till it ferments, when the liquor Prisoners of War. 255 is decanted. This " sour beer" has a ready sale, for it is a really valuable remedy for the scurvy, being, as its name imports, acidulous, and tasting like newly fermented cider. We also find the bakeries in this locality, which consist merely of an oven, monitor-shaped : the "monitor" is made by first placing a layer of the mud found near the swamp upon the ground for the bottom, upon which a heap of sand is raised of the desired shape and dimen- sions ; over this a layer of mud is then placed, with an opening for the mouth and chimney, and it is left to dry in the sun. "When it is thoroughly dried, the oven is heated and the dough or meat baked. The " monitor " is generally a partnership concern, one of the firm remain- ing at home in the capacity of cook while the other dis- poses of the articles on the market ; they also take in the raw material and bake it on shares, and thus turn their labor into food. Here, again, we shall find brokers' oflices, where Confederate scrip is exchanged for greenbacks, for gold and silver coin, and watches, rings, etc., and where the broker sits the entire morning changing money of all kinds and descriptions, making his premiums by the dif- ference in value between the Confederate blue and the United States greenback. In fact, we can find almost every kind of industry within this den, wherein men engage to keep their thoughts away* from the misery around them. But there are places, also, where the vices are nurtured — gamblers' stands, where men sit all day over cards and dice, tempting fortune, cheating, fighting, lying, swearing. Here are chuck-a-luck boards, three card monte, seven up and " seven over," faro banks, and all the simpler devices, by which men are wheedied out of their money and valu- ables by tricksters, under pretense of an appeal to the fickle goddess. It is not strange that men who have little to lose should venture it all in the attempt to increase it; for to lose is but to hasten the evil time by a few days at most, while to win may be salvation. Therefore, even gamblers have their share of patronage, and some of them do a thriving trade. 256 Prisoners of War. Leaving this busy scene, we walk around among the prisoners and examine their facilities for procuring water. The main reservoir is the creek, which passes through the swamp ; hut it also runs through the camp of the prison guard, and along the base of the cook house, outside the walls, receiving the refuse and garbage of both of these ; the prisoners within have dug holes in various parts of the inclosure, laboriously excavating the earth with their hands and pieces of canteens, and drawing the dirt to the' surface in old boot-legs. We shall find perhaps fifty of these water holes, but the fluid so obtained is pure and cool, and amply repays the patient toil required in their excavation. Near the northern extremity of the swamp is a spring, bubbling up from the marshy ground, which has been scooped out to a slight depth ; and just outside the dead line is another, a living stream, flowing through a spout, fixed there by some daring prisoner in the dark- ness of night, or, mayhap, by some officer more humane than his fellows ; but it is beyond the reach of the hand, and the prisoners tie their little cups upon a long stick and angle, as it were, for the cooling liquid. Having examined this pen thus hastily, let us pass out again, where we came in, leaving these wretched beings, starving and dying, under the burning rays of this terri- ble sun ; and, if you have been able, in this brief view, to understand the thousandth part of the misery here en- dured, to realize any thing of the horror by which you have been surrounded ; or, on the other hand, if you can call up one thought of pity for the beings in authority over us, who have allowed their humanity to be all swal- lowed up in their vengeful passions, and wjio delight in nothing so much as in torturing us — then your visit has not been in vain. Some time in the latter part of July, General Stoneman made his famous, but unfortunate raid upon Macon, the efi'ect of which was felt at Andersonville, by both prisoner and jailor. There were, at that time, about thirty thou- sand men confined at this place, and it was greatly feared that General Stoneman would ride suddenly down upon "wmm K o Prisoners of War. 257 us, open the prison doors, and set us free. The valiant Captain Wirz was greatly " exercised " at the prospect of his experiment of gradually reducing the rations, until he should ascertain, with infinitesimal exactness, the precise amount of food a Yankee would require to support life, being interfered with, when it was so near its solution ; he, therefore, under General Winder's order, commenced fortifying the place. For this purpose, a large force of negroes was conscripted, and immediately set at work. A strong earth-work was thrown up, some thirty rods from the south-west corner of the stockade, mounting nine light guns, five of which were trained to bear diagonally across that inclosure, to guard against an uprising of the prison- ers in case of attack; about twenty-five rods from the north gate, and a little to the north of it, another earth- work was constructed, of smaller dimensions than the first, shaped like a parallelogram, and mounting five guns, three of which also bore upon the prison pen. Two lines stockade were built around the whole inclosure, about six- teen feet apart, the inner one being fifty yards from the wall of the prison pen. An earth-work was then raised on each corner of the new stockades, except on the south- west corner. A low intrenchment was then thrown up around the north end of the whole, which extended from the main road on the west side to the swamp on the east, and was arranged with angles so as to enfilade every ap- proach from the north, east, and west. If it is remem- bered that the stockade was built upon two opposite ele- vations, it will be seen, by reference to the ground plan, that an attack from any direction upon the force guarding us, would be an attack against us also ; for a gun fired from any point would either be instantly silenced by the artillery upon the fortifications, or its shot must be thrown toward the stockade, with nine chances in ten of its falling among the prisoners themselves — a method of release by no means gratifying to them, however well pleased they would have been to be taken out by their friends. Nor could the place have been taken by siege, for in that event 17 258 Prisoners of War, we must inevitably have starved to death, for the temper of both General Winder and Captain Wirz was such that they would have taken away all our rations for the use of the garrison, and reduced us to the last extremity, before they would have yielded the place. The prisoners were thus made the chief part of their own security. Had Kilpatrick made a raid upon Andersonville, at any time before the fortifying of the place, with a force of five thousand men, and an equal number of extra horses, with arms and equipments, ten thousand able bodied men would have mounted the walls with a cheer that would have made the heavens ring. Indeed, it was currently reported and believed, among the prisoners, that an ex- change had been postponed in order that our government might recapture us, and bright hopes of a speedy release animated our hearts. For days, the poor fellows cast their eyes northward and westward, straining every nerve to catch sight of the liberating host, or hear its heavy tramp in the adjacent forest. The sick stretched out their bony arras to receive the expected succor ; the strong nerved themselves to fight bravely for the coming free- dom. It was a piteous sight to see them sink back, day by day, and the old look of despondency creeping over them, as the bright hope grew fainter and fainter, and a deeper gloom settled down upon them, when the last flick- ering ray expired. Had the "War Department been ad- vised of the true state of the defenses, it might, with lit- tle difficulty, have released us all, at that time ; but, after they were erected, the place could not have been taken without exterminating us. In the early part of the summer, the camp was infested by gangs of thieves and marauders, who committed their depredations upon the peaceably disposed, both in the open light of day and in the darkness of the night. Men were robbed of money, watches, rings, and blankets openly and by stealth ; some, who were known to have money, disappeared mysteriously and were never heard of after- ward ; assaults were frequently made in the streets, the victim knocked down and terribly beaten with clubs, and Prisoners of War. 259 his pockets rifled of their contents; it hecame necessary for the prisoners, in lying down to sleep, to attach their valuahles to themselves, in such a manner that they could not be taken without arousing the shimberer ; and to such a pitch of confidence and desperation did the ruflaans reach, that no one felt secure in retaining any thing of value upon his person either by daj'^ or by night. These villains were called Moseby's Raiders, Moseby's Gang, or, more frequently, " Raiders." They seemed to have a reg- ular organization, with leaders and subordinate officers, and single resistance to their assaults was useless, for the gang was always ready to support any of its members when occasion required. Occasionally a raider was caught by a strong force of the prisoners, and " bucked " or gag- ged ; but this punishment was little regarded, and the criminal, after being released, signalized his repentance by knocking down and robbing the first man that came in his way. They had means of knowing and marking the man who had money ; and, secretly arranging their plans, way- laid him when he was oS his guard, or picked his pockets in the crowd upon the market, or while at the creek for water ; but the more usual method by which they operated, was by open assault ; in these cases, the place where the intended victim concealed his money was first discovered, when he was surrounded by the gang, one of whom seized him by the throat, to pre- vent his crying out, while the remainder relieved him of his treasure. For a long time no notice of these enormities was taken by the prison au- thorities ; in fact, had they been disposed to take the matter in hand for correction, they would undoubtedly have failed in accomplishing any good result, on account of the difficulty of identifying the miscreants. Some time during the latter part of June, their vil- lianies reached a climax ; one afternoon a man was assailed TA4 260 Prisoners of War. by the gang, knocked down, beaten with clubs until he was covered with blood ; his bones were broken, deep cuts made upon his body with the bludgeons, and his watch and sixty dollars in money taken from him. This brutal act aroused the whole camp, for if such atrocities were longer permitted to pass unpunished, every man was liable to similar treatment at any time. A number of the pris- oners, among them the victim himself, represented the facts to General Winder, and appealed to him for protec- tion, but he refused to do any thing more in the matter than sanction any action the prisoners themselves might adopt. At the request of the latter, a force of Confed- erate soldiers was sent into the prison, and eighty-six men were arrested, taken out, and placed under a strong guard. The prisoners within the stockade demanded a trial by jury for these men, and their demand was acceded to by Gen- eral Winder. For this purpose, Captain Wirz summoned all the sergeants of detachments and divisions, laid the matter before them, and proposed that they request each of their respective divisions to select one man to represent it. This was accordingly done, when these representatives chose twelve of the most intelligent from among the men in the stockade to act as a jury, selecting for the purpose those who had but recently arrived, and who had, for that rea- son, seen but few of the raiders' operations ; a presiding officer was appointed; counsel assigned both for the prosecution and the defense ; and a clerk or secretary se- lected to record the proceedings in full. When all the preliminaries were perfected, the accused were separately tried; the assault upon the man, as de- scribed above, being the particular crime in question. The trial was held in the little inelosure around the north gate, and continued about a week. Men were summoned from the stockade as witnesses, and closely and rigidly examined by the counsel for the defense, who had been an attorney before entering the army, and every precau- tion was adopted in sifting the evidence to insure a fair hearing for the accused. When all the witnesses had been examined, the judge summed up the evidence, and pre- Prisoners of War. 261 sented it to the jury, who, after duly considering it, found six men guilty of robbery and murder, and eighty not guilty, upon the specifications presented at the trial. The six convicted men were, thereupon, sentenced to be hanged, and the 11th day of July set for their execution. When the trial was completed, the criminals were placed in the *' lying down stocks," and under strong guard, to prevent their escape, where they were retained until the day of the execution. Meanwhile, the prisoners in the stockade had procured lumber of the prison commander, and about mid- way the south section of the in closure, and a little south of the wagon-road, had erected a scaffold of sufficient height that all within could witness the execution. Ropes were formed by splicing cords belonging to shelter tents, and such other things as could be adapted to the purpose. "When all was in readiness, the criminals were brought in and delivered into the hands of the criminals by Captain Wirz, with these words : " Here, men, I bring you back the prisoners in as good condition as I received them ; you can take them and do as you please with them, and may Ood help you." They were then taken in charge by the prisoners, and conducted to the scaffold, where they were placed upon the drop, their hands and feet fastened in the usual manner, caps were drawn over their faces, and the noose slipped over their heads. At the signal, the trap-door was sprung, and five of the guilty men swung oft" into eternity. The rope of the sixth broke, and, falling to the earth, he made an effort to escape, but he was soon retaken and securely suspended by the side of his fel- low-criminals. The bodies remained hanging for half an hour, when they were taken down and placed in the " dead house," from which they were soon conveyed to the grave-yard and buried. A full account of the proceed- ings, from the beginning of the trial to the burial, was written by the clerk of the court, and transmitted by a flag of truce to the government at Washington. It is painful to record this event, to contemplate these men, who disgraced the colors they wore, by their atrocious deeds ; but justice to the prisoners themselves requires that 262 Prisoners of War. a full statement of the case be published. Some of the pris- oners within the stockade disapproved of the proceedings, considering that they had no right to interfere, to the ex- tent of depriving their fellow-men of life ; the criminals themselves threw their principal defense upon this point, although each asserted his innocence to the last moment. There is no doubt that this terrible retribution was both just and necessary. Their lawless depredations had spread a complete terrorism throughout the stockade ; no one felt secure at any time, either in his treasure or his life, either by day or by night. They had prosecuted their villainous calling so long, and with such impunity, that they seemed to have abandoned all precautions for conceal- ment in their operations. It was a matter of necessity that condign punishment should be inflicted upon the guilty parties, in order that the peaceably disposed might enjoy the limited rights al- lowed them unmolested. There was surely no reason why this additional horror should be added to the already over- whelming wretchedness we were forced to endure; and the inalienable right of self-preservation, secured to us alike by natural and human law, demanded the infliction of the punishment these guilty men suffered. There is no doubt that they were guilty of the crime of which they were convicted. The evidence before the jury was both voluminous and explicit; they were im- partial men, who had not suffered in any manner from their depredations ; they had ample time to consider and weigh the testimony; and, more than all, some of the ill- gotten gains were found in the possession of the accused, and identifled by those from whom they had been taken. A less complete chain of circumstances has often led to the conviction of murderers in courts of justice. Of the character of these men, little need be said. Prisoners of War. 26-3 That they were ruffians before entering the army was evi- dent from the ease and method with which they entered upon their career of crime at Andersonville, and the en- tire absence of all restraint against a full and free indul- gence in their vicious propensities left an open field for their operations. The ease with which they effected their crimes, and the good living consequent upon their posses- sion of ready means with which to patronize the sutler and the markets, were allurements which they neither tried nor wished to resist. The consequences of their wickedness fell upon their own heads, and the justice of their sentence is vindicated by the necessities of the case. The course pursued by the Confederate authorities in the matter is also deserving of credit. It was well known to them, as it was felt by the prisoners, that light or tem- porary punishment would not answer the purpose, and they did not wish to bear the responsibility of inflicting a severe one. They therefore turned the accused men over to trial and punishment by their fellows, only placing within their reach such facilities as were necessary for carrying out the sentence, whatever it might be. The names of the men who were executed are in my posses- sion, but consideration for their friends, if any such re- ' main, induces me to withhold them. A fuller statement than this can be found among the papers of the War De- partment at "Washington. After the execution of the raiders, quiet and security prevailed among the prisoners. Little acts of petty lar- ceny occurred, as is usual in all camps, however well reg- ulated, but nothing of particular value was stolen, and no more brutal assaults were miade for the purpose of robbing the victim. A police or vigilance committee was organ- ized, or rather organized itself, among the prisoners, for the preservation of order in the camp. The purpose for which it was designed yj&s, good, but there were acts of meanness perpetrated by these policemen that deserve the severest censure ; for many a poor fellow, unable to help himself, was unmercifully beaten by them, without any 264 Prisoners of War. reason for their so doing. Yet, on the whole, they per- formed their disagreeable duty with as much leniency, perhaps, as could have been expected, though sometimes failing to discriminate between the innocent and the guilty. In virtue of their office, they received an extra ration daily. Some time in July, permission was obtained from the Confederate government for a number of our men to pro- ceed north, for the purpose of carrying to our government a statement of the situation in which we were placed, to- gether with petitions for relief. These men were to be paroled on reaching a flag of truce point, provided a like number of rebel prisoners were also paroled by the United States authorities ; otherwise, they were to return imme- diately. A mild statement was drawn up, setting forth the fact that we were without shelter and clothing ; that the long confinement we had endured, and the suffering and disease incident to it to which we were exposed, was fast reducing our numbers, etc. The terrible crime prac- ticed against us by depriving us of food, and the appalling sickness and mortality among the prisoners, were not mentioned or hinted at. To this were attached petitions for our speedy release, expressed in as strong terms as our jailors would permit, and signed by a large number of the members of the several divisions. The papers were for- warded, according to the permission granted ; the men reached our lines successfully, and were paroled. But no good resulted from this, except to the men who carried the papers and were set at liberty ; for the statements were made in such a manner as to awaken no further sympathy for us than the government would naturally feel for its chil- dren who were deprived of their liberty, and it was treated as the complainings of men who were unhappy in being thus restricted. Could the real state of the Andersonville prisoners have been known, something would undoubtedly bave been done to relieve our sufferings ; but it was only the most sanguine that anticipated any good results from this mission, and they only were disappointed in the event. Prisoners of War. 265 The messengers bore many letters to our friends at tome ; but, as is well known, a prison letter contains no intelligence bearing upon the manner of his treatment — in short, nothing except the fact that he is still alive and hopes soon to be released. This meager news is doubt- less gratifying to our friends, but at the same time we would like to unburden our minds of the horrors with which they are filled, and receive their sympathy. But this is, of course, denied us, and we must suffer on in silence. Express boxes were occasionally received by some of the prisoners ; but, as at Danville, they had been sub- jected to search by the authorities, and, after leaving their hands, contained nothing more valuable than a loaf of mouldy cake, unfit for eating. All articles of use, either for eating or wearing, were confiscated. Packages of letters, also, came to the prison hj flag of truce; but, under the regulations of Captain Wirz, every prisoner was ■compelled to pay the captain ten cents in silver before re- ceiving his letter. It was very seldom that the villian's exchequer was benefited by this extortion ; for few men in Andersonville possessed any money of any kind, much less in coin. The captain knew very well that the greater number of men had no money at all, and that those who were so fortunate as to possess greenbacks must buy their silver of his sutler, paying therefor an enormous premium. These letters had been prepaid, and bore a worthless pho- tograph of Jeff Davis ; but this made no difference ; the captain must have hard cash, or he would keep the letters. And he kept them. And thus this puerile scoundrel, this sneaking, thieving, cowardly whippet of lilack women and helpless mfen, sought to gratify at the same time his avarice and his spite ; to torment the wretched prisoners, already overwhelmed with disease and starvation, the re- sult of his own barbarity. These letters were valueless to him, but priceless to their rightful owners; and many a famished man would have bargained his day's rations, though his life depended upon them, for the precious mis- sive, bearing tidings of sympathy and love from home. 266 Prisoners of War. No physical torture could equal in intensity this depriva- tion. The poor fellows who had stood in the stocks for four and twenty hours, under a broiling sun, who had en- dured exposure and famine for months without a murmur,, wept like children when they knew that kind words from loved and loving ones had come so near and were with- held. Yet this man gloated over their misery, and be- came profane in his delight at their tears. He carried the letters to his office, and experienced a devilish joy in reading and burning them, with no one to look on but himself. A few incidents may not be without interest to the reader, although there was very little variation in the dull monotony of our existence ; but there was sometimes an occurrence which raised a ghastly smile on our cadaverous faces, even though it was at misery itself. A lieutenant of the guard came into the stockade one day to purchase buttons of the kind used by staff officers. Some of the men had cut such buttons from old uniforms found on the field and preserved them. While he was chaffering with some of the men, one of them quietly slipped behind the officer and cut the buttons from his coat, and, bringing them forward, offered them for sale. The lieutenant looked at them, said they were just the kind he wanted, and paid the price demanded, and soon after went out, where he was informed of his loss. The truth flashed suddenly upon him, and he went back into the stockade in search of the thief; but he had mingled with the crowd and could not be found. He did not trade with the Yankees again for buttons. Soon after the arrival of the negro prisoners from Florida, Captain Wirz sent them out to work on the fortifications, giving them an extra ration for their labor. Seeing "how the thing worked," a white man blacked himself so as to resemble a son of Ham, and when in the morning the negroes were ordered to " fall in for work," he joined the party. He had been out but a short time, however, before the cheat was discovered, when Captain Wirz commanded him to be put into the standing stocks, Prisoners of War. 267 and afterward to receive fifty lashes, and sent back to the stockade. '' He played nigger ; " said the Captain, " I serve him nigger fare." It was a rich joke for the old tyrant, but unfortunate for the culprit. It was a standing order, whenever a new lot of pris- oners was admitted, that a heavy guard be drawn up in line of battle in such a manner as to flank the gate; and the guns in the ports were shotted, so as to guard against an outbreak of the prisoners. Taking a hint from this circumstance, some wag, with an air of the greatest secrecy, conveyed intelligence to Captain Wirz that he had just discovered an extensive plot for an immediate outbreak. It was a broiling hot afternoon, and the doughty captain fretted and swore at his raw Georgia militia for half an hour trying to get them into some- thing like a line of battle. When all were ready, he stood sword in hand, at the head of his brave followers, swim- ming in perspiration, and cursing the " d d cowardly Yankees" for not bursting through the gate, after he had been at so much trouble to give them a reception. It is needless to add that the " Yankees " did not come out. The captain was greatly exercised with a fear that the prisoners would escape, and this dread, undoubtedly, caused him many sleepless nights ; he seemed to think that every escape detracted so much from his honor, and to that extent, damaged his reputation as an officer. On this account, on one occasion, when the prisoners had crowded close upon the dead line, to witness the intro- duction of a new squad of men into the pen, the old ras- cal ordered a shell fired directly over the heads of the throng. No harm resulted from it, but we felt that it was hazardous remaining in that position, and " changed our base," with a degree of haste and disorder highly unbe- coming a body of veteran soldiery ; but we did not relish being operated upon by an undrilled militia gun squad, when a slight depression of the piece, in their unpracticed hands, would land a shell in our midst. Some time in the early part of August, a violent thun- 268 Prisoners of War. der shower came up ; the heavens seemed to be one sheet of flame, and in an instant the earth seemed converted into a broad lake. The little creek suddenly assumed the proportions of a large stream, foaming and dashing furi- ously through the stockade. Becoming dammed by the accumulated weeds and sticks, it finally swept down the walls on both sides, leaving wide gaps, through which es- <^ape would have been feasible and easy, had the prisoners known it in season. On discovering the breach in the wall. Captain Wirz fired the signal gun, and the whole prison guard, consisting of some five regiments, was turned out, with the captain at the head, to prevent accident ; and there they stood, drenched to the skin, the captain's plumage drooping like a wet chicken's, swearing at the poor Yankees, as being the occasion of his soaked skin. The storm, however, passed away, leaving the creek and swamp well cleansed and purified ; and what pleased the captain most, none of the prisoners escaped. Besides the thorough renovation of the camp, it proved an invaluable blessing to the captives in another ajid unexpected man- ner; for near the line of the stockade there burst forth a spring of pure cool water, whose unceasing flow furnished the prisoners with an abundant supply that never after- ward failed. On Saturday afternoons, some of the fair sex usually paid a visit to the stockade, gratifying, at the same time, their desire to see their husbands, brothers, and cousins, and their curiosity to witness an exhibition of live Yankees. These females were generally much pleased with the sight of us, and contrasted our decidedly untidy appearance with the looks of their gentler blooded friends, much to our disadvantage, it is to be feared. Au officer's wife, a northern lady, inquired of one of the surgeon's clerks about the treatment of the prisoners, and was an- swered with a general statement of the facts. Captain Wirz overhearing something that did not please him, called the man to him, and, by dint of much sharp ques- tioning, learned nearly the whole conversation, when he ordered the poor fellow back into the stockade again. Prisoners of War. 269 After this, we were prokibited, by an order, from conver- sation upon the treatment of the prisoners with any one not connected with the pen. Some of these little incidents seem out of place ; and to laugh at the brutal "jokes" played ofl' upon us is like smiling in the face of death. But they exhibit the total unconcern manifested by our jailers for our misery, and the ease with which men delight in torturing others in their power, when all their better feelings are absorbed by the base passions of hatred and revenge. 270 Prisoners of War. CHAPTER XXIII. Rations — Cook Houses — Escapes — Blood-Hounds — Pun- ishments—Ball AND Chain — Iron Collars— Lying-Down Stocks — Removal of Hospitals— Sick-Call — Hospitals The Dead — The Burial— General Winder — Captain "WiRZ. E" the 26th day of May, I was paroled as a surgeon's clerk, and removed from the inte- rior of the stockade ; from this time, during the day, I was at Hberty, when off duty, to wander anywhere within the circuit of a mile, but at night was placed under guard at the hospital. When my duty was done for the day, I generally improved the opportunity to look about me, and to examine, as far aS I could, into the practices of the prison authorities. By this means I became acquainted not only with the character of the men and their disposition toward uo, but also with the manner in which the whole government and supply of the prison was conducted. The rations consisted of corn meal, bacon, fresh beef, peas, rice, salt and sorghum molasses. The corn meal was unbolted, some of it ground with the cob, and often filled with sand and gravel. Much of it had apparently been put up while warm, and had become sour and musty, either during transportation or while in store. The bacon was lean, yellow, very salt, and maggoty ; it had been brought to us unpacked, and was covered with dirt and cinders ; it was so soft with rust that it could easily be pulled in pieces with the fingers. The beef was slaugh- tered near the prison, to which it was brought and thrown down in a pile in the north cook house, where it lay until it was issued to the prisoners. Here, in the hot climate, it <: ."•I'll r ■/ s t I Prisoners of War. 271 was soon infested with flies aud maggots, and rapidly changed into a greenish color, emitting an offensive odor peculiar to decaj'ing flesh ; it was very lean, but the heat rendered it quite tender before it was served up. The article denominated black peas, or cow peas, was brought in sacks, apparently just as it had left the threshing ground of the producer — having never been winnowed or cleansed of the fine pods, and the dirt which naturally mingles with all leguminous plants while growing in the field ; besides, they were filled with bugs, and many of them were so eaten as to leave nothing but the thick, tough skin of the pea in its natural shape. The rice was sour or musty, and had apparently been put up in a half- dried state, where it became heated and wholly unfitted for use. There were two cook houses used in connection with the prison ; the first of these was in process of erection when the detachment to which I belonged entered the pen, and went into operation about the middle of May. It was located on the north side of and near the swamp, west of the prison, and was subsequently inclosed by the defensive stockades. At the time it was built, it was sup- posed to be of suflicient capacity to perform all the cook- ing necessary for the prisoners, and contained two large brick ovens and several kettles, set in brick work, for boiling the meat and peas, or rice ; but, it being found in- adequate to supply the wants of the men, another building was constructed some time in the latter part of August; it was located about a hundred yards north of the defenses, on a line with the west wall of the prison. This was de- signed and used exclusively for boiling the peas and the meat, and contained, perhaps, a dozen large potash kettles set in brick work ; the old cook house was thereafter used for baking the corn meal. A strong force of paroled pris- oners was appointed to perforin the work in these cook houses ; but with constant labor it was unable to supply our wants, aud about one-half of the rations were issued raw. 272 Prisoners of War. The meal was prepared for baking by first pouring it in quantity into a large trough made for the purpose ; a little salt was then added, when water enough was poured in to make it of the proper consistency, and the whole stirred with sticks to mix it thoroughly. The dough was baked in sheet-iron pans, twenty-four by sixteen inches in sur- face and two and one-half inches deep; the whole was divided into pones weighing ten or twelve ounces, and each of these pones constituted a day's ration of bread for one man. The utmost cleanliness could not be observed in mixing this " stuff; " the meal, as above stated, was partly corn and partly cob, and often contained materials that were neither of these ; the water was dipped in quan- tity from the creek, and no means of cleansing it were furnished, and these, with the haste necessary to be made in preparing the dough, conspired to make the mixture unpalatable and sickening, particularly when cold. The prisoners who had charge of the cook house undoubtedly tried to prepare the food as well as they could, but all their efforts were vain with such limited facilities as they had. The peas and rice were boiled in the north cook house ; they were turned from the bags as they were brought to the prison, without cleansing or separation from the chaff and dirt, into the large potash kettles containing the water in which the meat had been boiled ; the cooks here, as in the south cook house, had no means of cleansing the raw material, and, had they possessed the facilities, they had no time to devote to the purpose. To winnow, semi- weekly, a sufficient amount of peas for 30,000 rations, allowing a third of a pint to each, requires a long time, even with the aid of the best machines; but for twenty men to pick over, by hand, this vast amount, is simply im- possible. Of these cooked rations, there were daily issued to each prisoner about ten ounces of bread, a fourth of a pound of bacon, or four or six ounces of beef (including the bone) in place of the bacon, and a teaspoonful of salt; twice a week, a pint of peas or rice was issued in addi- Prisoners of War. 273 tion, and occasionally a couple of tablespoonfuls of sor- ghum molasses. Sometimes a sort of mush was made to take the place of the pone, but, although it was a change from the monotonous corn bread, it was so unpalatable that the bread was preferred. About half of the rations were issued raw, because of the vast amount of labor necessary to cook them in bulk at the cook-houses, or, rather, because the Confederate authorities were too poor, too indolent, or too brutal (probably the latter), to furnish facilities for the purpose; had the prisoners been provided with the means, they would gladly have performed the requisite labor. The manner in which these raw rations were issued has been already described ; it is only necessary to state here that their amount was such as would make the same quantity as the cooked, and that they were issued alternately vpith the latter, one-half the prisoners receiving raw food one day, and cooked the next. I have here given the quantity issued during the early part of the season ; but, as the hot weather advanced, and the number confined here increased, the daily allowance diminished until it be- came but a mere morsel to each man. How we endured such prolonged famine is a mystery ; and that ten thou- sand men were that summer killed, in this most horrible of ways, by General Winder, aided, advised, and com- forted by Captain Wirz, is most certain. From the inauguration of the prison, constant and fre- quent attempts at escape had been made by the prisoners ; and although, in almost all cases, these eflbrts had proved fruitless, the men were willing to engage in them at al- most any hazard. But the attendant difficulties were nu- merous, and hard to be overcome, and had no end till the runaway was safe within our own army lines. Not only were the walls of the stockade to be passed, under the scrutiny of the sharp-sighted guards who were stationed upon their summit, but there were guards posted at night around the prison pen, with bright fires burning, so as to render it impossible to pass them without being discov- 18 274 Prisoners of War. ered. In addition to these precautions, a pack of blood- hounds was kept near at hand, which were every morning led around the stockade, when, if the /'t^l^SJ^ "-^ji^fflX T^" track of the fugitive was j,v_..»fi*r ^^^>^ V/\i 1 ' discovered, it was followed up by the dogs until he was found, or the scent was lost; and, as if these were not sufficient, scouts were picketed upon the principal roads, at a distance of some fifteen miles from Andersonville, to intercept the fugitives traveling upon the highway. The nearest point of security was nearly two hundred miles distant, and could be reached only by crossing an enemy's country, where, to inquire for food or direction would lead to recapture; yet the fugitive must seek both these, with the alternative of starvation, or being lost. But, with all these difficulties before him, many a man attempted to escape from the prison, and, although few ever succeeded, their misfortune in nowise deterred others from making the endeavor; and many persisted in their efforts, even after several unsuccessful attempts. There were, of course, many ways adopted to escape from the stockade; some, though the number was few, scaling the walls, with the aid of a sentinel who had been bought over ; others pass- ing out in the ration wag- ons ; one man simulated death, and was carried out by his comrades, and de- posited in the "dead- house," from which he de- parted, when it became sufficiently dark ; still others feigned sickness, and were taken to the hospital, whence they fled. A frequent Prisoners of War. 275 method of escape was to elude the guard, when the pris- oners were foraging for wood in the forest, but this was soon stopped by Captain Wirz refusing to permit them to go out of the stockade on these foraging expeditions. In fact, every method was so strictly guarded against by the officials that the same mode could not easily be tried a second time without danger of immediate detection. But the most frequent attempts to escape were by means of tunnels, the nature of the soil being peculiarly favor- able to their digging, though but few ever succeeded in getting away by this means. There was no want of labor in excavating them, or of perseverance in carrying them on, and no lack of persistence in beginning new ones, after the old had been abandoned and filled up, on ac- count of its being detected. But there were traitors in the camp, who, to curry favor with Captain Wirz, and to ^ain an extra ration, divulged the work, before its com- pletion, when he would visit the spot, and direct the unlucky operators to refill the " d d hole," under pienalty of being deprived of rations until it was done. The only implements the prisoners could obtain, with which to dig the tunnels, were half canteens and their hands; and the dirt was removed in havei'sacks, and bags made of coat sleeves, or other cloth, which could be picked up, and was thrown into wells, or the swamp. The time for performing the labor was during the dark- ness of the night, while the tunnel was yet in its infancy ; but, when it became advanced, one of the joint operators dug during the day, removing the earth to the mouth of the hole, whence it was carried away at night by his part- ners. "Weary weeks and months were spent in these long tasks ; but, after continued and patient labor ; after, it may be, some who had begun the enterprise had found freedom through the gates of death ; after the work was brought so near its completion that libert}^ seemed within their reach, these patient laborers, compelled to abandon the scheme by the cruel and cowardly informers, yet, nothing disheartened, formed a new plan, selected a 276 Prisoners of War. new place and carried on a new tunnel to end in the same manner as the first. A sergeant of a Minnesota reg- iment told the author at Millen that he had been engaged in digging thirteen different tunnels, every one of which had proved a failure through the reports of his fellow- prisoners to the authorities; yet, he said, he was as anx- ious as ever to try again. At one time, several important tunnels had b^en for a number of weeks in operation before being discovered,, and a general plan of escape based upon them was re- solved upon. They were to be carried directly beneath several of the sentinel stands, and, when the stockade walls were reached, the earth was to be excavated five or six feet back from the timbers, leaving a shell at the top of sufficient thickness to prevent its falling in by its own weight. When all was ready, a number of strong men were to hurry rapidly past the dead line, after dark, and push the sentinel stands outward, when an organized force was to be in readiness to rush through the openings, over- power the guards, and seize the forts and guns. Desper- ate as this project seems, it could easily have been effected,, if it had not been divulged. In all probability, many of the prisoners would have made their escape, for we had men capable of commanding us, and the guard, being raw militia, would have been easily overcome in the surprise and darkness. The leaders in the plan were arrested and put in irons. The scheme did not seem chimerical to Captain Wirz, for, immediately after it was discovered, he caused the stockade to be strengthened by spiking scantling across the logs, so as to prevent their being pushed over. The fact that tunnels were being dug was easily discov- erable by the color of the dirt thrown up in heaps around the inclosure. There was one, however, which troubled the military detectives considerably, and which Avas not discovered until reported by some of those who were in the secret. It was begun in one of the wells, at a proper depth from the surface. The workmen labored upon it every night until near dajdight, when, concealing their Prisoners of War. 277 work by placing a board three or four inches from the mouth of the tunnel, and filling the intervening space so as to make it resemble the side of the well, they retired to their burrows for the day. A plan so ingenious and so faithfully persisted in deserved better success ; but the traitors getting hold of the secret, an extra ration of corn bread overcame their sense of honor. It seemed impossi- ble for a number to escape together ; for, where there was a combination, there was sure to be a foolish or weak one to turn informer. It would also seem impracticable to construct a tunnel among so great a number so secretly that none but those engaged in the work should know of it ; yet such was the case in several instances. After the fugitive had released himself from the stock- ade, his next efibrt was to elude the pursuit of the dogs ; but he was generally overtaken by them sooner or later, notwithstanding every precaution he might take. The animals employed at Andersonville were owned, it was said, by an old negro hunter named Turner, who lived about a mile from the station, and who received thirty dollars from Captain Wirz for every prisoner caught through their agency. Armed with a pair of navy revolv- ers, astride of his mule, and accompanied by his dogs, this old man made his appearance every morning at Captain Wirz's head-quarters, and passed around the stockade, his dogs meanwhile snuffing the ground eagerly. When the track was found, the successful animal set up a fearful yell of announcement, which was answered by all the remain- ing members of the pack, when the man upon the mule's back blew a ferocious blast upon the horn he carried slung over his shoulder, and all the brutes set off together with rapid speed in the pursuit. When the prisoner had a " good start " of twenty-four hours or more, as was sometimes the case, the chase was long and difficult ; but nothing would throw the fierce hounds from the track. They followed on, through swamps and thickets, over hill and ravine, across streams of water, and through the woods, until the unhappy fugi- tive was overtakei^. Two of the dogs of the pack em- 278 Prisoners of War. ployed at Andersonville were trained to attack the man at a signal from the keeper, and this signal was sure to be given if any resistance was offered. Several of the fugi- tives were terribly bitten while offering resistance, and many a one who had eluded the guards and pickets had been returned to the prison with legs, neck, and ears bit- ten and torn in a most fearful manner, and nearly dead with loss of blood. Some of the worst cases of gangrene in the stockade originated in the merciless bite of these savage animals ; and no medicine was ever issued to the victims, nor were they allowed to be removed to the hos- pital. Death by hanging or the bullet was preferable to the slow process of decay caused by the gangrene, which was certain to infect the wounds they had received. The prisoner upon recapture was subjected to several grades of punishment, the first of which was the " stand- ing stocks." This instrument of torture, equaling in bar- barity any thing which history has ascribed to the cunning invention of the Spanish inquisition, was formed of four upright posts, strongly connected together at the top and bottom, so as to make a nearly square frame. Upon the sides of this frame, and near the top, were moveable bars, in which holes were cut for the hands ; each of the bars was made to separate into two parts, for receiving the arm — the notches fitting closely to the wrist when the hand had been placed in position. Above these bars, and at right angles to them, in the middle of the frame, were two other bars, containing a notch for the neck, which also had a lateral and a vertical motion, the latter to enable them to be adjusted to the height of the culprit. At the bottom, were two similar and parallel bars, with notches for the legs. When the victim was "put up," his feet were first fastened, then his arms extended on a line par- allel with the shoulders, and also fastened, and finally his neck " shut in," when he was left to his misery. In this position he was retained for two hours, then released for two hours, and so on during the day. This punishment sometimes continued for two days. And thus, unable to change in the least degree, starving, thirsting, bleeding, Prisoners of War. 279 with the hot sun of a July or August day pouring floods of liquid fire upon his unprotected head, the sufter paid the initial penalty for his rash attempt to regain his lib- erty. After the stocks, came the ball and chain. For this punishment, two men were usually required ; a thirty-two pound cannon ball was fastened to the outside leg of each, with a chain about two feet long, and another ball, weigh- ing sixty-four pounds, chained between them ; the chains by which these balls were at- tached to the legs, were so short that they could be car- ried only by attaching a string to the thirty-two pounder, and raising it by the hand; the sixty-four pound weight was supported by a stick when the victims wished to " walk out." The " jeweh'y " was continued upon the men for three or four weeks, or dur- ing the whim of Captain Wirz. There was one refinement upon the ball and chain which deserves special mention ; it was devised by Captain Wirz himself, and did great credit to his fiendish nature, and his hellish gust for torment. It was denominated the " chain gang," and was used in only one instance. The "gang" as first contained twelve men ; they were fastened together with short chains, twen- ty inches to two feet in length, which were at- tached to iron collars, riveted around their necks, each man being thus chained to the man on his right and left, and the twelve forming a circle ; to one leg of each a thirty-two pound ball was chained, while one sixty- four pounder was fastened to every four by the other leg. There was no possible manner in which the men could lie 280 Prisoners of War. down, sit down, or stand erect with any degree of ease ; yet they were kept in this state for four weeks, in the open ground outside the stockade, exposed alike to storm and sun, with no covering but their ragged clothing, and no protection against the cold dews of the night. One of the gang was sick with chronic dysentery, but the sur- geons' clerks were all forbidden to give him any medicine, and he died under the torture. He was taken out of his irons, after he was dead, and the remaining eleven forced to carry his share of the weight, attached to themselves, until the period of torture had expired. The crime for which these men were "put up " in this atrocious manner, was an attempted escape ; some of them had broken from the hospital, and others had been recaptured once before. Another form of punishment, but somewhat milder, was adopted for less flagrant offenses, although it was also some- times employed for at- tempted escapes ; this was the " spread-ea- gle," or lying - down stocks. The oflender's feet were fastened about twelve inches *= from the ground, and he was left to lie down or sit up, as pleased him best. It was certai nly no easy or desirable position, as the author had occasion to know, but was much preferable to the standing stocks, or the ball and chain. About the 20th of May, the hospitals of the prison were removed to the outside of the stockade, and located in a piece of timber to the south-east of the main inclosure, and the two consolidated into one, which included about two acres of land. It was inclosed by a board fence about six feet in height, was laid out in regular streets, or w^ards, and supplied with water from a creek that ran through the south-west corner, and was unadulterated with the filth and garbage either of the rebel camps or the prison pen. At first, the only covering was several pieces of can- E-^i f^J* ^' e "• ' b V - ,/'' >'-* Prisoners of War. 281 vas stretched over poles, which formed simply a protec- tion against the sun and rain ; but, afterward, wedge tents were provided, and, in a few instances, bunks were placed in them, upon which the sick men could be laid. Further than this, there was nothing between the patient and the earth, except his clothing and such a rag of a blanket as he might chance to possess. There were two classes of paroled men, whose duties connected them with the sick — the one was known as " surgeon's clerks," the other as " hospital attendants " or nurses. It was the duty of the former to attend upon the surgeons at sick-call, write in a book prepared for the purpose the name, company, rank, regiment, detachment, division, diagnosis, and prescriptions for each man apply- ing at the gate of the "sick-call" inclosure for medicine or treatment ; they were also required to put up and dis- tribute the prescribed remedies to the sick who were not admitted to the hospital. I was recommended by the mien from No. 6 prison, in Danville, for the position of sur- geon's clerk (for which act of kind remembrance on their part I shall ever feel grateful), and removed from the stockade, as above stated, on the 26th of May. In this position I continued to act until the 8th of September fol- lowing. When the hospital was first established outside, only two surgeons were in attendance at the sick-call, but be- fore the summer was past twelve additional ones, with each a clerk, were required, so rapidly had disease in- creased among us. It was the duty of the " sergeants of division " within the stockade to report with the sick at the south gate every morning at eight o'clock, or im- mediately after roll-call. Those of the men who were able to walk marched to the inclosure, while the disabled were brought upon blankets, old coats, and sometimes by being supported upon the shoulders of two of their com- rades. The inclosure used for the sick-call was built about the south gate, and contained twelve clerk-stands or booths, which were fitted up with awnings and boards for writing upon and depositing the medicines. 282 Prisoners of War. The principal diseases treated at the sick-call were scurv}', diarrhea, dysentery, pneumonia, ulcers from vac- cination, fevers, gangrene, ophthalmia, and erysipelas; a few others were sometimes met with, but they formed but a small part of the great whole of the misery and wretch- edness to which the men were exposed. To facilitate the treatment for these diseases, formulas had been prepared, in tabular form, and numbered, so as to conform to the name of the diseases or class of diseases which they were intended to remedy. Thirty of these formulas were used at the sick-call. The medicines consisted of quinine, mercurial preparations, cayenne, chloride of potassa, acetic and tartaric acids, gum camphor, salts, sulphur, oil and fly blister, a few decoctions of indigenous roots and barks and newly-distilled whisky ; but, for a great part of the time, no medicines of any kind were in the dispensary. All our prepared medicines came from Macon. Quinine and the more valuable drugs had labels of English manufac- ture, and had run the blockade at Charleston and Savan- nah. Bandages were so difficult to be obtained, that the same ones were washed and used again and again, until worn out; they were made of common, coarse, cotton cloth, and were used without lint or cotton, and from their repeated application became unfit for use, being liable to infect the wound to which they were applied with virus from the one from which they had been removed. The patients examined at the sick-call were of two classes — those prescribed for at the clerk's stand and those admitted to the hospital. The former of these t^o classes was by far the most numerous, on account ot the lack of accommodations for the latter. Those who remained behind were such as did not require special care, and those too far advanced in their disease to be saved by hospital treatment. The number of admissions was limited to the number of vacancies ; and these were caused, not by the recovery and discharge of the pa- tients, not by the enlargement of the hospital, but by death, which silently and swiftly made way for fresh vic- tims ; every man knew full well, when he received his Prisoners of War. 283' ticket admitting him to that living house of death, that the grim messenger had removed a comrade, whose place he was to occupy, waiting and watching painfully, till his turn should come, and another be brought in, as he was carried out. The prisoners who had not recently been vaccinated, were compelled, under severe penalties, to undergo the operation, the surgeons having been requested, it was said by the United States government, to do this, as a pre- ventive against the small-pox. It seemed strange to us that here, where the instances of that disease were so entremely rare, such an order should be given ; but the sequel showed the devilish cunning of the authorities at Andersonville. The virus used was impure, and if the in- oculation with the poison failed (as it did in many in- stances) of carrying off the patient, the wound would not heal, under the influence of the heat, starvation, and im- pure air, and invariably terminated in horrible looking ulcers. I have said that the virus was impure. I judge it to have been so from its effects, and not from a chem- ical analysis of it, but there were cases of vaccination which had been made at Danville, three mouths pi-evious. to our removal to Camp Sumter, that took the same form as every case assumed after our incarceration there.. The worst cases at Andersonville were caused by the vac- cination ; the ravages of the scurvy, it is true, were fear- ful, and it worked in slight scratches and open sores, caused by the stings of insects, but in none of these did it as- sume the horrible form that characterized the inoculated wounds; and the only inference that can be drawn fronj this fact is, that our prisoners were poisoned by vaccina- tion. The scenes at the sick-call were horrible beyond descrip- tion ; yet I will attempt to paint the dreadful picture as clearly as it is possible with words, for here and at the hospital can alone be witnessed the true result of the pri- vations and cruelties to which we were subjected. It must be remembered that diseases here are not of the or- dinary form, such as may be seen at any hospital in the 284 Prisoners of War. vicinity of a populous city, nor are they the result of vol- untary excesses on the part of the patient ; but they are such as were forced upon strong, able-bodied men, with robust health, made more robust by the regimen of long military service in the field, and fortified by the hardships of such a life against disease in every form ; upon men in whose blood no disease had ever lurked, but who, from childhood until now, had been strong and healthy. And it must also be borne in mind that these diseases did not come suddenly upon us, but that they were the results of a sloAV process that crept quietly but certainly on, begin- ning with insignificant signs and ending in death ; or, what is worse, in permanent and incurable disease, that must follow the victim as long as life lasts — an unremit- ting source of pain and misery. When the surgeons and their clerks have taken their places within the sick-call inclosure, the gate in their rear is closed, and the wicket in the great gate opened for the admission of the patients. My " stand" was situated near this wicket, and one-half of the sick passed it on their way to their surgeon for examination. Each surgeon had charge of a certain number of detachments, the numbers designating which were painted upon aboard and hung con- spicuously over the clerk's stand. By means of this guide, any man could readily find the surgeon to whom he must apply to be examined ; and severe punishment was in- flicted upon any clerk who issued medicine to a sick man that had not submitted to this examination. From my position, I could see the men as they came into the in- closure, and trace the line far back into the stockade itself. There on the road running nearly across the area, the wretched invalids had gathered in a dense crowd. Some were standing, or leaning, faint, emaciated, and weak, upon their stronger comrades; others were lying down upon the bare ground ; and over all there hovered a hideous specter of death, which was reflected in their squalid forms, upon their thin, pale faces, and in their large hollow eyes that stared glassily upon us. The earth was black with human beings — a living, writhing mass of Prisoners of War. 28& famishing, agonizing life. Three thousand men daily vis- ited the surgeons for remedies at this place, besides those to whom medicine was administered without a daily ex- amination. On my own book, there were at one time nine hundred and forty-five names of sick men under treatment by one surgeon. Taking this as a basis, the fourteen clerks would have in charge thirteen thousand, two hundred and thirty patients ; and these were exclusive of the men who refused to report at sick-call, and those who were confined in the hospital, the latter numbering about two thousand men. At this time, it is believed that there were not five thousand well men among the thirty-two thousand confined in the stockade. Those who had been longest in the stockade, and those who had come among us in a destitute condition, were the earliest and greatest suflferers. It required time, even in that den of filth and disease, and upon the scanty allowance given us, to break down the strong constitutional health of those men ; but time did effect it, though some struggled long and bravely for life. The detachments were called in regular order, each sur- geon beginning with the lowest number on his list and proceeding to the highest. The surgeon upon whom I attended had charge of thirteen detachments. This would give him, if each division were full, three thousand, five hundred and ten men, over whose health he was called upon to preside. But the divisions were not full, many of them having become reduced more than one-half since they first entered the pen. Each applicant was separately presented, his name, etc., entered by the clerk, the date of his examination and the diagnosis of his disease, and the formula or formulas applicable to his case, carefully noted, when he was turned back into the stockade to wait till three o'clock, before his medicine was served out to him. Let us take the list, as it stands upon my notes, for one day's duty (and it shall be a fair sample of any day during the months of July and August and the first eight days of September), and read the ills that prisoners at Ander- 286 Prisoners of War. Boiivllle are heir to. The first man in the file before us is called, and, after being duly enrolled, begins to remove the filthy rags that he has bound around his arm, disclos- ing a sickening sight. It is a case of vaccination. The impure virus has wrought its terrible design, and here is the result. The incision has become infected with gan- grene, and the upper arm is one mass of putrid flesh, which hangs in lumps in the running sore. It is but slightly swollen, and, where the flesh is not entirely gone, presents a flery red appearance. The arm is nearly eaten in two, and unless the progress of the gangrene is stopped at once, the main artery will be severed, and death ensue from loss of blood. A nauseating stench arises as the bandage is taken ofi^, and this the man must carry with him till death closes the scene ; for, though he is sent at once to the wound dresser, and his arm is washed with nitric acid, the disease is too far advanced to be cured, and only temporary relief can be afforded him. Eighteen similar cases follow, some of them in a little less advanced stage, some even worse than this. All the cases of ulcer- ous vaccination usually report flrst in the morning. Next follow the patients afflicted with gangrene ; of these there are a great number, for the character of the food, the exposure to rains and sun, with the poisonous air they constantly breathe, render the blood impure, and the slightest abrasion of the skin soon becomes a putrid sore. A description of one of these cases will answer for all, for few of them ever received any attention until they were so far advanced as to obtain but little benefit from medicine. This is gangrene: The patient hobbles pain- fully to the stand, supported by a crutch which he has in some way procured, removes the foul shreds of woolen cloth that are bound around his left foot, and discovers the wound. The corrupted flesh has fallen from the bones, and the worms are crawling and tumbling riotously among the naked cords and ligaments, wantonly holding a premature feast upon their unburied food. Terrible as this may appear— it may be called impossible — it is the truth, and a hundred cases, equally awful, were to be wit- Prisoners of War. 287 nessed daily at the eick-call and in the hospital. This man had become so weakened in his intellect from exposure and starvation, that he was unable to take proper care of himself; to protect his naked feet from the blistering sun and the insects, he had torn off the sleeve of his coat and wrapped it around them ; gangrene had found a scratch, and this was the result. The gangrene was a most fear- ful enemy, searching every pore of the skin for a wound, however slight or insignificant, where it fastened itself remorselessly, and clung with a tenacity whose grasp could not be loosened. Sometimes, where the incision in which the vaccine had been placed had apparently healed, it would break out afresh, and the gangrene would find it out and commence its revels ; sometimes kernels under the arm would swell and require the use of the lancet ; a wound was thus made, in which the monster poison rev- eled, till death cut short its career. And these infected men were turned back into crowded prison, to communi- cate their infection to othei's, until nearly all the wretched inmates were decaying, rotting, dropping piecemeal into the grave. The scurvy is another and most frequent disease, and, hke the gangrene, can receive only temporary' relief here. It generally makes its first appearance in the mouth, the gums becoming spongy, frequently bleeding, and the teeth loosened, the breath becomes fetid, the patient is pale and languid, and the flesh swollen and livid in spots. It is caused by confinement to a limited range of food for a lono- time, and usually terminates in a dropsy, when the cords are drawn up, when the limbs become contorted and useless ; the body swells to twice its natural size, the skin puffing out, as if distended with air ; the flesh loses its elasticity, and, being pressed upon by the finger, retains the indentation for a long time. Sometimes the skin bursts open, when a wound is formed, and gangrene, with its auxiliary worms and tormenting vermin and in- sects, brings a horrible aid, and they, working in con- junction, soon destroy the victim. J^early one-half the the number of patients examined daily were afflicted 288 Prisoners of War. with this fearful scourge, very few of whom recovered, some of them lingering for weeks before the fatal termina- tion of the disease. The patients exhibit a hideous spec- tacle, with their long, matted hair, their glarirg eyes, in whose hollow depths the unappeasable craving for food is unmistakably read ; their faces and hands and naked feet covered with dirt and filth; their foul rags hanging in tattei'S over their limbs and their bodies, and swarming with vermin ; yet this spectacle was daily witnessed at the sick- call, was fully known and understood by the prison au- thorities, and nothing was done for our relief, no additional care bestowed upon us, no look of pity or sympathy from, them ever met our eyes. But these were not the only diseases to which we were exposed. Death busily plied his relentless work in other and if possible more painful forms. Diarrhea and dysen- tery, gaunt and grim, attacked the destined victim, and in a few days his strength waned, till the strong man was as weak as childhood ; his skin became livid, and clung tightly to the bones from which the flesh had wasted away ; his eyes sunk back deep beneath his forehead, and were dull and expressionless, and his thin lips were blue and trembling as if with cold. Eighty-seven names of men afflicted with these diseases are on my list for this day's work. Yet, what can be done for these men here ? They can not be admitted to the hospital, for there is no room, and if there were room, it would be useless to send them there, as we shall presently see. We have no med- icines that can counteract the influence of their scanty food, mixed, as it is, with dirt, and decayed, till a dog would refuse to eat it ; and in this climate the hot days and cool, damp nights, the naked earth to sleep upon, and the poisoned air to bVeathe, are swift auxiliaries to these diseases. The patients must inevitably die ; some of them may live a few weeks longer, but in ten days at farthest eighty of those eighty-seven men will lie beneath the turf in yonder Golgotha, beyond the reach of the atrocious tortures that have made their last days a hell. In the month of June, there were twenty-one days of Prisoners of War. 289 rain, and the sky was not clear of clouds for one moment during all that dreary period. At times the heavens opened and poured floods of water down upon us ; then the sun forced its way through a rift in the clouds, and, for a few minutes, scorched us with his flames, when his fire was extinguished by another torrent. The men were drenched in their open pen during the day, and at night they lay down still drenched to sleep upon beds of sand which were saturated with water. When the long rain ceased at last, the hot sun burst out upon them, raising deadly vapors from the swamps, which they breathed, and scorching and parching them with fire ; the thermometer stood at 104° in the shade, and in the open ground the heat was terrific. In consequence of this storm, malignant fevers broke out among the prisoners, and for a long time after they raged with fearful violence. Pneumonia pre- vailed to a very great extent, and hundreds fell victims to its ravages. These cases continued for many weeks, and Ave find their diagnosis upon every clerk's list during the months of July and August. Erysipelas also appeared, but its career was soon run, for the unhappy patient died in a few daj'S, unless the little wash of iodine, which was applied to the infected spot, succeeded in checking it at once. The glaring sun had smitten men with blindness, and they groped their way darkly among their comrades. Yet, in all this misery, squalor, and filth, there was not a ray of hope; the men must sufier on without succor and without help; the weary days seemed months, and the weeks an eternity, till it was as if we had been removed to a land of fiends, which the omnipresence of God could not reach, and a demon more merciless, more relentless than the prince of hell, ruled over us. From eight o'clock till two, the worlc of examining the sick continued. Day after day, for weeks and months, those surgeons labored, breathing the unwholesome air, and in constant contact with those horrible diseases; but they were patient, faithful men, and their sympathy with the victims often benefited them as much as the medi- 19 £90 Prisoners of War. eines they prescribed. But they acted under the orders of General Winder and Captain Wirz, and could do little beyond secretly expressing their adhorrcnce of the bar- barity with which we were treated, and their wish to al- leviate our sufferings. I gladly record the little acts of kindness performed by them, for they were verdant spots in that vast Sahara of misery. Drs. "Watkins, Rowzie, Thornburg, Reeves, Williams, James, Thompson, Pelot, and Saunders deserve, and will receive, the lasting grati- tude of the prisoners who received medical treatment at their hands, during that memorable summer at Anderson- ville. These, with five others, whose names need not be mentioned, were connected with the sick-call, and are to be distinguished from the hospital surgeons, the latter being exclusively engaged within the hospital inclosure. After the examination at the sick-call, the clerks re- paired to the dispensary, which was under the control of Chief Surgeon I. H. White, to put up the prescriptions made by the surgeons ; this process required about an hour's time, and when it was completed, they returned to the sick-call stand, with the remedies, to distribute them to those for whom they were prescribed. The medicines were issued both in powder and in liquid form ; the former were inclosed in papers, but the latter, the dispensary fur- nishing no bottles, were poured into tin and wooden cups, ■or whatever else the invalid possessed. It often happened that dilute sulphuric or nitric acid was the medicine pre- scribed, and this was received in the same utensil as was employed in cooking the food. It is left to the reader to judge what the result might well be. Their work done, the clerks were at libert}- till six o'clock, at which time they were required to report at the hospital, where they remained under guard till the following morning. Much of the time the dispensary was without medicines, and very often only a few of the remedies prescribed were to be had there. Yet the farce of examination was frequently gone tlirougb with and prescriptions made, even when it was known beforehand that there was nothing in the dis- pensary, with which to put them up. Whether the fault Prisoners of War. 291 lies at the door of the chief surgeon, or Captain "Wirz, or of the Confederate surgeons at Richmond, is not known. Probably Captain "VVirz is not to be blamed in this mat- ter, for he could not increase his gains by keeping back the medicines. There were many times, also, when there was no sick-call for several days in succession ; and some- times, after the examinations had commenced, the captain came down from his head-quarters, ordered surgeons and clerks away, and sent the sick men back into the stockade. The reasons for these interruptions were various; some- times a new lot of victims had arrived, and were to be ad- mitted to the prison, a thing easily done, to be sure, with- out disturbing us, by opening the north gate ; but the captain in such a case would have failed to exhibit his martial bearing at the head of his Georgia militia, and the whole prison must be collected to witness the warlike spectacle; sometimes rumors of an extensive outbreak had exercised his mind, and he must get his men in line of battle, a long, tedious undertaking (there being no fences against which they could be dressed), in performing which the doughty warrior expended much patience and many oaths ; sometimes, again, the pen must be searched for tunnels or for missing men ; and on all occasions of like public character, the sick must be neglected ; perhaps the villain feared the Confederate medicines might be of bene- fit to the Yankees if regularly administered, a consum- mation most undesirable both to Winder and Wirz. The number of men admitted to the hospital by each surgeon, never exceeded eight at one time, but the usual number was three. On one occasion, however, soon after the enlargement of the hospital, Captain Wirz issued an order that all sick men, who were brought to the sick-call upon blankets, should be admitted ; acting under this or- der (the surgeon whom I attended being absent), I issued eighty tickets of admission — by far the largest number ever issued in one day. The captain was exceedingly an- gry with me for doing this, and cursed me roundly for it ; but I pointed him to the order and continued about my 292 Prisoners of War. business ; none of the men were sent back into the stock- ade, but the order was speedily revoked. Every person to gain admittance to the hospital grounds, was provided with a ticket, signed bj' the surgeon who ex- amined him. This ticket contained the name, rank, com- pany, and regiment of the patient, together with the name of his disease, and was necessary in order that in case the man died, as frequently happened, before reaching the hos- pital, his name might be properly registered in a book kept for that purpose. When he reached the hospital he was laid upon the ground, near the gate, and inside the inclosure, where he remained till the hospital attendants had sufficient unoccupied time to place him beneath the shelter of a tent ; sometimes he was compelled to lie in the open air till sundown, and sometimes he was not moved till the next morning ; many died at the gate while wait- ing to be placed in the tent. If he survived long enough,, he was taken up by the nurses, carried to a vacant spot in the hospital, and deposited upon the bare ground, to re- main until death should make his place also vacant. The hospital inclosure was laid out in streets, and the tents were pitched in rows or blocks, to facilitate commu- nication with the patients ; the tents were of the wedge form, arranged so as to face due north, and were open at both ends ; the center pole was about five feet high, and the canvas sloped quite to the earth, forming the sides of the shelter; five men were usually placed in each tent. There were, besides the " regular " tents, a few coverings made of canvas, stretched over poles; these were more open than the "wedges," and were larger and more con- venient ; a few wall tents were also to be found, but they were mostly used for storing the medicines. There was nothing on the ground for the sick to lie upon, and their feverish forms, with no covering except the wretched rags they chanced to wear, were deposited upon the naked earth. About two thousand sick were constantly in the hospital ; some of the patients remained there for a long time, but the majority were speedily released by death. The diseases treated at the liospital were similar to those Prisoners of War. 293 already described, while we were speaking of the sick-call, the only difference being that they were generally at a more advanced stage, and that there were a great num- ber collected in a small area. For convenience in visiting the sick, the surgeons had divided the hospital into wards, in each of which was a ward-master with a company of nurses. The internal regulations for performing duty, were similar to those of the United States military hospi- tals. Each of the surgeons had charge of two or more of the wards, which he visited daily, passing around among the men and hurrying through with the disagreeable duty as rapidly as possible. There were generally six, and sometimes seven physicians in attendance, and dividing the sick equally among them, would give nearly three hundred to each. With so many to visit daily, and with so few conveniences for supplying their demands, these men could do very little good. The invalids did not want the surgeon's skill ; food was the only medicine that could afford any relief, and the surgeons could not furnish that. The rations for the hospital were prepared by paroled prisoners, and did not differ materially, either in kind, quantity, or mode of cooking, from those issued to the prisoners in the stockade. Occasionally, however, a few vegetables found their way to Andersonville, but their , » J . --^5 V - , ■'- -. ^■' V f / Prisoners of War. 363 thorities furnishing none. Many dug holes in the ground, into which they crawled, burrowing in them as at Ander- sonville. Our rations were two-thirds of a pint of corn-meal, three table-spoonfuls of rice, four ounces of fresh beef, in- cluding bone, and a tea-spoonful of salt. In lieu of rice, black peas or sorghum molasses were sometimes issued. A certain number of barrels of sorghum were allowed per week to the camp. In many of them the molasses had crj'stalized and adhered to the sides and bottom of the barrel, to the depth of three or four inches. This formed the most valuable part of the article, but Quartermaster Humes* would not allow the prisoners this part of their ration, so that our supply was often cut off one-third from the little the Confederate government designed for us. The peas were filled with bugs, and at least one half the amount allowed was utterly unfit for use. Refining some- what upon our cookery at Andersonville, we placed our ration of peas in water before boiling it, when those that were worm-eaten, rising to the surface, were skimmed off and thrown away. As at Camp Sumter, the hucksters soon made their ap- pearance among us. Taffy, made from sorghum, sweet potatoes, tobacco, red pepper, thread, etc., purchased from the guards, formed the chief articles of sale; a thriving business was also done in soup and in corn and pea bread. As many of the prisoners had no cooking utensils or wood for fires, the more enterprising often realized a double ration, by exchanging the manufactured article for the raw material. Brick ovens had been built, and ' As nothing good can be Baid of this fellow, no mention was made of him in the account of the Andersonville prison, although he held the post of quartermaster at that place. He was a Baltimorean, and, like all deserters, was naturally predisposed to little acts of meanness, of which the above is an example. He made himself par- ticularly obnoxious to the prisoners by first gaining the confidence of the unsuspecting, and placing them in the stocks in return. He had all the natural villainy of Captain "VVirz, without sufficient intellectual vigor to carry it out, hence he confined himself to petty annoyances and little tricks. 364 Prisoners of War. two kettles for each one thousand men set in arches, but they were never used for cooking, because a supply of wood for the purpose was never provided by the quarter- master; and as the small amount obtained by the men was procured by private enterprise, none were willing to put their individual shares into a general fund for cook- ing the rations in a mass, to which, if such a course had been adopted, the contributions must have been very un- equal. A month's experience at " Camp Lawton " proved to us that our condition had been in nowise improved by the transfer from Andersonville. The exposure was rapidly thinning our numbers ; our rations were not sufficient to support life for any extended period of time under the most favorable circumstances, and here, where no artificial heat could be obtained, the blood of the strong man be- came torpid, and refused to do its office. A hospital for receiving the sick was established in the north-west corner of the area, but no shelter was provided, no blankets given those who occupied it, and medicines were not issued there. The only advantage to the sick man in this ar- rangement was that he would be certain to be found by the surgeons, who were examining with reference to the special exchange. From this hospital those who were deemed unfit to stay in the stockade were transferred to a hospital outside the pen, where they remained until for- warded to the exchange point. Those who were not taken to the outer hospital were left to roam at will in the inclosure without medicine and with no other treat- ment than that afforded to the other prisoners. They died at an average rate of nine per cent per month. It was horrible to pass around the area at sunrise, and see the dead men who had expired the night before. Some of them had fallen upon the open space, and been unable to rise ; others crawled wearily to the side of a stump, as if to be near some object, however inanimate, when the last agony came upon them ; some sought the borders of the stream, perchance that its soft ripple might soothe the parting spirit with gentle music as it quitted the poor Prisoners of War. 365 tenement which had been its home ; others forced them- selves into the empty ovens and beneath the unused ket- tles, while still others burrowed themselves more deeply into the ground, digging their own graves, as they nestled down into the bosom of earth, for its genial warmth to shelter their freezing limbs from the beating storms; and when they were gathered up and removed for burial, their clenched hands still clung to the friendly breast that had cherished them, refusing to release their hold, and carry- ing the torn fragments with them to the tomb. And yet the dead, turning their glassy eyes upon us, as we passed, were not more horrible than the living, with their pinched faces, blue with cold, trembling as they hugged their al- most naked forms with their bony arms, in a vain attempt to retain the heat which was not there, or collecting in groups to gather warmth from numbers, ever and anon changing places, that the outer circle might be relieved from the pinching cold, while those within assumed their places, to come back in turn. So these pale, haggard wretches, starved and froze day by day unnoticed, and were buried like brutes. Hope of exchange had died within us; not a ray of light penetrated the thick gloom of the prospect before us. The only thought of the strong and healthy was by stout resistance to put oH' the evil day a little longer ; but we felt that it must come soon to' all of us, when the brief struggle would be over. Confederate officers came daily into the pen to solicit re- cruits for their service. A few hundreds joined them, but their motives were well understood. They intended only to relieve their own personal suffisrings, and if ever put in action at the front to desert. Though their services in the Confederate army boded no good for the rebel cause, the conduct of these men can hardly be justified. They had already passed many months in prison, had nearly "fin- ished their course;" perhaps true courage would have re- fused the oflfer, and met death rather than disgrace. But what will not a man give for his life? Let us not judge 366 Prisoners of War, them too harshly, remembering how sorely they were tempted. On the day of the presidential election, a ballot-box was opened, and some three thousand votes cast for Mr. Lin- coln, and nearly a thousand for McClellan. The election passed off very much as elections usually do. The police were principally " Dimocrats," and exercised petty tyranny over the sick and helpless, who preferred Lincoln to " Lit- tle Mike," by knockina^ them down and beating them with their clubs. I make mention of these outrages only to show the character of the men who were willing to serve the Confederate cause. The police were a privileged class, serving their masters well. They were in league with those artisans who deserted their colors to labor in Confederate work-shops, and all true Irishmen will spurn them when they hear of the shame they have brought ui3on a brave, generous, and noble race. The rebel authorities had large handbills struck, offer- ing tempting terms to mechanics if they would come over to their side. These were posted upon the walls outside the pen. Had they been placed within it, they would have been torn down as insults. But few were drawn from their allegiance by this artifice. Taking all who were released as mechanics, and those who enlisted, they would not number three hundred men. The recruiting officers had honor enough to feel ashamed of their busi- ness, though they tried to hide it behind faces of brass. I had offered my services, which had been accepted, ■early in E"ovember, to assist the surgeon in collecting the sick, and taking their names, etc., for the special ex- change ; and when the work was finished, one of the doc- tors had volunteered to use his influence to have me ex- changed with the rest as a hospital attendant. On the 14th, while I was wandering about the camp, a friend ran hastily to me, announcing that I was desired to report im- mediately at the gate for exchange. Thinking that the doctor's promised efforts for my exchange had been crowned with success, and without stopping to look after my luggage, which consisted of an old haversack, several Prisoners of War. 367 cooking utensils, which I had made while waiting for the train at Opelika, and a small quantity of rations, ready to be " made up " for next morning's " trade," I rushed for the gate. I passed it " all right," and hurried up to head- quarters under guard. Here I found several comrades, among them my old friend Beach, through whose kind offices my name had been brought to the commander's notice, and reporting myself, waited further orders. When the captain who commanded the post had allowed us to wait long enough to satisfy his dignity, he approached us, and administered the parole of honor, not to escape while on duty. This done, we were informed that, on account of so many prisoners being exchanged, the prison post was in want of men to work in the slaughter-house, and that we could take our choice between going there and working or going back into the prison. Although this did not look favorably toward an immediate release, we were not long in choosing, and were soon installed in i)usiness. I remained here four days. The business was not new to me, and in it I found something to relieve the terrible monotony of prison life. We slaughtered thirty- five head of cattle per day. The animals were small and very lean, averaging about three hundred and fifty pounds each. This, after deducting rations for the officers and guards, left about one-fourth of a pound per man per diem, including the bone, which in lean cattle bears a large proportion to the meat. Sunday morning, the 20th of November, the captain sent down an orderly commanding us to report at once to head-quarters. A rumor had been put in circulation by the quidnuncs to the effect that those whose term of serv- ice had expired, and none others, were to be immediately exchanged, and that all who applied for exchange must take an oath to that effect. Acting upon this rumor. Beach would not go to head-quarters ; but the rest of us went. When we reached the office, the captain said: " ITow, boys, there are twenty -five of you, twelve of whom can go on this exchange this afternoon. I want to be fair and honorable in deciding who shall stay." He then put 368 Prisoners of War. twenty five ballots, upon twelve of which was written the word "go," the remainder being blanks, into a hat. These being well shaken, we advanced as our names were called and drew our fate. It was a curious as well as an impressive scene to watch the shifting shades upon the swarthy faces of these ragged, dirty men, as each ad- vanced with trembling hand and bated breath, and to see the eagerness with which each watched the other as he called the magic word with exulting heart or crept hope- lessly back to his place with the fearful blank in his hand. Every fortunate ticket was counted as it was drawn, and the diminished or increased odds more carefully noted than ever mortal watched the fatal wheel of fortune; for life itself was now at stake. Home, friends, plenty, exist- ence; prison, neglect, starvation, death; these were the alternatives. Upon those bits of paper, not an inch in surface, hung all our future. The strong men who had faced death upon twenty fields, had marched with scorn- ful pride to the cannon's mouth, had met unflinching the. stern charge and hurled back the recoiling foe ; men who had famished for fourteen weary months, exposed to storms without shelter, to pestilence without the means of ward- ing it ofl^ or escaping from it, and never murmured — wept like children over the bit of white paper that lay in their hands. Nerves strong as steel, strained to their utmost tension by the hope of release, suddenly relaxed as the new-born hope expired, and became soft and weak as those of a babe. My name was the last upon the list, and all the world's goods would not tempt me again to un- dergo the agony of sus- pense with which I watched the drawing of those ballots. The re- vulsion of feeling I ex- perienced when the little paper, being opened, revealed the word " go," overpow- Prisoners of War. 369 ered me, and I Btood entranced, unable to move, as one in a fearful nightmare, till a desperate effort forced a loud shout from my lips, and I was free. The gloomy prison, with its train of hideous experiences, its specters of woe, wretchedness, and death, vanished. The very air seemed laden with vivifying fragrance, bearing health, life, upon its wings. A new world was opened to my eyes — a beau- tiful world, where every bough dropped healing balm and every hill seemed a paradise. 24 370 Prisoners of War. CHAPTER XXYI. Paroled — Rebel Truce Boats— On Board Ship — Home- ward Bound — Northern Soil — Furloughed — Views of THE Prisoners — Tables — Conclusion. {IST the afternoon of the same day, we were pa- roled ; while this was going on, a citizen came in with the news that General Kilpatrick's cavalry, forming the right of Sherman's ad- vance, was near Macon, tearing up the railroad and devastating the surrounding country. This news, to- gether with our new "situation," made us jubilant, and three cheers, long and loud, rent the air. "We left Millen, and about 8,000 prisoners, just as twilight was deepening into night, reaching Savannah at daylight the next morn- ing. A rain storm had set in about midnight, and heavy clouds still hung about the sky, dropping their chilling burden upon our unprotected persons, as we disembarked from the train into the streets of the city. Many of the prisoners still doubted the sincerity of the exchange, and believed that we were again being removed from Millen to a more secure pen ; but to the better informed, the nature of the parole, which was the same as that given to those who had been sent through our lines at the front, just after a battle, was sufficient evidence of its verity. The first train load of prisoners which had passed through Savannah for the fleet, had been so well treated by the citizens, who had distributed many comforts and little luxuries among the half starved men, that, upon our arrival, guards of infantry and cavalry had been stationed on both sides of the street, and, indeed, marched by our sides to the levee, to prevent any little outbursts of tender- hearted sympathy which might be exhibited in our be- half. Whether the Confederate authorities feared kind- Prisoners of War. 371 ness would, from its novelty, have an injurious effect upon the prisoners, or that the exercise of charity would quench the far-famed lire which had been so often kindled in the southern heart, did not transpire ; bayonets and cavalry swords effectually repressed every attempt at making the experiment, to prove which of the two hypotheses was correct. Reaching the levee, near the city gas-works, the column halted for an hour, in the cold mist that had set- tled down upon the river, waiting the transports that were to convey ns to Venus Point, where our fleet lay at anchor. But the storm, and the cold, and the hunger, were all for- gotten, or unnoticed, in the exulting feelings which ani- mated our breasts. The hour seemed an age to our im- patient spirits. I have read of philosophers, who have remained calm and collected, and coolly observant of " things," amid the sudden and unlooked for transitions of fortune, manifesting no emotion of joy or grief by so much as a change of muscle or a sparkle of the eye ; but, however desirable such control of nerves, or such stolid- \Xy, whichever it is, that can wear an air of indifference on all occasions, may be, it was an accomplishment far be- low par with us at that time ; and I am inclined to the be- lief that those same stoics would be completely cured of their insensibility by a return to liberty after a year spent in southern military prisons. It would scatter the dusty proverbs of their philosophical theories to the winds. And if any devotee of indifference doubts the practicability of this view, let him try it ; the experiment would be a com- plete test. Two small river boats were moored to the levee where we halted, with steam up, waiting for the signal to take us on board and move forward. Dignity and red tape be- ing at last satisfied, the flag of truce boat " Beauregard" steamed past, with the white flag at the mast-head. In- stantly we were ordered to embark, and in a few minutes were in motion, following our leader in line down the stream. We rapidly passed the rib work of a new iron- clad, which forcibly reminded us of our own skeleton ap- pearance, and saw the numerous torpedoes lying in wait to 372 Prisoners of War. blow the Yankee gun-boats into — the surrounding coun- try, upon the shortest notice, if they should dare to pass up the stream. The presence of these formidable ma- chines was revealed by sharp pointed timbers attached to them, and inclining down the stream. Three of these "sharp sticks" were observed close together in one local- ity. There was a large fort and extensive earth-works on the right bank, near the " obstructions," bristling with cannon, so trained as to crush any hostile fleet that at- tempted to pass them. I counted thirty-six heavy siege guns, as we passed through the obstructions alone. In addition to these shore batteries, two heavy iron-clads, like twin Cerberi, guarded the passage through the ob- structions. It seemed to us, though we were landsmen, to be sure, that it would be utterly impossible for our fleet to- ascend the river past these batteries, and that the attempt to do so, would insure the almost instantaneous destruc- tion of every vessel that made it. "We reached our fleet, which was anchored at Venus Point, at two p. m., and were kept in waiting two hours, before all the preliminaries were settled, when we were transferred to the steamer " Star of the South." The rebel transports, having discharged their burden, turned about and steamed up the river, the cloud of black smoke growing smaller and smaller, finally disappearing in the distance. It was not until these vessels had vanished around the bend of the stream that we felt ourselves free ; and the loved flag, which floated so proudly over our heads, assui-ed us that this indeed was no error. I had been under the guard of rebel bayonets just four hundred and twenty-six days ; had passed over more than three thousand miles of railroad ; had been confined in five dif- ferent prisons ; it is no wonder, therefore, that, as I turned my eyes from those filthy rebels and their dirty vessels to the neat uniforms and clean deck of the stately ship on board of which we then stood, and noted the contrast, I felt as if I had discovered a new race of beings, a higher order of existence, than I had ever known before ; and I doubt if Columbus and his crew were more joyful, when Prisoners of War. 373- they landed upon the new hemisphere, than we were in embarking upon a United States vessel. The next morn- ing, we were placed on board the screw steamer " General Sedgwick," and, at five p. m., moved down the river, past Fort Pulaski, and onward into the open sea. The wind had blown all day from the ocean, and was increasing in force as we passed out of sight of land into darkuess. Our *' rocking in the cradle of the deep " that night, will never be forgotten by the " land lubbers" that were taking free passage to the North. Our aerobatics certainly possessed a, high order of merit. Somersaults were so frequent that the beholders lost all interest in them, while constant standing upon our heads would have certainly produced vertigo, if there had not been as constant a change to an upright position. . The next morning found the good ship tossing and tumbling about on the billows, and the wind seemed to us to have increased to a hurricane. The sailors, how- ever, lounged about with such unconcern as to convey the idea to us that it was but a zephyr; and if we had had any fears of going to the bottom, their sang froid would have put them to flight. The storm subsibed dur- ing the day, and it continued fair for the remainder of the voyage. As we jjassed the straits, and entered Chesa- peake Bay, we saw the fleet preparing for the expedition against Fort Fisher. When opposite Point Lookout, we could plainly descry the high wall of a military prison, where the captured rebels were held, and the cloud of smoke that hovered over the spot indicated that they had no lack of fuel, whatever other articles of necessity they might be deprived of. Reaching the harbor, at Annapolis, about midnight, we cast anchor, and waited for daylight before proceeding to the dock. Here we were received by a band of music, playing the "Star Spangled Banner;" the sick were placed in ambulances, while the well men marched to the barracks, within the city limits. Here facilities were fur- nished for bathing, a process with which we had been lono- unacquainted ; new clothing was issued, in exchange 374 Prisoners of War. for the filthy rags we had so long worn. As soon as the necessary acts of cleanliness were performed, the boys, having procured stationery and ink, were soon busy in- diting letters to their friends, announcing their arrival in a land of civilization and Christianity. And many a lov- ing heart was made glad by the tidings that the dear one, mourned as lost, was once more near. From the barracks we were removed, the next day, to parole camp, some two miles beyond the city limits, on the Baltimore and Annapolis Eailroad. Here the same kind attention was paid us as we had received from the moment we stepped on board the steamer, near Fort Pulaski. The officers and attendants of the camp seemed to vie with each other in their efforts to minister to our wants. Anxious friends came seeking for loved ones, but many, very manj", turned away sad and disappointed from a fruitless search. The United States Sanitary and Chris- tian Commissions deserve a lasting praise for their gener- ous and welcome aid, in furnishing us with stationery, clothing, and a great variety of necessary articles, which the government could not give. After two or three days' stay at this camp, the Secretary' of War issued an order that we be furlouglied for thirty days. Two months pay was given us, and the necessary papers for the commuta- tion of rations. On the 8th of December, I received my furlough, and immediately started for home, where I ar- rived on the 11th. Here, surrounded by friends and plenty, I rested, after fourteen months experience in rebel prisons. Although my narrative, were it exclusively a personal one, would properly end here, my task would be incom- plete without a somewhat more particular account of the feelings and opinions of the prisoners themselves in re- gard to the course pursued by our own government in the matter of exchange. It was understood why the exchange was dropped in the first instance, but it was believed that the policy which Prisoners of War. 375 caused the old cartel to be abrogated was wrong from the beginning. We admitted that the negro soldier was en- titled to the same protection as the white man, and should have received it; but, to insure this to him, it was not necessary to insist upon no exchange at all. A system of retaliation could have been devised by which a body of rebels, equal in number to the negro prisoners, could have been subjected to the same treatment as the blacks re- ceived, and there would have been still enough to ex- change man for man for the white Federals ; for, after the exchange was abandoned, there was at all times a sur- plus of prisoners in the hands of the Federal government. If this system had been proffered by Mr. Stanton, and de- clined by the rebels, even in that case, it would have re- moved from our minds the impression that we were left to bear our tortures unpitied and uncared for, and nerved us to greater endurance. But we seemed to be forgotten. When the rebel lines closed around us on the field of con- flict, we appeared to enter a horrible abyss, and no thought from those whom we left behind followed us. We found an earthly hell, and oblivion rolled between us and those we had been separated from. But it was more galling to our spirits than this seeming neglect — than the superhuman sufferings we endured — to feel that, while we starved, our enemies fattened under the government which had abandoned us; for we well knew that no motives of humanity would induce those placed over us to mitigate our condition, that no sympathy from them would alleviate our wretchedness one iota ; nothing, in short, would induce them to treat us like human be- ings but actual fear of experiencing torments like those inflicted upon us. It was understood among us that when rebels were captured they were treated as prisoners of war are treated among civilized nations, and, so long as this was continued, there was no hope for us. We felt that thej' had a fell purpose in view which they would persist in carry- ing out until they were compelled by retaliation to abandon it. The declaration made by the ofiicers at Danville, that " we noio have them lohere, with the severity of the climate and 376 Prisoners of War. harsh treatment, nature will do its work faster than the bullet," followed by the continued acts of barbarity which were inflicted upon Federal prisoners subsequent to that declara- tion, were suflicient evidence to us that our fate was the result of design on the part of the Confederate govern- ment. For, by this means alone, during the year from October, 1863, to October, 1864, at least 50,000 men were rendered incapable of ever bearing arms ; if the contest could be prolonged for a number of years, at this rate of destruction, nature would indeed do the work, and there would be no need of the bullet. It was rumored among us that Mr. Stanton had reported, as one reason why the exchange was not re-ojjened, that to give a strong, healthy rebel, ready to be put into the field the moment he had passed our lines, for a naked, half-starved skeleton, emaciated by disease, exposure, and starvation, and incapable of ever again serving in the army, was not an equal exchange. This logic seemed hard to us, for we believed the rumor to be true. If the prisoners held in the North had been the only means in the command of the rebels for filling the ranks of their now depleted armies, we should have submitted to our wretched condition without a murmur, thinking we were still serving our country. Or if, on the other hand, the prisoners in the power of the rebels had been necessary to keep our armies full to the maximum, we should have considered the reputed statement of the Secretary of "War as being less oppressive. But even if an able-bodied rebel had been exchanged for a loyal " skeleton," and the latter discharged from further service, there was an able- bodied northern man to take his place ; so that, even in this view, the " statement " was without good and sufli- cient reason to support it. We did not believe it to be just that we, who had stood like a wall of flre upon our borders, that those whom we protected might live in the midst of plenty, enjoying a prosperity almost without a parallel in the history of the country, should suffer death inch by inch because we had become so reduced in health and strength as to be incapable of further military Prisoners of War. 377 service. Neither did we consider tiiose left behind, en- gaged in the peaceful pursuits of civil life, to be under less obligation than ourselves to defend a government as much their own as ours. Surely, if they were not willing to make the sacrifice, if there were not men enough at home with sufBcient patriotism to offset the balance which might be made against us by exchanges, while the popu- lation of the North was so much greater than that of the South, the Republic was a failure and not worth pre- serving. It was urged by some of the prisoners that it would have been wrong for the United States to adopt retaliatory measures, because the prisoners in its hands were innocent men, in no way accountable for the cruelties we were made to suffer. So were we innocent men, said the other ■side, personally innocent of any crime against the Confed- erate States. Yet we were held to suffer for the act of our government in carrying on war. Why should not thej' suffer in the same manner ? Every tree is known by its fruit ; and judging the policy of the system of non-exchange by this standard, we believe it to be a complete failure. All the prisoners whose opin- ions were entitled to consideration believed our govern- ment to be animated with a desire to do what was for the best in the premises. But at the same time, they did not fail to criticize its acts, while they admitted the purity of its motives. The experiment of non-exchange and non- retaliation cost the lives of fifty thousand as good and true men as ever faced a hostile cannon, more than the half of whom might have been saved and returned to duty. It is useless to urge that the rebels had no supplies with which to feed and clothe us, in palliation of their barbarity ; for food, if not material for clothing, existed in abundance. There was no reason for their stripping us of our clothing when we were captured, or of stealing the supplies sent us at Danville. They might have provided shelter against the storms and the heat, as well as wood for fuel. They might have imprisoned us in other places than s\\^amps, 378 Prisoners of War. reeking with malaria and pestilence. They might have- placed us in charge of men in whose nature the brute was not superior to the human, and by whom our sufferings might have been greatly alleviated. And if they were unable to treat us as civilized beings, they could have set us free. They professed to be fighting for the principles of liberty ; but that principle which requires the sacrifice of whole hecatombs of helpless enemies, by the slow tor- ture of starvation, is sprung of fiends, and not of liberty. Below are tabular statements, showing the relative amounts of rations and clothing issued to prisoners of war by the two governments: One ration issued by the U. S. govem- ernment per day to rebel prisoners of war: Hard bread 14 oz., or Soft bread 18 " or Corn meal 18 " Beef 14 " or Bacon or pork 10 " White beans 1-16 qt. Hominy or rice 1 7-25 oz. Sugar 2 1-4 " Rio coffee 1 1-8 " Tea 2 3-4 dr. Hard soap 2-3 " Candles, adamantine 1-20 or tallow 1-16 Salt 1-50 qt. Molasses 1-100 " Potatoes 3-10 lb. Vinegar 32-100 gi. Clothing issued by U. S. to rebel pris- oners at Fort Delaware, from Sep- tember 1, 1863, to May 1, 1864: Overcoats 2,680 Jackets and coats 1,094 Flannel shirts 6,260 Pants 1,310 Drawers .'. . 7,176 Pairs woolen socks 8,807 " bootees ' 3,840 Woolen blankets 4,387 One ration issued by C. S. A. govem- meni per day to Federal prisoners of war: Corn meal meal, unbolted. .9 oz. Beef 4 " or Bacon 4 " Peas 1-16 qt. Rice 1 oz. Soft soap 1-32 dr. Sa,lt 1-lOOqt. Molasses 1-300 " Clothing issued by C. S. A. to Federal prisoners in all places, from Sep- tember 1, 1863, to November, 1864 :. None. .^^5J l^ \^' '/ f- ^<.-j ■^ 1-*"' ? J t i — \' o ; w a Prisoners of War. 379 I have taken great pains to ascertain the exact amount and kinds of rations issued at Camps Douglas and Chase, and at other places, where large numbers of rebel prison- ers have been confined during the war. I have received statements from several reliable persons, in reply to letters soliciting information upon the subject, and believe what is set down in the above tables to be true. As regards the allowance afforded by the rebels, I am able to vouch for it myself, having many times weighed and measured what I so often divided among twenty-five men ; and there are thousands of living witnesses, in the various parts of the United States, who will corroborate my statement. Not only was no clothing issued to us, but even a por- tion of that we had when captured was taken from us. The supplies sent through the lines while we were at Dan- ville were in part kept back, and of those who received a portion, the majority exchanged it for eatables with rebel sutlers, in anticipation of a speedy exchange — an antici- pation excited by rumors set afloat by rebel agencies. It was well known that half-starved men would part with any thing they possessed in return for food, particularly when they believed that a few days, at most, would put them into a situation to obtain a new supply ; hence the fre- quent rumors of exchange, until all our clothing was in rebel hands. The following extracts from a report submitted by Brigadier-General Barnes, in command of prisoners' camp at Point Lookout, are presented without comment: " Office of A. C. S. of Prisoners of "War. " Point Lookout, Md., April 15, 1865. " Prisoners of war, in accordance with general order No. 1, of Brigadier-General H. W. Wessels, commissary- general of prisoners, dated "Washington, January 13, 1865, are now allowed the following rations, viz.: Pork or bacon, ten ounces (in lieu of beef) ; salt or fresh beef, fourteen ounces; flour or soft bread, sixteen ounces; hard 380 Prisoners of War. bread, tea ounces (in lieu of flour or soft bread) ; corn meal, sixteen ounces (in lieu of flour or bread). To one hundred rations : Beans or peas, twelve and one-half pounds; or rice or hominy, eight pounds; soap, two pounds ; vinegar, two quarts ; salt, two pounds ; which rations are of the same quality as those issued to the United States troops, and are drawn by the assistant com- missary of subsistence of prison camp, from post com- missary, on requisition for the number of prisoners in camp, and re-issued to each mess-house in bulk, there to be cooked in large boilers made for the purpose, and served out to the prisoners thus : Each cook-house, of which there are seven, originally intended to feed one thousand men per diem, being able to accommodate five hundred at a time, is now made to furnish food for two thousand and upwards, is under the charge of two ser- geants, one to superintend the cooking of the rations, and the other (both are prisoners) the serving of them out. The camp being laid out in divisions of a thousand men each, is so arranged that each cook-house, as far as prac- ticable, shall feed two divisions twice a day, and to avoid any confusion, each division furnishes to the cook-house where it gets its food daily the number of men present, which must agree with the number stated on the morn- ing the report is made to the provost marshal. " Bread is delivered each noon for the twenty-four hours succeeding to the sergeants in charge of companies of one hundred men, who issue it to the men they have in charge. Each day at dinner the prisoners received a largo cup of bean or pea soup, and in the morning re- ceived the ration of beef or pork, as stated. They are marched up by companies to the number of five hundred at a time to each cook-house, and eat the rations prepared for them, and set on long tables, out of tin-ware, which is always kept clean and bright. " Every care is taken to keep the cook-houses perfectly clean and the food properly cooked and served. Once each week the provost marshal inspects the houses, and the medical officer of the day inspects the food daily. Prisoners of War. 381 The assistant commissary of subsistence of prison camp visits each house daily, and is strict in seeing that food, utensils, and houses are kept clean, and that each of the employes attends to his duty. " Sugar and coffee or tea are issued to the sick and wounded, in conformity to Greneral Order No. 1, above re- ferred to, in the manner therein specified. " Prisoners employed on public works are allowed the following rations, viz.: " Pork or bacon, 12 ounces (in lieu of beef) ; salt or fresh beef, 16 ounces ; flour or soft bread, 18 ounces ; hard bread, 12 ounces (in lieu of flour or soft bread) ; corn meal, 18 ounces (in lieu of flour or bread). " Per one hundred rations : Beans or peas, 15 pounds ; rice or hominy, 10 pounds (in lieu of beans or peas); coffee (ground), 5 pounds; coffee (green), 7 pounds (iu lieu of ground coflree) ; tea, 16 ounces (in lieu of coffee) ; sugar, 12 pounds; vinegar, 3 quarts; soap, 4 pounds; salt, 3f pounds; which they receive in the following manner: These prisoners receive daily, in the same way that other prisoners do at the cook-houses, the same rations that are issued to the bulk of the prisoners, and once every ten days the assistant commissary of subsistence of the camp issues to the sergeant of each detailed squad the difi^erence between the ration already received and the allowance as above. The sergeants in charge of details then divide this surplus equally between the men under them. There are about one thousand men employed on public works, viz., 350 on fortificationB, and 650 by the post quartermaster. " Soft bread is almost invariably furnished ; in fact, hard bread has never been issued, except to prisoners ar- riving at this depot too late to have bread baked at the bakery on the point. In all instances the rations are fresh and good, and are the same in quality as those issued to the United States troops. Every care is taken to have the rations (and they are) fairly served out, and especial care is taken to have them properly cooked and prepared. 382 Prisoners of War. Rations are now issued to about 19,500 prisoners, exclu- sive of those in hospitals. " Very respectfully, your obedient servant, " C. H. Whittbmoore, "■Lieutenant and A. C. S. of Prisoners of War. " Brigadier-Gtbneral James K. Barnes, " Commanding District St. Mary's, Point Lookout, Md." "Prisoners' Hospital, " Point Lookout, Md., April 15, 1865. " General : — In compliance vs^ith your request, I have the honor to submit the following report, regarding the medical treatment of prisoners of war under your com- mand : " The camp is divided into divisions of one thousand men each ; each division is under the charge of volunteer medical officers from among the prisoners, whose duty it is to treat those slightly sick in quarters, and report all serious cases to the United States medical officers in charge of all the divisions of camp, for examination, with reference to their admission into hospital. "A daily sick call is held in each company, the same as in regiments of our own troops. " The hospital proper consists of nine large wooden wards, each ward having sixty hospital beds complete. " In addition to these wards, there are sixty hospital tents, floored, and with beds. " There are separate and detached wards for measles, erysipelas, and other contagious diseases. The hospital for small-pox is located one mile from the prisoners' camp and hospital. " The medicines drawn for the use of the prisoners are of the same kind and quantity as issued to our own troops at military posts. " The diet of the sick is the same as in United States general hospitals for the treatment of our own sick. The savings on the army rations constitute the hospital fund, Prisoners of War. 383 and is expended the same as in other hospitals, in the pur- chase of articles of gxtra diet for the sick, such as butter, cheese, milk, corn starch, farina, vermicelli, macaroni, soda crackers, eggs, apples, onions, and such other vege- tables as the market affords; the amount thus expended from July, 1864, to March, 1865, inclusive, being fourteen thousand, four hundred and forty-eight dollars and six cents. " Large issues of clothing have been made to prisoners coming to the hospital in a destitute and suffering condi- tion. "A large percentage of the sick treated have been those received from the front in a feeble condition, or coming from other parts. Especially is this true of scurvy, and diseases of scorbutic and malarial origin. "Accompanying this report is a copy of the general summary of monthly report of sick and wounded, with a tabular list of the most common diseases and deaths, by which it will be seen that, with an average of nine thou- sand three hundi-ed and seventy-four (9,374) prisoners per month, from July, 1864, to March, 1865, inclusive, there were one hundred and forty-seven deaths montlily, being a ratio of fifteen and seven-hundredths per one thousand men. From September, 1863, to June, 1864, inclusive, with an average of seven thousand four hundred and ninety-one (7,491) prisoners per month, there were sixty- two deaths, monthly, being a ratio of eight and four-tenths per one thousand men. " The prevailing diseases are diarrhea, dysentery, remit- tent, intermittent, and typhoid fevers, pneumonia, and scurvy. " I am, very respectfully, your obedient servant, " J. H. Thompson, "Swgeon U. S. V. in Charge. " Brigadier-General J. Barnes, Commanding." 384 Prisoners of War. Gross amount of articles purchased from hospital fund for extra diet from July, 1864, to March, 1865, inclusive. Butter lbs. 6,087 Cheese lbs. 5,107 Con. milk doz. 276 Eggs doz. 2,976 Soda crackers bbls. 189 Apples bbls. 50 Farina.., lbs. 1,782 Corn starch doz. 177 Macaroni lbs. 3,000 Vermicelli lbs. 3,000 Pearl barley lbs. 2,498 Onions bbls. 77 Turnips and other vegetables bbls. 348 " I certify that the above is a true statement, compiled from the monthly statement of hospital fund for the months included above. J. H. Thompson, "Surgeon U. 8. V. in Charge." " Head-Quarters District op St. Mart's, " Provost Marshal's Office, " Point Lookout, Md., April 19, 1865. " General : — In accordance with yourinstructions,Ihave the honor to report the manner in which the prisoners-of- war camps are conducted at this post: « " The prisoners are divided into divisions of one thou- sand each, in charge of a non-commissioned officer detailed for that purpose from regiments doing duty at this pest, and again divided into companies of one hundred each, in charge of a non-commissioned officer selected from the prisoners, who are held responsible for the cleanliness and good behavior of the prisoners under their charge. Prisoners of War. 385 On the arrival of prisoners, they are required to deliver to the provost marshal, for safe-keeping, all moneys and valuables in their possession. Each package is marked with the owner's name, regiment, and company, and is so registered and returned to them when leaving for exchange or discharge. Of the available currency a book is fur- nished them, upon which they are allowed to purchase from the sutler such articles as are allowed by the com- missary-general of prisoners. Any money sent them dur- ing their confinement is placed to their credit in the same manner. Letters are allowed to be written and received by the prisoners, and when examined, if found unexcep- tionable, are immediately delivered. They are allowed to receive from their fi'iends, ' upon a permit from the pro- vost marshal,' such articles of clothing as they may re- quire, provided that they are of the proper quality and color. " The prisoners are comfortably quarted in Sibley tents, wedge tents, and wooden structures covered by shelter tents. The camps are thoroughly inspected every Sunday morning, and the prisoners paraded in by divisions, each man with his blanket, and any found in a filthy condition are required to bathe and wash themselves and clothing at once. For this purpose they are allowed free access to the shore in rear of the camp on the Chesapeake Bay. The camps are thoroughly policed daily, and the sanitary con- dition is fully equal, if not superior, to any regiment of our own troops in the field. " Very respectfully, your obedient servant, "A. G. Brady, "Major and Provost Mar. in Charge of Prisoners of War. " Bkigadieh-General James Barnes, "Commanding District St. Mary's, Point Lookout, Md." The number of reported deaths per month for the eleven months beginning March 1, 1864, and ending Febru- 25 386 Prisoners of War. ary 1, 1865, at Camp Sumter, Andersonville, was as fol- lows: March., ............ 278 First sis days of Sept. ..... . 576 April 544 Balance of Sept. and Oct 3,719 May 699 November 494 June 1,291 December 170 July 1,733 January, 1865 199 August 2,990 Total 12,693 Sixty-four of this number died of small-pox. From the 1st of July, 1864, to the 1st of January, 1865, the prisoners at Andersonville died at the rate of twelve per cent per month. During my imprisonment at Dan- ville, were some four thousand men were confined, four hundred and seventy died, making an average rate of about two-thirds per cent per month. At Millen and Sa- vannah, our prisoners died at the rate of nine per cent per month. The total number of deaths at Belle Island, for the quarter ending March 30, 1864, was one thousand three hundred and ninety-six. On the other hand, at Camps Chase and Douglas, there were about eighteen thousand men confined, out of which, it is said, one hun- dred and thirty, or about thirteen-eighteenths per cent, died per month on an average. In one day, at Anderson- ville, one hundred and twenty-seven bodies were deposited in the dead-house! How is this enormous discrepancy in the lists of mor- tality to be accounted for ? It can not be on the ground that the Federal prisoners were of less robust constitution than the rebels, for the system of non-exchange was not adopted till nearly all the regiments in our army had been in the field for at least a year, during which time those who were physically incapable of enduring the ordinary hard- ships of military life had been " weeded out " of the ranks, and sent home or detailed ; neither was it because of the climate alone, although the malaria filling the atmosphere of the swamps in which we were placed undoubtedly had a baleful influence on our health, for in many districts Prisoners of War. 387 as far south as Andersonville, where our troops were sta- tioned, no such results followed. There can be but one answer to the question : Disease induced by the poverty of the food ; in short, starvation. Above I have given data from three of the prisons ; eleven more are yet to be accounted for. And when the great record is made up, there is no doubt it will show that from January, 1864, to January, 1865, thirty thousand men were swept into the grave, and twentj' thousand more phj-sically disabled for life by this atrocious treatment; men as brave and true as ever fought for sacred truth and justice, suffering martyrdom by the most horrible tor- tures ingenious human fiends could devise, for no crime save that of striving to maintain the rights their fathers bequeathed them. Those who were engaged in this wholesale slaughter of helpless men have denied the charges presented in this and similar accounts. Oificial reports have been referred to, to show that the tale has been falsely colored. A little insight into the manner of keeping the medical reports will show their fallacy as a basis upon which to found a correct opinion of the facts. Had the war closed by treaty, a final adjustment would have been made, by which the number of prisoners taken could have been compared with the number returned, when the terrible list of mortality would have been disclosed. But it will never be known how many brave men have paid the last penalty through the barbarity of their captors, and a search for the truth among official records will be fruit- less. The surgeon's report was made weekly and returnel to Eichmond, showing the number under medical treat- ment, the number in hospital, the number in camp receiv- ing medicine, the number discharged in camp, the number discharged from the hospital, and the number of the dead. A summary of these reports was occasionally made up and returned to the authorities at Washington. An order was issued by Captain Wirz requiring all who were sick to report daily at the sick-call, or no medicines would be issued to them. Every one who reported at sick-call, ac- 888 Prisoners of War. cording to the previous rule, must be personally examined by the surgeon before receiving his prescription. It bad been the custom to require " standing " cases to be re- ported only occasionally, since the disease (scurvy) de- manded the same treatment daily for months, or until it viras cured. To these men the clerks bad been accustomed to carry the proper medicine as the patient needed it, both to save time and to relieve the surgeons of a part of their herculean labors. It would have been impossible, under the nev7 order, to examine all these cases personally in one day (there were more than nine hundred obtaining medi- cine from the surgeon I attended), and, if that had been possible, the same remedies would have been prescribed day by da3\ Captain Wirz knew this, and confidently anticipated the result which followed. Six hundred and fifty patients, who had daily received medicines at my sur- geon's stand, were discharged and their names struck from the list of the sick. They were returned on the sur- geon's report as cured — no other return could be made — when, in fact, the little medicine which they had been in the habit of receiving had merely been the means of coun- teracting the effects of the disease, and not of eradicating it; as soon as the medicine was withdrawn, they grew rapidly worse, and many of them died. The awful reality of the torments inflicted upon the un- fortunate victims of this war in rebel hands can never be known, except by those who survived it. The constant craving of the appetite from day to day and from month to month; the continued exposure to the scorching sun and drizzling rains, destitute of clothing and shelter; lying upon the wet ground, and inhaling the poisonous air arising from the swamp, infected as it was with the stench of decaying fiesh that was dropping from living bodies by our side as we slept; covered with vermin, that crawled in myriads over our persons in spite of constant vigilance ; the complete isolation; the absence of employment for mind or body; the dismal recurrence of horrible scenes day after day ; the despair of release, or an improvement in our condition ; the dreary sense of desertion and deso- Prisoners of War. 389 la.tion — all these made up a picture of horror which no pen can describe, no pencil depict. In the foregoing pages the half has not been told ; in- deed, my pen has tried to soften the dreadful picture as much as possible. But what is written is truth, every word, unyielding truth. The following description of the transfer of the prisoners from Millen and Andersonville to the United States steamer, " Star of the South," at the time I was exchanged, was written by an employe of the sanitary commission, on board the vessel. Although the incidents there related did not come to my notice, others of a similar character were known to me at the time, and I do not hesitate to say the account is in no particular overdrawn : " J^o human tongue or pen can ever describe the hor- rible sufferings we have witnessed this day (Nov. 20th). I was early at the landing, at half past eight o'clock in the morning, before the boat threw out her ropes for security. The first one brought two hundred bad cases, which the naval surgeon told me should properly go to the hospital near by, were it not that others were coming, every one of whom was in the most wretched condition imaginable. " In a short time, another boat load drew near, and, oh ! such a scene of suffering humanity I desire never to be- hold again. The whole deck was a bed of straw for our exhausted, starved, emaciated, dying fellow-creatures. Of the five hundred and fifty that left Savannah, the surgeon informed me, not over two hundred would survive ; fifty had died on the passage ; three died while the boat was coming to the land of liberty. I saw five men dying as they were carried on stretchers from the boat to the naval hospital. " Some had become insane ; their wild gaze and clenched teeth convinced the observer that reason had fled ; others were idiotic ; a few were lying in spasms ; perhaps the real- ization of the hope long cherished, yet oft deferred, or the welcome sound of the music sent forth by the military 890 Prisoners of War. band, was more than their exhausted natures could bear. When blankets were thrown over them, no one would have supposed that a human form lay beneath, save for the small prominence which the bony head and feet indi- cated. Oh, (rod of Justice ! what retribution awaits the perpetrators of such slow and awful murder. " The hair of some was matted together, like beasts of the stall which lie down in their own filth. Vermin were over them in abundance. Nearly every man was darkened by scurvy, or black with rough scales, and with scorbutic sores. One in particular was reduced to the merest skele- ton ; his face, neck, and feet covered with thick green mold. A number who had government clothes given them on the boat were too feeble to put them on ; and were carried ashore partially dressed, hugging their cloth- ing with a death grasp that they could not be persuaded to yield. It was not infrequent to hear a man feebly call as he was laid on a stretcher, ' Don't take my clothes ;' 'Oh! save my new shoes;' 'Don't let my socks go back to Andersonville.' In their wild death struggle, with bony arms and hands extended, they would hold up their new socks, that could not be put on because of their swollen limbs, saying, ' Save 'em till I get home.' In a little while, however, the souls of many were released from their worn-out frames, and borne to that higher home, where all things are registered for a great day of account." Another gentleman, writing of the condition of the prisoners taken to Wilmington, North Carolina, who had been exchanged, says : "After nerving myself for the visit, and trying to pict- ure all the horrors while riding slowly over the half mile to the house where they had been collected, my brain reeled for the moment, as the sickening reality burst upon me. Officers came in, and those who had never quailed on the field of death, whose cheeks had never blanched, there stood aghast, with tears in their eyes, grinding their teeth, clenching their hands, and thanking God that there was a hell. Pale, haggard, and emaciated skeletons glared Prisoners of War. 391 on us from glassy eyes, where the light of reason was just expiring. With matted hair and skin blackened with pine smoke, scarcely covered with the filthiest shreds of cast-ofl" rebel clothing, without blankets, and most of them without coats or shoes, they gazed at us with an al- most idiotic stare, while the majority could, with diffi- culty, be roused from their listlessness. Many had for- gotten their names; some could be aroused, and their memories quickened, by asking them of their homes, their wives, and their children — these magic words bring- ing them back from the grave into which they were sinking so fast; Many were dying of starvation, with their hands clutching the bread our soldiers had brought them." It is useless to multiply such scenes as these ; they oc- curred at every exchange point, and at every arrival of a load of prisoners ; northern papers have circulated ac- counts of them over the entire country. But if the ap- pearance of a few hundred was so terrible to an occasional witness, what must have been the emotions of those to whom, for three months, it was a daily occurrence to be- hold thousands in the same condition ? And what must be the feelings of the survivors against the perpetrators of these enormities? Greater crimes never lay at the door of any people, civ- ilized or savage, than were perpetrated by the Confederate government upon helpless prisoners of war. From the first battle of Bull Run till the last guerrilla fight of the war, it was their custom to rob their captives of their clothing, and when their cause grew hopeless under con- stant defeat, they turned their pitiless rage against their helpless foes. The great crime which sent our President to his bloody grave, whether by the sanction of the rebel rulers, or not, was the legitimate offspring of the same spirit as doomed us to slow and terrible death. Our con- dition must have been known to the Richmond authori- ties, for the medical reports revealed it ; yet for fourteen months we suffered, and were only relieved when fear of Sherman and his invincible army compelled them to move 392 Prisoners of War. us. It seems useless to give trial to the subordinates in these fearful assassinations, and to allow the chief offend- ers to go unpunished, for thej' were only carrying out the orders of their superiors in command in their full scope and spirit; rather let the infamous plotters of these deeds also suffer — the men whose word alone, had it been spoken, could have changed our condition from death to life ; the commanders of their armies, the head of their nation. These are the guilty parties ; all others were but willing accessories. The survivors of all these atrocities have returned — a band of heroes and martyrs for Liberty's sake — and it re- mains to be seen what adequate return will be made to them for their sufferings. Nobly have our soldiers fought and nobly died upon the bloody field, to save our beloved country from destruction. All honor to their holy mem- ory. But these have sacrificed more than life, for tbey bear about them seeds of disease, which will render that life painful and wretched while it is prolonged, ekeing out a miserable existence through years, it may be, of physical torture, crippled and maimed, till the grave, most welcome, shall receive their " last of earth." To the memory of the illustrious dead, whose feebler bod- ies yielded to the dreadful tortures, let monuments of marble and granite rise, to record the holy sacrifice; to tell to the pilgrim, as he visits those fields of blood where they lie in- terred, the horrid tale of barbarity to which they fell vic- tims, and to show to coming generations the terrible suf- ferings, the heroic endurance, the unflinching fortitude, with which their ancestors met and vanquished the rebel- lious enemies of their great and noble and happy country. The foregoing narrative was written before Captain Wirz was arrested by the Union authorities, and tried for cruelty to prisoners of war. A brief outline of the cir- cumstances connected with his arrest and trial is made as Prisoners of War. 393 a fitting conclusion to the horrible story here so imper- fectly told. Some time in May, 1865, while I was acting as clerk at General Thomas's head-quarters, a communication was re- ceived from Major-General J. H. "Wilson, then in com- mand of the cavalry forces of the Army of the Cumber- land, inclosing the following letter: "Andbrsonville, Georgia, May 7, 1865. " General : — It is with great reluctance that I address you these lines, being fully aware how little time is left you to attend to such matters as I now have the honor to lay before you, and if I could see any other way to ac- complish my object, I would not intrude upon you. I am a native of Switzerland, and was, before the war, a citizen of Louisiana, and by profession a physician. Like hun- dreds and thousands of others, I was carried away by the maelstrom of excitement, and joined the southern army. I was very seriously wounded at the battle of Seven Pines, near Richmond, Virginia, and have nearly lost the use of my right arm. Unfit for field duty, I was ordered to re- port to Brevet Major-General John H. Winder, in charge of Federal prisoners of war, who ordered me to take charge of a prison in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. My health failing me, I applied for a furlough, and went to Europe, fromi whence I returned in February, 1864. I was then ordered to report to the commandant of the military prison at Andersonville, Georgia, who assigned me to the com- mand of the interior of the prison. The duties I had to perform were arduous and unpleasant, and I am satisfied that no man can or will justly blame me for things that happened here, and which were beyond my power to con- trol. I do not think that I ought to be held responsible for the shortness of the rations, for the overcrowded state of the prison (which was, of itself, a prolific source of fearful mortality), for the inadequate supplies of clothing, want of shelter, etc. Still, I now bear the odium — and men who were prisoners have seemed disposed to wreak their vengeance upon me for what they have suffered — I, 394 Prisoners of War. who was only the medium, or, I may better say, the tool, in the hands of my superiors. This is my condition. I am a man with a family. I lost all my property when the Federal army besieged Vicksburg. I have no money at present to go to any place ; and, even if I had, I know of no place where I can go. My life is in danger, and I most respectfully ask of you help and relief. If you will be so generous as to give me some sort of a safe conduct, or, what I should greatly prefer, a guard to protect myself and family against violence, I should be thankful to you ; and you may rest assured that your protection will not be given to one who is unworthy of it. My intention is to return with my family to Europe, as soon as I can make the ar- rangements. In the meantime, I have the honor, General, to remain, very respectfully, your obedient servant, "Hy. Wirz, " Captain C. S. A. "Major- General J. H. Wilson, U. S. A., " Commanding Macon, Georgia. Immediately on the receipt of these papers, I made a statement to General Whipple, chief of staff and A. A. G. to General Thomas, setting forth some of the facts embod- ied in my narrative. From this and other considerations brought to the attention of General Thomas, Captain Wirz was taken into custody and forwarded to Washing- ton, to await an investigation of the charges made against him. The indictment presented against him charged him, 1. With conspiring to injure the health and destroy the lives of United States soldiers held as prisoners of war by the Confederate States ; 2. Murder, in violation of the laws and customs of war. The court-martial, which convened August 24th to try the accused upon these charges, was composed of Major- General Lew Wallace, president; Major-Generals Gres- ham, Mott and Lorenzo Thomas, Brigadier-Generals E. L. Bragg, Fessenden and Ballier, Brevet-Colonel Aleock, and Lieutenant-Colonel Stibbs. Colonel JST. P. Chipman was appointed judge-advocate. The counsel for the prisoner Prisoners of War. 395 were Louis Schade and 0. II. Baker. To the charges Captain Wirz pleaded not guilty. The testimony brought out upon the trial disclosed the horrible condition of the stockade and the infamous con- duct of the officers in command in all its atrocity. The robberies of the prisoners made under the eye of Wirz, with his consent and by his approval, were fully proved. The inhuman punishments inflicted for the infraction of arbitrary prison rules, by men who through sickness and starvation were wholly irresponsible, were fastened upon him. The remorseless beating of the helpless, the orders issued by him to shoot men who presumed to beg a mor- sel of food, the orders which placed men in stocks, in chain-gang, sick, dying, starving, in the broiling sun, with- out shade, shelter, food or water, were fixed upon him, not only by the testimony of prisoners who had suffered from his brutality, but by that of rebel soldiers who were guards of the prison pen acting, under him, and by docu- mentary evidence which was captured from the rebel war office. While his able counsel endeavored to show that Captain Wirz was acting under the orders of superior offi- cers, which, as a soldier, he was compelled to obey, they were unable to obscure the fact that their client was guilty of most atrocious treatment of prisoners while acting under the extensive discretionary powers with which the commandant of so large a military station is necessarily invested. The malicious torturing, maiming and killing of the helpless men in his hands was most clearly proven against him. He was found guilty, and on the 6th of No- vember was sentenced to be hanged, and was executed in the yard of the old Capitol prison at Washington on the following 10th, amid the execrations of many of the vic- tims of his former cruelty, who had gathered upon the house-tops to witness the execution. His body was buried in the penitentiary yard by the side of the conspirators convicted of the murder of Lincoln. The apologists for the rebel treatment of Union prison- ers have attempted to show that the trial and execution of Wirz was an act of military despotism, and wholly 396 Prisoners of War. unwarranted by the laws of war; that whatever might be the barbarities exercised at Andersonville, they were brought about by the necessities of war, and are charge- able to the inability of the Confederate States to prevent them ; that Captain Wirz was a subordinate officer placed in charge of a trust, and acting in every particular under military orders, for which he was in no manner responsi- ble. Let us briefly consider how far he was responsible for the treatment of the prisoners in his hands. He was responsible for the " overcrowded state of the prison," because he had the power to enlarge the limits at any time ; be was responsible for the " want of shelter," because he had the control, by his own confession, of the prison interior, and he could have allowed the prisoners the privilege of providing themselves with the necessary materials for protection against the climate; he was re- sponsible for the terrible punishments of the stocks and chain-gang, for Lieutenant Davis, who was in command during the illness of Captain "Wirz, expressly prohibited those punishments ; thus proving that there were no or- ders from Richmond, or from any " superior othcer," for inflicting them. It is well known that orders given by a superior of- ficer to his subordinate are general in their nature; and especially are they such, when they are given to one hav- ing command of an important post, like that at Ander- sonville, while great discretionary powers are allowed to carry out a general plan. There is no doubt that there was a general plan on the part of the Confederate government to murder the Fed- eral prisoners, and that Captain Wirz was selected as a fit and willing instrument, in furtherance of it ; but the de- tails of the torture were all his own. No order was ever given him to load men with balls and chains, and keep them wearing them for four or five weeks , no order was gi%'en him to place a sick man in the chain-gang and re- tain him there till he died; no order was given him to shoot defenseless sick men, or to murder those whom his Prisoners of War. 397 brutality had rendered insane and irresponsible; but he did all these things. There seems to be a feeling, among a certain class of philanthropists, that the United States government had no right to punish this man for his crimes ; and a great cry of horror went out against his trial. Men said he wafs acting under orders ; but they forget that, even if that w^ere true, the fact does not protect him. No man has a right to do any thing unlawful, even though he is ordered by his superior to do so. Men argue in favor of Wirz as if he were a subordinate of a foreign power, and irre- sponsible to any government except his own ; but, even in that view, would it be consonant with the dignity and self respect of the United States, to make peace with a foreign power whose subordinates had treated its prisoners of war with such barbarity, without making a demand that the criminals be surrendered for punishment, or that suitable punishment be inflicted upon them by the home au- thorities V And is it to be supposed that peace would ever be made between the contending parties until such de- mand was fully complied with? If such a course is just and right between two sovereign states, it was certainly just and right to adopt it between the government and its rebellious subjects. It is a false philanthropy to consider rebels as anything but rebels: no government ever succeeded in asserting its power in any other way. It may have been policy to pardon them ; if so, they should be treated as pardoned men, whose immunity from punishment for the future de- pends upon their own conduct. But there are crimes which do not deserve pardon, and if the deliberate starva- tion of thousands of helpless men is not one of these, then should all punitive laws be abolished, and society re- solved into its original elements, owning no law but that which endows every individual with the right to use any means necessary for self-preservation. The whole nation, the civilized world, right, justice, and humanity, demand the punishment of the perpetrators of these astounding crimes ; that men may know that even 398 Prisoners of War. war, with all its necessary horrors, does not permit them to indulge their gust for blood unrestrained ; that it is not a cloak with which they can cover fiendish atrocities, and that its sanction will not protect them in the practice of private vengeance, or in the gratification of their lust for the sight of misery. Whoever the criminals may have been, whether Captain Wirz, the instrument, or Davis and his cabinet, the originators, each and all should have been made to undergo an extreme penalty for their great guilt. From the homes made desolate by their hands ; from the deserted firesides, whose ashes have long been cold ; from mothers, wives, and kindred, whose loved ones come no more to greet them ; from every hamlet and crowded town throughout the land ; from the bloody graves of thir- teen thousand victims, cut down in the pride of manhood, and wasted by famine and torture, such as civilized war- fare never permitted before, there comes a cry for retribu- tion ; and the voices of those murdered men, pleading for justice, will haunt these homicides, carrying their appeal from an earthly tribunal to that higher court where a merciful, but an avenging judge shall set the seal of right at last. A General Account PRISON LIFE AND PRISONS IN THE SOUTH DURINt; THE WAR OF THE REBELLION INCLUDING STATISTICAL INFORMATION PERTAINING TO PRISONERS OF WAR HENRY B. FURNESS LATE SHRGKANT CO. "b," TW KNT\'-F'0URTH \VT>C0NSIN INI^ANTKV, SHU;{II)An': UIVISION, AHMV or THE CUMliEKI.AND 'rfl Prisoners of War. 401 PRISON LIFE AND PRISONS IN THE SOUTH. HE preceding narratives, prepared as the personal experiences of the authors, contain statements so much at variance with the pre- vailing treatment of prisoners of war, as to : challenge credibility. The startling disclos- ures which they make, seem rather the morbid imaginings of men who have become insane under the rule of a vin- dictive passion, than the recital of actual occurrences. The barbarities which characterized the wars of ancient times are regarded as the outcome of unbridled passion wielded by unbridled power. The modern reader shudders at the inhuman practices of the Roman conquerors, and blesses the benign spirit which has banished the savage war-cry of vae vietis. The progress of the race in science and gen- eral knowledge has mitigated the unavoidable horrors of war, and introduced a spirit of kindness and mercy into the terrible necessities of battle. The sword that flashes before the armed foeman is sheathed when resistance ceases. A compassionate hand is outstretched to the sick, the wounded, and the helpless ; no eftbrt is spared to soften the rigors of captivity, or alleviate the inevitable suffer- ing incident to the barbarities of war. While contending armies in active conflict are required to kill with pitiless fury, they are also enjoined by the christianized spirit of the age, to furnish to the captive such necessities of food, clothing, shelter, and protection, as are compatible with his safe-keeping, and security to themselves. Therefore it is, that when we turn to accounts of the 26 402 Frisoners of War. experiences of Federal prisoners in the hands of their ene- mies, we look to find the practice of those modern princi- ples which govern the intercourse of nations, and turn away incredulous from statements which arraign them. Herein we find ourselves unable to give credence to tales of horror, of starvation, of murder, exposure, criminal neglect of the sick and wounded, and of robbery, inflicted by a people who arrogated to themselves the title of chiv- alrous humanity, upon enemies whom the fortune of war had placed in their hands. It seems proper, therefore, as well as just to the narra- tors of the foregoing accounts, to supplement their state- ments by evidence, if there be any, which shall corrobo- rate them and prove the pictures not overdrawn. Un- fortunately for the humanity of the Confederate authori- ties, the materials are abundant and accessible. They con- sist of the sworn statements of the prisoners themselves, the captured rebel archives, the reports of the Confederate surgeons to the higher ofBcers of the Confederate govern- ment, and the reports and comments of those officers in- dorsed upon such reports. Eeside these, a fruitful source of information has been found in the report on the treat- ment of prisoners of war by the rebel authorities made to the House of Representatives of the Fortieth Congress, and known as Shank's Report. It is well, at this distance from a war which is unprece- dented in the annals of modern conflicts for the bitterness of the strife, not only among the leaders themselves, but shared as well by the private citizen and the private sol- dier, to pause before lifting the veil. Peace has spread its kindly wings over the combatants, and strife among her brooded children should be hushed. And yet not hushed. The truth of history demands that the claims of a ficti- tious system of civilization should be exposed to the exe- cration of mankind, and held up as a warning to those who seek to found a nation upon any other than the broadest principles of humanity, which embrace alike the noblest and the humblest. Wherever in the world's prog- Prisoners of War. 403 ress the ways become dangerous, the beacon light should be hung out to warn the unwary or ignorant traveler. It is, moreover, justice to the survivors of these inde- scribable sufferings that their contemporaries, as well as future generations, should know the price which has been paid to perpetuate the Federal Union. The deeds of dar- ing upon the field, amid the excitement and frenzy of the fight, are preserved in imperishable song, in marble and bronze. It is fitting also that the quiet courage, the manly endurance, the unflinching fidelity, of the unfortunate captives should, so far as honest effort, however humble may effect, be instilled into the minds of the young — a lesson of fortitude and of heroic devotion to principle which sacrificed health and life in the defense of country and human freedom. Long before the opening of hostilities in the late-rebell- ion, there had been cultivated a feeling of hatred toward the people of the ISTorth by public speakers, b}' the public press, and by the pulpit of the South. To be a Yankee "was to be an outcast. The inhabitants of the free states were considered by the ignorant white population of the South to be on a level with the slaves of their own wealthy ■classes. Their frugal habits, industry, general information and intelligence were regarded as impertinent by the edu- cated, and as insults by the ignorant. To live in luxurious ease was the abiding ambition on the one hand, regardless of the means by which that ease was obtained ; to be act- ive, energetic, industrious, was the grand incentive on the other. The traffic in human flesh as a source of wealth, however horrible to the contemplation of the humane phi- losopher, was even to the highest intellects of the South no more obnoxious than the traffic in brutes. They were famil- iar with all the cruelties of the slave system, and, reared from childhood in the midst of its atrocities, their better in- stincts became seared, and they looked upon the suffering anguish of the laborer — because he was a laborer — with the calmness of the savage upon the torments of his writh- ing victim. Gray-haired philosophers and gentle women 404 Prisoners of War. alike recognized the necessities incident to the system^ and shut their eyes and closed their hearts to its miseries. To them the Federal army was an organized band of laborers — barbarous, inhuman and ignorant. They be- lieved them to be cowards as well, and disposed, as all cowards are, to excesses in war. They denominated them " plundering hordes," " vandals," " hirelings." They ac- corded to them none of the urbanities or humanities of civilized men. They accused them of enlisting in the army in order to secure support in idleness, to win their bread by exposing themselves as little as possible to the dangers of war — at the same time, by rapine and petty thievery, to enrich themselves at the expense of their wealthy enemies. From the very beginning of the struggle, we find them disposed to wreak their private vengeance upon their in- vaders. In support of these statements is the letter of one James Phelan, a resident of Aberdeen, Miss., to President Davis, in which he gravely asserts : " Treated as our pris- oners now are, captivity has neither sacrifice nor suffer- ing to a large proportion of them. They are as well or bet- ter fed and cared for than if they were in their own ranks, or even in their own homes. I am prepared to believe that the greater portion of the army of our enemy are men who fare better as soldiers than as citizens, and who enter the ranks for that reason. If so, the increasing dis- tress and starvation of the lower classes of the Northern population will continue to swell their ranks, unless some counter policy on our part can evade its influence. Un- der our present policy, such men have every thing to gain and nothing to lose. If they enlist against us, and de- feat us, it is well. If taken captive \>j us, well also. In either event, they escape privation and want, and obtain comfort and abundance, either in our parlors or our pris- ons." He then outlines a policy of treatment, recom- mending that all prisoners taken by the Confederate armies should be collected at some point accessible to the United States, their government notified of their condition, and asked to feed and clothe them. If it refused, then to Prisoners of War. 405 let them starve. This treatment, in his opinion, would tend to discourage recruiting.* This letter bears date, August 28, 1861. "" Another citizen, W. A. Wilson, under date of Port Sul- livan, September 2, 1861, recpmmended that prisoners of war be set to work upon the construction of a much- needed railway for military, mail, and other purposes, con- necti'ng his state with Louisiana. He closes his recom- mendation by the energetic remark : " They might as well work, as they have to be fed." f A Mr. Tazewell W. Price, of Cotton Plant, Arkansas, recommended in a letter to Hon. L. P. Walker, Secretary of War, that the prisoners be handcufied, sent to Fort Sumter, and there placed on bread and water ; and that Generals Pillow, Hardee, and McCulloch be instructed to "break the left leg of all of them, and turn them loose. J Finally, Mr. D. G. McRea recommends to President Davis to treat all foreigners serving in the Federal armies as interlopers, and not as legitimate prisoners of war. His letter bears date, ITovember 16, 1861. || These letters, quixotic as their recommendations may be, coming from widely separated parts of the Confederacy, show a remarkable ignorance of the character of the men who composed the rank and file of the patriot army. It is not to be supposed that the authorities at Richmond seriously considered these recommendations, but subse- quent events most clearly showed that, had they been acted upon, a certain class of rebel sentiment throughout the country would have uttered no protest. The early history of the conflict reveals no settled pol- icy on the part of the insurgents with respect to prisoners of war. There were many instances of mistreatment, it is true, resulting from the lack of preparation to receive and care for military captives and ignorance of duty toward them. The war had been precipitated by their own action, yet their preparations were in no state of for- » House Reports, pp. 382, 383. t Id., p. 383. t Id., 383. II Id., p. 383. 406 Prisoners of War. wardness, either for victory or defeat. A large portion of the intelligent South believed, or affected to believe, that there would be no war, because the North would not fight. In the opening scenes, the insurgent forces were in the main victorious. Their passions had not been roused by defeat; they believed the eye of Europe to be upon them, and the first year of the struggle was spent in masquerading before the face of foreign powers, in the hope of recognition. Their military successes softened the asperity of the contest, and it became them to behave well beneath the watchful eye of England and France. As the war progressed, the North perfected the disci- pline of her armies, and at length the tide of victory set toward the side of the enemies of southern independence ; the possibility of final defeat began to present itself to- the rebel mind. They found themselves hemmed in upon the side of the sea, and upon the frontiers of the seceding states. On the land side the lines were drawing closer. King Cotton, whose subjects they claimed to be, and to whose rescue they had believed all England would hasten,, had calmly transferred his seat of empire to the east. The spinners and weavers of Manchester and Birmingham, so confidently relied upon as allies, did not force their queen into a war to procure the coveted staple. All hope had fled of securing assistance from abroad. Among the earliest instances of an apparently settled policy to render their prisoners of war unfit for service in the field, but still to retain them as subjects for exchange, is the treatment of a detachment taken at Chickasaw Bayou, during the operations about Vicksburg, late in the year 1862. They were taken to the latter city — the ofiicers quartered in the jail, the privates, without shel- ter, in the jail yard. Fourteen ofiicers were confined in a room ten feet wide by twelve in length. Here they re- mained for two months. The rations were of unsifted corn-meal and boiled beef, entirely inadequate in quantity and in quality to support a healthy existence. The weather was cold. From this place they were taken to the remains of a bridge across the Pearl, near Jackson, Prisoners of War. 407 Mississippi, it having been closed in for the pnrpose. Offi- cers and private soldiers, to the number of more than two hundred, were here immured without either light or fuel. The flooring of the bridge was loosely laid, and through the open seams the rushing water could be seen. These cracks aftbrded them the only light they had. No straw or other bedding was furnished for some time. At last, a single bale of the strippings from corn-stalks was given them, and these in quantity too limited to supply Pearl Rivbk Bkidge. the needs of the incarcerated men. Some of them died under the treatment, and their surviving comrades were compelled to stumble over their bodies in the darkness of their prison. In this prison the food was mush, made of corn-meal.* From this time forward, if, indeed, the policy was not initiated some months earlier, it seems to have become the settled plan of the rebel leaders, not openly an- nounced, but none the less vigorousl}'^ pushed, to deplete the armies of the North by capturing its soldiers, and rendering them unfit for further military service. This •Testimony of Gov. Thos. C. Fletcher, H. R., 4064. 408 Prisoners of War. was to be accomplished by natural agencies. These were — exposure to the vicissitudes of the weather, short and im- pure rations, deprivation of medical attendance, crowding into the closest possible quarters, lack of means for secur- ing cleanliness, and insufficient clothing. A charge so serious as this is not to be made without convincing proof of its verity. It becomes necessary, therefore, to examine carefully the testimony which has come to light through the statements of the sufferers themselves, through the captured papers, documents, and reports of the rebel war department, and the reports of surgeons and citizens cognizant of the condition of the prisoners during their confinement, and after their ex- change. This testimony will be presented under the following divisions: 1. Treatment at time of capture, and during transportation. 2. Treatment on arrival at prison sta- tion. 3. Location and description of prisons. 4. Food, water, and fuel in prison quarters. 5. Knowledge of the condition of the prisoners, possessed or obtainable, by the controlling authorities. 6. Power to relieve the suffer- ings. 7. Agents employed to guard and provide for the prisoners. 8. The results of the policy. I. TREATMENT AT TIME OF CAPTURE. From the latter part of the year 1862, but more partic- ularly after the repeated violations of the cartel of July 22d of that year, by the rebel agent, the Hon. Robert Ould, in declaring paroled Confederate prisoners to be ex- changed, especially those of the array of General Pember- ton, which was captured and paroled at Vicksburg, July 4, 1863, exchanges between the two belligerents practically ceased. Prisoners consequently accumulated in the hands of both parties. The strict blockade of the coast, and the careless habits of the Confederate soldier, frequenth^ re- Prisoners of War. 409 duced him to straits in the matter of clothing, blankets, and money ; and the example set by the officers having charge of prisons,* speedily induced the common soldier to avail himself of every opportunity to despoil the un- lucky foeman who, by the fortune of battle, fell into his power. In this manner, he appropriated blankets, over- coats, haversacks, and caps — all of them private property, and essential to the comfort and health of the prisoner, if not to his life.f Grow- ing bolder, as he found him- self unpunished, he finally made a systematic search ,y -^"^l^ of his captive, and piun- ^ 3 *?l dered his hat, shoes or 'v ^'^l hoots, handkerchiefs, fin- ger-rings, and money, not even sparing pocket photo- graphs of his family friends. J Thus destitute, the luckless prisoner was forced to march, barefoot, hatless, unprotected from the weather, whether in summer or winter, for many miles, to some distant station. Ilis guard was usually cavalr}', and when the march was long, the guard was relieved by fresh men. The speed of the prisoner, however, was not slackened, and he was compelled to keep pace with his escort at the point of the saber or the muzzle of the carbine.|| Those who fell out by the way from weakness, being incapable of surviving the hardships in store for them, were some- times tied to the saddle and assisted to keep up ; § and cases were not unknown, where the disabled captive was left behind the line of march with a guard, who afterward rejoined the escort, without him.Tl" Instances are on rec- ord of disabled men killed by a thrust of the bayonet, rolled out of the path, and left.** * See the evidence of robbing prisoners at Richmond, by Turner and others. H. R., passim. t See Testimony, H. E., passim. J Id. II Burch Statement, H. R., 1051. i Id. 'i Holmes Account, H. R., 1111. « Reed, H. R., 1080. 410 Prisoners of War. During these rapid and exhausting marches, the prison- ers were often kept without food for two to four days, de- prived of water, and compelled to sleep without the usual cover of the soldier, upon the bare ground, in open fields, without fires.* Sometimes the ration was issued raw, and fire was allowed with which to cook it ; but, having been deprived of cooking utensils, he was compelled to bake his bread ration upon a board or a chip, or in the ashes of his fire. Unless his place of capture was near the prison in which he was to be incarcerated, his march usually ended at some railway station, where he was placed upon a train for more rapid transportation. For this purpose, he was crowded, into box-cars, with sixty to seventy comrades, and shut in. In this closely-pent van, he was forced to remain from twenty-four to thirty-six hours, without food or water, or the means to relieve natural necessities. Packed so closely,, he had no opportunity of sitting, without danger of being trodden upon by his comrades — most of whom were com- pelled to stand — in the sudden lurching of the moving train. t Jfot infrequently, the cars had been used upon the up-trip for transporting cattle. It was not deemed necessary to cleanse them for the reception of Yankee prisoners. The end of the journey reached, the luckless captive, besmirched with filth, was presented at the prison gate, in some sort prepared to anticipate the fate in store- for him. II. TREATMENT ON ARRIVING AT PRISON. So universal was the custom of searching the prisoners for valuables at the prison doors that a general reference to the statements given in Shank's report will be suf- ficient for the account under this head. No special refer- ences will therefore be given. * H. R. Testimony, poisim. t Various Accounts, H. R. Prisoners of War. 411 According to the rules of war, it is lawful to deprive a military prisoner of any means of making his escape, as well as of such instrumentalities as will enable him to- put his guard to unusual vigilance in retaining him in captivity. At the same time, it is conceded to be the right and the duty of a prisoner of war to secure his re- turn to liberty if he can ; and for that purpose to resort to chicanery or force if necessary. No objection can, therefore, be urged against the practice of demanding of captives the surrender of any moneys, watches, or other valuables, by the use of which he could be able to cor- rupt his guard and obtain his liberty. This practice had the sanction of both governments during the late war,, and has been in vogue among other nations as well. The United States officers, on depriving their captives of their money at the prisons in which they were immured, made a careful list of the funds and valuables taken, issuing a receipt for the same. This receipt was worth its face value with the authorized sutler of the prison, and might be drawn against for such articles not contraband of war as the prisoner desired. The balance, if there were one in his favor, was returned to the prisoner on his release. On the other hand, the Confederate authorities confiscated, the private property of the Federal prisoner, giving no receipt for it, and in no instance upon record returning him any portion of it. He was robbed as completely as if he had passed through the hands of a highwayman. Despite the vigilance of his captor, who, in his haste,, was debarred the opportunity of an exhaustive search^ the shrewd Yankee prisoner was sometimes able to secrete- bis money so as to conceal it from the eye of the rebel soldier upon the field. But longer experience and ampler leisure combined to make the Ij'nx-eyed jailer more ex- pert in prosecuting the search. The stale promise of re- turn upon release was always profiered at the Richmond prisons, on condition that the prisoner voluntarily sur- rendered his funds. But this promise usually availed little, and the victim was compelled to denude himself, when his clothing was thoroughly and carefully examined,. 412 Prisoners of War. the linings being ripped off and the seams scrutinized. Even their persons were explored in the avaricious search. This ceremony being completed, he was suffered to re- sume his tattered apparel. Despite the rigid examination to which he was thus subjected, he sometimes succeeded in secreting some portion of his money, which afterward stood him in good stead. It will be remembered that while still in the field his captor deprived the prisoner of his outer clothing. No instance is recorded of a further confiscation of clothing a,fter his arrival at prison quarters. An attempt to do so would have been useless. ISTothing remained to him but rags, and, besides, worn clothing could be of no service to his keepers, who, it appears, were the only ones who profited by the spoliation. But it is well authenticated that, in many instances, pocket-knives, combs, even to- bacco, were taken from them, more in the spirit of petty thievery than for any service such things might be to the commander of the prison quarters. Thus, from the beginning of his captivity, the Federal prisoner of war was made to feel that he had to expect no mere}' from his captors. Even his search was accom- panied by the most ribald treatment and not infrequently by brutal violence. The testimony shows many instances of sick and disabled prisoners who were unable to obey the order to disrobe, being cut with sabers and threatened with death ; and their comrades in misery, to save them from beating with clubs and kicking and pounding by the guards, helped them to remove their apparel, to be searched. While this was the general treatment of the men at Richmond, similar and even more barbarous usage awaited them at other points to which they were removed. At Danville, at Andersonville, Salisbury, Florence, indeed, at every prison to which they were assigned, they were com- pelled to submit to these gross indignities. There was one exception. The men who capitulated at Plymouth, JSTorth Carolina, stipulated for the retention of their private property, and, phenomenal as it may appear to those ac- Prisoners of War. 413 quainted with the mala fides of the rebels, they were un- disturbed in their possession. Even the officers at Ander- sonville respected the terms of surrender. It mattered little. They soon voluntarily disposed of their clothing in return for food to stay the ceaseless gnawing of hunger. III. LOCATION AND DESCRIPTION OF PRISONS. The prisons used for the confinement of captives by the rebel government, were located in various parts of the Confederacy, and numbered sixty-eight, counting all of those at Richmond, Va., as one. Many of these were of minor importance, containing but few prisoners, and these for but a short time, and are regarded as transient prisons in the reports of the United States War Depart- ment. The most prominent were located at Richmond and Danville, Virginia; Salisbury, North Carolina; Charles- ton, Columbia, and Florence, South Carohna; Anderson- ville, Macon, Milieu, and Savannah, Georgia; Cahawba, and Tuscaloosa, Alabama, and Camp Ford, Texas. Those in the vicinity of Richmond were, Belle Isle, the Smith, Pemberton, Libby, Laundry, and Castle Thunder. At Danville were six, known and designated by numbers ; at the other localities the several prisons were within the same inclosure, and under the direct personal su^Dervision of the same officer. In Shank's report, above referred to, the places for con- finement are arranged in two classes : First, buildings used as temporary places of imprisonment. Second, stock- ades and inclosures in the nature of camps. In the tem- porary prisons the men were sometimes confined for a few days only ; sometimes for several weeks ; and, as in the case of Danville, for several months. The buildings were generally abandoned tobacco warehouses, constructed of wood or brick, and three or four stories in height. Those 414 Prisoners of War. at Richmond were built upon the street, and afforded the prisoners no opportunity for exercise or a change of air. During the year 1861, the Richmond prisons were under the command of Brigadier (afterward Major) General John H. Winder. Major T. P. Turner was the commander dur- ing 1862-3-4. Belle Isle was latterly under command of Lientenant V. Boissieux. Captain and Acting Adjutant- General Henry Wirz was connected with the Richmond prisons in a subordinate capacity during a part of the years 1862-3. General J. H. Winder. The prison buildings at Richmond were large, roomy, and airy, and had it not been for their overcrowded condition would have been as comfortable, in respect to shelter and protection from the weather, as military prisoners could re- quire. The Pemberton was three stories high, and ninety by one hundred feet in area. It had been a tobacco ware- house, and was fitted with no conveniences for the accom- modation of the prisoners. No beds or bunks of any kind were furnished, nor were there any opportunities for sit- ting, except by squatting upon the haunches, and this at the imminent risk of being overset and trampled upon in the overcrowded room. Prisoners of War. 415 The ventilation of the rooms was by means of windows from which the glass had been removed, perhaps, by the prisoners themselves. In the lower rooms the windows were barred with iron, or planked. These were eftective means to secure abundant introduction of pure air, but they served as well for the access of the biting frosts of the winter. In the Smith prison, adjacent to Pemberton, like condi- tions prevailed. The account of this place, given in Davidson's narrative, is fully in accord with the facts as developed by the testimony' of the various persons confined there. Libby prison was located on the south-east corner of Carey and Eighteenth streets, in that part of Richmond known as the " Rocketts." In its rear was the James River canal, near the river. It was one hundred and thirty feet in length, and one hundred and five feet in width, and was three stories in height in front, and four in the rear. It was substantially built of brick, and previous to the war had been used as a tobacco warehouse, and a depot for goods in the ship chandlery line. The building was divided laterally, by brick partitions, into three distinct apartments, which, upon the second and third floors, were one hundred feet in length and forty-five feet in width. In the third story there were ten windows to each apart- ment, five in front and five in the rear; upon the second story there were, in front, four windows, and a door used by the proprietors for hoisting goods. A portion of the lower floor was cut up into small rooms for various pur- poses. The lower west room was further subdivided into oflices ; the middle room was furnished with cook-stoves, and used for a kitchen. In one corner of the kitchen a room had been constructed which was used as a dungeon for prisoners who had been guilty of infraction of the prison rules. In this cell the captives taken from Kil- patrick's " raiders " were confined. The lower east room was the prison hosf)ital. In the basement were the dun- geons in which the recaptured men were confined. These dungeons, or cells, were entirely unfurnished, without 416 Prisoners of War. fires, with iron gratings for windows, and infested with rats, which the prisoners confined there sometimes caught and procured to be cooked by their negro attendant. They were pervaded by a loathsome and damp atmos- phere ; being rarely cleansed, their floors were covered with filth, and every crevice of the walls and floor was swarming with vermin. Prisoners confined in these dun- geons were heavily ironed. In one of these noisome cells the gallant Colonel A. D. Streight was confined for twenty-one days. The apartments allotted to the prisoners were reached by open stairways, that leading from first to the second floor being temporary, and taken away at night. The rooms were entirely unfurnished with conveniences for sitting, sleeping, or eating. Water was supplied from the city water-works, and was both abundant and wholesome. No wash-basin was provided, and a tank or box was placed under the faucet to catch the drippings when the water was drawn. The sinks were extremely limited in number, and were in the open room. In these apartments .as many as eleven hundred men were confined at one time. Toward the close of the war, the Libby Prison was used as a receiving station for ofiicers on their way to places of permanent confinement in the far south, the be- leagured city being deemed insecure. Belle Isle.* This prison was situated upon an island in the James river, just above the long bridge that connects the north and south banks of the stream. The island contained an area variously estimated, the highest being one hundred acres. The upper portion was a high and rolling blufi", covered with trees and sward, while the lower part was little elevated above the waters of the river, and in high water was flooded to the depth of some inches.f This * See p. 401. t H. R 961. Prisoners of War. 417 part of the island was sandy and barren, without a tree for shelter against the heat of the summer sun, or to break the force of the bleak winds of winter that sweep down the river from the mountains to the north-westward. No verdant spot here greets the eye, or softens the strong glare of the fervid sunlight ; on evei-y hand is the glisten- ing, barren sand. Around this low and desolate portion of the island were thrown up earth-works some three feet in height, with a ditch on either side, inclosiiig an area of some ten acres. Leading from the camp to the river was a lane, made by rows of boards some twelve feet high. A heavy gate closed this lane at night, and shut oiF all access to the river. The ditch upon the inside marked the dead line, to overpass or touch which was death at the hands of the guard. Some of the prisoners aver that they were not al- lowed to go within three feet of the dead line, and that, as the guards were the only judges of that distance, men were sometimes shot who were actually within the limits assigned them. The provisions made for the comfort of the prisoners were extremely limited. Although a prison camp almost from the beginning of the war, chosen on account of its isolated situation and the ease with which it could be guarded by a small detachment of men, no permanent ar- rangement was ever made for the shelter of the prisoners, or for their needful accommodation. No barracks were erected, but in their place tents of various patterns and sizes were at first provided. As the numbers of the pris- oners increased, even these were not furnished; and, dur- ing the winter of 1863-4, some four thousand men were compelled to lie shelterless upon the frozen sand.* The inevitable crowding of the tents that would follow from this inadequacy of accommodation, requires no mention. The tents were provided with no straw. The blankets and overcoats of the prisoners had, to a very large extent, * H. R., 804. 27 418 Prisoners of War. been taken from them before they were placed in the camp. The floor, upon which they were compelled to lie, was the sandj' soil of the island. Those who were outside the tents were in much worse condition. They passed the winter of 1863-4 in this manner. The river was covered with a thin crust of ice, and the camp with snow during a part of that time. Need it be said, that many of these half-naked wretches froze to death, or that large numbers lost fingers, ears, and feet from the frost ? Although the James river suri-ounded the camp at Belle Isle upon three sides, the facilities for obtaining water were meager. The passage to the stream was through the lane above mentioned. The water front at the end of this lane was about twenty feet. Here were located the sinks used by the prisoners during the day, all access be- ing cut ofl" by the closing of the gate at night. The close proximity of the sinks to the place reserved for getting the water, made the latter oftentimes impure and unfit for use. The enterprise of the men soon overcame this ditficulty, by sinking wells within the inelosure. These furnished a pure water at a depth of three feet. Steps were cut in the sides of the well, by which they descended to dip up the water in their cups, half canteens, and boot- legs. These wells, however, were not serviceable for a long time. The sick men, being confined within the lim- its of the camp during the entire night, soon impregnated the sand with oftal, which, as matter of course, vitiated the water with seepage. Bathing was allowed, under guard, in the water of the river. A limited number was permitted to go at a time to wash their persons and their remnants of clothing; but, there being no organization among them, the stronger often hurried in front of their sick and feebler comrades, and these were thus deprived of the privilege. Upon this island, teu to twelve thousand men were confined at one time. Prisoners of War. 419 Danville, Virginia. Of the prisons at this place, but little need be said here. The account furnished in the "preceding narrative is accu- rate, and is fully sustained by the statements of the pris- oners who were confined there. The city of Danville is situated on the south bank of the river Dan, from which it derives its name, and, before the war, was a thriving town, deriving its importance from its extensive manufact- ure of tobacco. The prisons were abandoned tobacco warehouses, usually three stories in height, and known by numbers. No. 3 was used for the confinement of officers ; the remaining numbers for enlisted men, both white and colored. The arrangements for the comfort and conveniences of the prisons at Danville were similar to those in Eichmond and Belle Isle. As usual in other buildings, the prisoners were confined upon the second and third floors, and the windows constituted the " dead lines." Upon what theory the prisoners were not permitted to approach these win- dows to look abroad over the city or the surrounding country, has not been explained. It may be that the au- thorities feared the venality of the guards — a useless fear after so many precautions had been taken to deprive the captives of all means of bribing them ; perhaps because it was apprehended that their famished and forlorn ap- pearance might awaken sympathy for their miserable con- dition — another useless apprehension, for the almost uni- versal testimony relating to this period of the war shows not only no commiseration of their state by the inhabit- ants around them, but, on the other hand, an almost fiendish pleasure at sight of the distressing spectacle. Whatever may have been the reason, it was the general order in all the prisons to shoot any and all who ap- proached near the dead line, whether it were a window forty feet from the ground or a ditch drawn around the camp, or even an imaginary line defined by the untrained eye of the sentinel who stood guard. 420 Prisoners of War. The water supply was obtained from the Dan river, and was brought in by a detail of the prisoners. From the various accounts it appears that even this supply was very small in quantity. In one of the statements it is said that the allowance was about a pint a day to a man.* In the yard of one of these prisons there had been a well from which the inmates of that building at first obtained suffi- cient water; but, for an unknown reason, the guards cut ofl" this source by sawing the pump in two and securely covering the well. ISTo water was given for washing, nor were the prisoners permitted to repair to the river for that purpose. The Danville prisons were under the command of vari- ous officei's at different times. One Major Mason Morfit had command during the winter of 1863-4. He was suc- ceeded by Colonel E. C. Smith. Previous to Major Mor- fit's appointment the station was under the command of Captain Henry McCoy. The general command was vested in General John H. Winder. None of the prisoners, except such as were detailed to carry water or rations, were permitted to go out of the building for exercise. Small means were provided for warming the prisons, and during the unprecedented cold of the winter of 1863-4 the captives were entirely without fire or fuel. Their rations were issued cooked. There is no report of the aggregate number of prisoners confined in Danville. Salisbury. The town of Salisbury is located at the junction of the two branches of the JSTorth Carolina Railroad, in Rowan county, North Carolina. The prison was a four-story brick factory, forty by one hundred feet, together with five smaller buildings used as boarding houses for the factory. A board fence surrounding these buildings in- closed an area of some eleven acres. The soil is a stiff, » TL K.. 845. Prisoners of War. 421 tenacious red clay, and without artificial drainage it holds water for a long time; after rain or snow it becomes a vast slough of mud. The customary dead line was located about ten feet from the fence. AVater was obtained from nine wells within the inclosure, and from the creek, half a mile distant, to which the prisoners were allowed to go, a certain number at a time, under guard, with buckets and barrels. The supply ob- tained from all these sources, however, was not more than sufficient for cooking and drinking purposes. The lack of a running stream for washing and bathing was the prolific source of untold misery to the unfortunate occu- pants. The camp lacked drainage ; the sinks were a source of pestilential and malarial iufiuences. Three hundred tents and flies, of mixed sizes and pat- terns, were issued for the use of the prisoners in October by Major Mason Morfit, formerly at Danville, now prison quartermaster at Salisbury. They constituted the oxAj shel- ter for the prisoners, who numbered eight thousand seven hundred and forty on the 7th of November, 1864, near ten thousand in December of that year, and diminishing to five thousand and seventy on the 18th of Februaiy, 1865. An extension barracks was begun by Major Morfit, capable of sheltering the entire number, but it was abandoned by order of General Winder. The prisoners themselves fur- nished their own shelter. Some by digging beneath the buildings, and excavating a sufficient space for the joint occupanc}' of a squad; others burrowing holes in the ground. These were constructed by excavating an en- trance about two feet square, to the depth of five feet, and then tunneling at right angles, thus forming a room about the size and shape of a brick oven. At one end a a tire-place was constructed. There they slept at night, and remained the greater part of the day.* Others dug trenches, and covered them with pieces of shelter tents or boughs, spreading clay over the top. In these pits thej' were protected against excessive cold, but the rains some- * H. R., 794. 422 Prisoners of War. times flooded them out. Manj- had no shelter, they pos- sessing neither the implements nor the energy, in their weakened condition, to provide themselves. Such were compelled to lie in groups upon the ground at night, and to huddle together during the day. The weather was cold, the ground frozen, and snow fell at times to the depth of several inches, and remained upon the ground for two or three days. Some of the men were frozen to death ; some lost their feet, others their ears or fingers. They were all clothed in light summer apparel, well worn and ■- l^^ Hospital Interior, Salisbury, N". C. thin ; their blankets, hats, and shoes, in many instances, had been taken from them at the front at time of capture or upon their admission to the camp. No new clothing was issued to them, and they instituted, from sheer neces- sity, the habit of robbing the dead of such of their rags as could be conveniently taken, and appeared serviceable, and, by patching them together, were able partially to cover themselves. In the report of Inspector T. "W. Hall, A. A. and Q. G., dated February 17, 1865, it is stated that at about that date three thousand blankets and one thousand pairs of Prisoners of War. 423 pauts had been received from the United States govern- ment, and were then being distributed nnder the super- vision of Federal officers sent from Danville for that pur- pose. By an order of Brigadier-General Bradley T. John- eon, post commandant, which was rigidly enforced, the supplies were all distributed to those for whom they were designed. And by the same order speculation upon the necessities of the prisoners was strictly prohibited. There were no police regulations for the government of the camp, or for regulating the discipline of the prisoners among themselves. The strong overpowered the weak, and in the misery into which all were plunged many deeds of robbery were committed by men whose malignant passions were excited by the desperate circumstances surrounding them. In the report above referred to. Major Gee, the prison commander, is censured for not providing the pris- oners with " wooden scrapers and hickory brooms, with wheel-barrows or boxes with rope handles," to remove the accumulated filth of the camp. Florence. This prison, which was in command of Lieutenant- Colonel J. F. Iverson, was located at Florence, Darling- ton county. South Carolina, at the junction of the Checraw and Darlington with the Wilmington, Columbia and Ausrusta Railroad, about one hundred miles due north of Charleston. The prison was a stockade constructed of logs set upright in the ground, from three to four feet deep, surrounded by a ditch about five feet deep and seven wide, the dirt from the excavation being thrown up against the stockade, making a walk for the sentinels about three feet from the top of the palisades. The stockade was fourteen hundred feet long, and seven hun- dred and twenty-five feet wide, comprising 23.3 acres; from this total acreage are to be deducted six, which were swamp and could not be used for camping the prisoners, leaving 17.3 acres available. It was situated about two 424 Prisoners of War. miles from the town. A large stream ran through the stockade, the upper part being used for bathing, washing, and drinking, while upon the lower part the sinks were located. The dead line was a furrow. The prisoners here had no shelter, except such as they could provide for themselves. They resorted to the ex- pedient of digging trenches in the ground, and covering them with boughs overlaid with mud. Some, who Avere better provided, made a frame-work of poles, over wliich they spread branches of trees, which they covered in with soil. Others lay exposed upon the bare ground. November 25, 1864, the prison contained eleven thou- sand, four hundred and twenty-four prisoners. Lieuten- ants Barrett and Hays assisted the post commandant in the discharge of his duties as inspectors of the prison in- terior. The prisoners were divided into detachments of one thousand and companies of one hundred. They were counted once every day at 6 o'clock a. m. by eleven enlisted men detailed for that purpose. A sergeant selected from the prisoners for each hundred called the roll. The cooking of rations was performed by the pris- oners themselves, and fuel was sometimes issued to enable them to do this. When the fuel fell short, they ate their rations raw. Cahaba. This prison was an inclosure of about sixteen thousand square feet, surrounded by a brick wall, from which ex- tended a leaky roof, leaving about one thousand, six hun- dred feet of open space in the center of the yard. Here, in the early part of 1864, were confined between six and seven hundred men, which number was afterward largely increased. They were treated with great neglect, unpro- vided with beds, fuel, or water.* On the sixteenth day of October, 1864, there were two thousand, one hundred and fifty-one prisoners of war con- '■ H. U., 199. ' I f III II \M .. .^,.^.. „...,., 'mm ■ * 1 -^ — I I '0 1 ' '# '^- f)l w o o Prisoners of War. 425 fined within its narrow limits. The cooking was done by the prisoners themselves in the open area, and the smoke from the innumerable fires was insupportable to those beneath the shelter. Captain H. A. Anderson com- manded the post. The sleeping arrangements consisted of rough bunks, without straw or bedding of any kind save the hard plank and a few comforts. These bunks could accommodate but four hundred and thirty-two men. There was a single fire-place in the building, and fires were built sometimes upon the earthen floor of the barracks. The wood, when furnished at all, was either green sap pine or decayed oak from old fields. The supply of water for drinking, cooking, and bath- ing, as well as washing, was conveyed from an artesian well, along an open street gutter for two hundred yards, thence under the street into the prison. In its course it gathered the washings of the hands, feet, faces, and heads of soldiers, citizens, and negroes ; the slops of tubs, and the spittoons of groceries, offices, and hospitals, the wal- lowings and offal of hogs, dogs, cows, and horses.f It was an open sewer in the midst of a small town, and the re- ceptacle of the filth, solid and liquid, which the careless, indifferent or vicious might cast into it. The prisons here described, together with Anderson- ville, Millen, Savannah, Charleston, Columbia, and Macon, constitute the principal military posts occupied by Fed- eral prisoners during the war. Those last named are fully described in the narratives which precede. One sta- tion for captives in the Trans-Mississippi Department shall suffice. Camp Ford. This camp was located about six miles from Tyler, Texas, about one hundred miles nearly due west from Shreveport. On the arrival of the first detachment, of * H. R., 732. 426 Prisoners of War. some six hundred men, they were camped in the open woods. Afterward, a stockade was built, inclosing two and a half acres, which was subsequently enlarged to six. No shelters were furnished for the men, and the only pro- tection they had from the inclemency of the weather was such rude contrivances as they could construct of the limbs and boughs of trees, arranged in the form of cabins and thatched with mud. The usual dead line was an imaginary line some ten feet from the stockade, of which the sentry was the sole judge. Water was abundantly supplied, and no complaint is made for lack of it. The remaining fifty-six places of confinement were of a temporary character, small and unimportant. The oppor- tunity for the display of barbarity was on a diminished scale, but the suiFering of the individul prisoner was not less keen, although the aggregate horror was smaller. Reminiscences of severe and malicious treatment by offi- cers, soldiers, and citizens abound in charges of starva- tion, thirst, frost, and exposure, at Lynchbug, Tuscaloosa, Camp Groce; at Raleigh, Charlotte, Atlanta. In all of these experiences, whether disclosed by captured rebel documents or related b}' the prisoners themselves, there is the same unvaried tale of deprivation, indignity, severity. It is hardly to be presumed that this was the spontaneous sentiment of a people spread over so wide an area. There is every evidence of a directing hand — a thread running through all, which connected them with the same center. IV. FOOD, WATER, AND FUEL. The discipline of an army requires that the common soldier should be entirely dependent upon those in com- mand for his daily allowance of food. The variety, quantity, quality, and time of distribution must be regu- lated by ofiicers appointed for that purpose, without con- sultation of individual tastes, habits, preferences, or wants. Prisoners of War. 427 The soldier is a child, and helpless, except for the one purpose for which he is placed in the ranks. His comfort, health, and life are, of necessity, in the hands of his gov- ernment. He knows but one will : that of his immediate superior. He knows but one source of food : that, namely, of his commissary. He is taught to respect the hand that feeds him as the only source of his subsistence. On the other hand, it is equally to the interest of his commander that the private be supplied in sufficient quantity with good, wholesome food, in reasonable variety and at regular intervals. History records many battles lost through the weakness of the troops, which was caused by the lack of proper and sufficient alimentation. Ac- cordingly, the commissariat becomes in many respects the most important branch of the service, and has been made the subject of profound investigation in modern times, as it was of extensive experiment among ancient warlike nations. In armies operating over extensive geographical areas, embracing a large number of climatic changes and conditions, there is need of the closest attention to the de- tails of the commissary department. Nothing is better established in the physiological his- tory of armies than that a fixed quantity per diem of well- cooked solid food is essential to maintain the health, strength, and energy of the men. l^o government can ignore the limits which scientific investigation and prac- tical experience have fixed as the maximum and minimum. The amount given to the men in quarters is less than that issued in the field ; for, in addition to the drainage of the vital resources caused by active exertion in the latter case, is the drainage caused by exposure to sudden and often violent atmospheric changes, against which the system can be fortified only by proper alimentation. The testimony of all the prisoners shows the quantity of food issued to them by the rebel authorities to have been greatly below what was necessary for their health, even under the most favorable circumstances. All along the line of prison stations from Richmond to Camp Tyler 428 Prisoners of War. there is the same hollow, enfeebled cry for food. In but one instance, that at Savannah, do we miss the familiar sound. It forms the burden of the great bulk of evi- dence taken by the congressional committee, as it is the burden of every narrative published by the surviving vic- tims. The cry for food went up from the crowded ware- houses of Richmond, from the barren sands of Belle Isle. It made itself heard in the halls of the Confederate Con- gress, in the parlors of the Confederate executive. It fell upon pitiless ears there, as it fell elsewhere. Sudden and unforeseen accumulations of men ma}' bring hunger and exposure for the time. Prisoners taken at the front, par- ticularlj' in considerable numbers, may temporarily be un- provided. In the progress of a battle, such as was fought on so many fields during the late war, continuing for sev- eral days, the necessity of each party keeping its own active forces up to the proper fighting point, inevitably entailed hunger, and thirst, and exposure upon the non-partici- pants in the fight. The fighting columns must be fed, even although prisoners or wounded men were starved. But, the captives removed from the field of action, the conditions changed. There is no excuse, no palliation for their deprivation then. The ration aftbrded to men in quarters has been the subject of careful study in the military departments of Europe for many years, and the amount of food, as well as the quality and variety, most intelligently examined. As a result, we find as follows: The British soldier re- ceives of solid food, in home service, forty-five ounces; the seamen of the royal navy, forty-four ounces ; convicts, thirty-four ounces ; male pauper, twenty-nine ounces ; male lunatic, thirty-one ounces. The full diet of the hospitals of London furnishes from twenty-five to thirty-one ounces of solid food, besides from one to five pints of beer daily. The Russian soldier has about fifty ounces ; the Turkish, more than forty ounces; the French, nearly fifty ounces; the Hessian, thirty-three ounces; the Yorkshire laborer, fifty ounces; United States navy, fifty ounces; and the Prisoners of War. 429 soldier of the United States army, about fifty ounces of solid food.* The United States Grovernment issued to the rebel pris- oners, at the beginning of the war, thirty-eight ounces of solid food per ration. This was reduced to thirty-four and a half ounces in June, 1864, the reduction being in the bread ration. The ration before the reduction was as follows : Bread, eighteen ounces ; or corn-meal, twenty ounces. Beef, one pound; or bacon or pork, three-quarters of a pound. Beans, eight quarts per one hundred rations; or hominy or rice, ten pounds per one hundred rations. Sugar, fourteen pounds per one hundred rations. Rio coffee, seven to nine pounds per one hundred men. Adamantine candles, five ; tallow candles, six, per one hundred men. Soap, four pounds per one hundred men. Salt, two quarts per one hundred men. Molasses, four quarts per one hundred men. Potatoes, one pound per ration, three times a week. When beans were issued, hominy or rice was not issued. These were the rations to which the prisoners were en- titled. Bread was issued, in point of fact, and not corn- meal. Fresh beef was issued, during this time, four times a week. "When fresh beef was issued, a pound and a quarter was given. Subsequently to June 1, 1864, the rations to which the prisoner was entitled remained the same, but the amount actually issued to him was reduced as follows : Beef, two ounces; soft bread, four ounces; corn-meal, four ounces. Besides these there were, to every hundred rations, twelve and a half pounds of beans or peas ; eight pounds of rice or hominy; four pounds of soap; three quarts of vinegar; three and three-quarters pounds of salt ; and fifteen pounds of potatoes. Sugar, and coffee or tea, were issued only to the sick * Maityria, by Dr. Hamlin, p. 80. 430 Prisoners of War. and wounded, on the recommendation of the surgeon in charge, at the rate of twelve pounds of sugar, five pounds of ground or seven pounds of green coffee, or one pound of tea, to the one hundred rations, which was issued on alternate days. The surplus of the regulation ration over that actually issued was sold, and the proceeds placed to the credit of the prison fund, and expended in the purchase of extra vegetables, bed-ticks, straw, knives and forks, and the like, for the benefit of the prisoners themselves. Contrast with this variety and abundance the food sup- ply furnished the Federal prisoner : Unbolted corn meal, ground with the cob, nine ounces; beef, four ounces; bacon, four ounces ; peas, one-sixteenth of a quart ; rice, one ounce ; soft soap, one-thirty-second of a dram ; salt, one-hundredth of a quart; molasses, one-three-hundredth of a quart.* This was the ration at Andersonville. It was a little more at the other prisons, except at Florence, where it was less. While the quantity of food issued was less than suflii- cient to support life and health, even had it been of the best selected materials, it was still farther reduced below the necessities of the prisoner by being mixed with refuse. The unbolted corn meal contained, besides fragments of the cob, portions of the husk and sometimes of the stalk. The beans (black or cow peas) were served as they came from the threshing floor, with the husk of the pea fre- quently mixed with it, unwinnowed and unsifted, filled with dirt, and many times so eaten b}' worms and bugs as to leave only the outer shell of the pea. When this ration was served from the cook house the loathsome bugs and worms floated upon the surface, and were skimmed ofl^ when the prisoner's spoon had escaped confiscation, or blown off, or eaten by the ravenous victim. The bacon was tainted with rust, and often so decayed that the prisoner pulled it in pieces with his fingers and ate it raw, and so filled with maggots as to appear like a •See H. R.,212, 213. Prisoners of War. 431 moving, living, wriggling mass of worms. Fresh beef was sometimes issued at Andersonville, which had, after kill- ing, been thrown upon the ground and suffered to lie there in the hot sun until it was blown witli flies and green with decomposition. To crown the fearful horror, the food was hauled to the famishing men iu the same wagon in which they had, but a short time before, beheld their dead comrades carried out to the burial, half naked, and covered with scorbutic sores and gangrenous suppura- tion, with the worms that had consumed their living flesh still rioting in the dead remains; and all this filth was allowed to remain in the wagon and mingle with food the living were to eat. At some of the prisons the rations were issued raw, and then the prisoner, without utensils for cooking, and many times without fuel, was compelled to eat it raw or starve. The amount of salt issued for seasoning the food was too small to be considered. The meal was mixed with water in such vessels as the ingenuity of the prisoner could contrive, and baked upon a chip before the lire, if, as said above, there were materials of which to make it. Failing in this, they sometimes placed it in an abundance of water and allowed it to ferment, forming a sort of acid, which they called vinegar, and drank. In a pitiful way they prized this preparation, because they considered it a remedy for scurvy! The bread issued to them was made of the same kind of meal as was issued raw. Many of the prisoners assert that it was only warmed through, and in the inside of the loaf was entirely raw. Many stories are told of the un- ground corn found in the middle of the loaf. Often, and for the most trivial reasons, or for n» as- signed reasons at all, the miserable pittance was withheld entirely for one to three days. With characteristic econ- omy, back rations were never issued. If the day passed without the customary food, it was entered on the credit side in the books of the Confederate commissariat. To such extremities were these famished men reduced, that they caught rats, cooked and ate them with greedy 432 Prisoners of War. relish. At Belle Isle, they enticed the lieutenant-com- mandant's dog within the inclosure, killed and ate him. At Salisbury, they devoured, with the greed of wild beasts, the heads and entrails of animals issued to them for food. At Florence and Andersonville, they craved the bones from which the meat had been stripped, and boiled them in the water of the swamp for soup — and this not for one day, but for weeks and months. More than this, to as- suage the pangs of hunger, they were driven to the most revolting practices. At Belle Isle, some of the prisoners discovered the barrel into which the offal from the rations of the guard had been thrown, and, obtaining permission to go out to see the commandant, they dipped their hats into the filthy mass of scraps of meat, rinds, bones, and slops, and returned to their quarters to enjoy the feast. There was still one lower depth to which they were forced to descend ; so sharp were the cravings of hunger, that they watched the excrement and vomit of the dying com- rades for undigested food. This is no overdrawn pictXTre. Four hundred pages of testimony taken by the congressional committee, from men widely scattered over the country, who had survived their treatment at the hands of the rebels, are filled with ac- counts like these. Men who, on entering the prisons, turned the scale at one hundred and seventy pounds, had fallen off to ninety, after an imprisonment of a few months — not by sickness, not by wasting fevers, but by the slow process of starvation. To this scene of wretchedness, his- tory furnishes no parallel. Besides the scanty ration thus furnished, there is yet an- other misery which the Federal prisoner was compelled to undergo. The water supply, always meager, was full of pollution. At Belle Isle, it was brought within reach of the prisoners through a semicircular water-way ; the water of the river entering at its upper end, and flowing out a short distance below. The water frontage of the camp was small ; upon it the sinks were placed. It was acces- sible through a narrow lane, as heretofore described. Pris- oners assert that they were compelled to remove the hu- Prisoners of War. 433 man excrement upon its surface in order to dip their water- buckets or cups for water. The wells, subsequently dug within the inclosure, for a time supplied a wholesome quantity; but, as the camp filled up with men, these be- came contaminated by seepage, and undoubtedly were the means of introducing and intensifying the diseases to which the prisoners were exposed. At Salisbury, the main supply of water was wells dug by the prisoners themselves. It seemed no part of the Confederate duty to prisoners of war, to provide for them any thing but food and guards. In this respect, they fol- lowed their policy toward their slaves, whom they were accustomed to treat in a similar manner ; there being this difference in the conditions — the slave supplemented his ration by nocturnal depredations upon the plantation, the prisoner did not. The wells dug at Salisbury were pain- fully excavated by the prisoners, but their gaolers fur- nished them with no implements for this purpose They used their fingers and pieces of canteens, and laboriously opened, into the hard, stifi" clay, a passage to the cooling liquid. It was not necessary to locate this prison so far from a stream of water. The few buildings here employed for hospital and commissary purposes, could, at small ex- pense, have found a substitute upon the banks of the abundant stream that flowed a half a mile away, in cheap and commodious structures. According to the report of Inspector-General Hall, this lack of a proper water supplj' was a very serious ground of complaint. The nine wells which the prisoners had provided were supplemented by water from the stream, to which the prisoners had access, a certain number at a time, with buckets and barrels. The supply from all these sources was not sufiicient for more than cooking and drinking purposes. Nothing was allowed for bathing, for washing the hands or faces, or the scanty remnants of clothing which they possessed. The report of Inspector Hall M^as made when the number of prisoners was a little more than five thousand men. The number was afterward 28 434 Prisoners of War. increased to upward of ten thousand, with no increase of the water supply. Prisoners assert that, by nine o'clock in the morning, the wells were exhausted. For the re- mainder of the day, the detail " with buckets and barrels" furnished the only supply. It was drawn from the wells in tin cups, boot legs, hats, etc. There was extreme diffi- culty experienced in obtaining guards to accompany the prisoners outside the camp for the purpose of getting fuel. The same difficulty was experienced at Salisbury in the procurement of guards for the water detail. When guards could not be had, the wells furnished the supply. To one unaccustomed to the feeding and watering of large bodies of men, the question of the quantity of water necessary to the comfort of a single individual appears of a trivial nature. Yet water is as necessary to the well being of the animal as food, and is as indispensable for the nutrition of the body. The absence of water is a cer- tain source of suffering and disease. The world is famil- iar with the terrible sufferings in siege and shipwreck from thirst. In connection with the juices of the stomach, it is the solvent for food, and converts it from the solid condition into a state fit for absorption into the system. To deprive the system of this liquid is, therefore, to deprive it of food, and to induce and encourage disease. Besides this deprivation of water for the purposes of cooking and drinking, there was the lack of the necessary amount for washing the apparel and for bathing. Clean- liness of person was impossible. That this was the result of their necessities, and not the choice of the prisoners, is shown by the eagerness with which they emerged from their mud burrows during the showers that fell, and re- moving the filthy rags that partially covered them, rubbed each other with their hands, in keen enjoyment of the re- freshing exercise. How much this simple bath contrib- uted to their health no one can estimate. The fuel allowed in quarters to each mess of six men in the United States army is one hundred and twenty-eight cubic feet per month from April to October, inclusive. This is exclusive of that used in cooking. During the J-'n'soners of War. 435 months of November, Deceiiil)er, January, and February, the fuel ration is increased ouo-fourth at stations north of the thirtj'-ninth degree of north latitude, and one-third at stations north of the forty-third degree. During the cold winter of 1863-4, at Belle Isle, according to the statements of a large number of the prisoners, the amount did not exceed one-eighth of a cord to one hundred men. Mr. Borrence Atwater, in relating his experience, says : "Fuel was not furnished us regularly. We often went several daj'S in the severest weather without any warmth except what came from our bodies. Wo stoves were furnished to the prisoners. A single stick of pine cord wood would be issued to one tent. It would be split into splinters, and divided among the occupants. Each man's portion was about the size of a cigar box." * The number occupying the tent referred to by Mr. Atwater was thirteen. In the inclosed and covered prisons at Richmond, four armfuls of wood were issued for one room per day, and at Danville, when issued at all, it was in about the same quantity. At Belle Isle, Richmond, and Danville, cooked rations were issued. At Salisbury, the men were divided into squads of one hundred each, from one to seven of whom was detailed to go outside to procure it. The ra- tion was what each detail was able to bring in in their arms. It was green pine. At Florence, the same complaint is made as at Salis- burj-. Although the weather had become cold when they were placed in the open stockade, the wood issued was barel}' sufficient to cook the diminished ration. The creek that supplied them with water froze over, and ice formed in the little pools left over night in the camp- grounds. At Andersonville, the men burrowed into ttie ground with their fingers to gather roots with which to cook their rations. So destitute were they, that they ■often fought each other for the melanchol}' privilege of carrying the dead body of a comrade outside the prison pen, because on their return they could gather a few * H. R., 1024. 436 Prisoners of War. chips or twigs with which to cook their rations of meal. To such straits were they reduced in a country where the native forests exist in profuse abundance. V. KNOWLEDGE POSSESSED BY THE REBEL AUTHORITIES. To fix the responsibility of this dreadful condition of the prisoners upon the authorities at Richmond, it be- comes necessary to show that they possessed a full knowledge of the treatment. The evidence upon this point is partially inferential, partially direct. The strength of the circumstantial evidence rests in the credibility of the testimony and in the combination of facts connected with the situation : I. The number of prisoners remaining in rebel hands was so great after the practical nullification of the cartel of July, 1862, by Commissioner Oulds, that it became nec- essary to organize a special military department for their care and safe-keeping. Previous to this time the prison- ers captured east of the Mississippi had been, for the most part, detained at Richmond awaiting exchange. It is true, that Libby and Castle Thunder had already ac- quired a degree of celebrity, but the number of prisoners was comparatively small, and the treatment to which they were subjected was less severe, or at least less known. The proclamation of President Davis, declaring outlawry against the officers of General Pope's command, followed by a proclamation relegating officers of colored troops to the civil authorities of the states in which they might be captured to be tried for exciting what he was pleased to term a servile insurrection, had a tendency to stop the exchange of officers. The Federal government found it necessary, in order to protect its own officers, to hold such as it captured from the rebels as hostages for the proper treatment of its own men in rebel hands. The re- fusal to exchange officers naturally led to a refusal to ex- Prisoners of War. 437 cliiuige enlisted men, so that in the latter part of 1862, but more particularly before the autumn of 1863, exchange had practically ceased. This brought about an accumulation of prisoners, especially at Richmond, and grave questions arose as to the disposition to be made of them. At no time from the outset of the war did the prisonere- in rebel hands receive the consideration usually accorded to military captives in modern times. They were con- fined in close, illy- ventilated quarters ; they were placed upon a small supply of rations and fuel ; they suffered in- dignities at the hands of their guards, and of the officers of the prison. This may have been brought about by lack of preparation for their reception and care, rather than by design. The bitter feeling engendered by the vio- lent harangues of southern orators, and by the public press, previous to the breaking out of hostilities, had, in- deed, wrought the people at large to a pitch of exaspera- tion, not unmingled with contempt, which found expres- sion in abusive epithets and petty annoj-ances, that may have been beyond the knowledge of the military au- thorities. As the non-exchange policy continued, the accumula- tion of prisoners of war in and around Eichmond, forced upon the rebel authorities a knowledge of the manner in which they were treated by those in command over them. Reports of surgeons in charge of the prisoners' hospitals, letters addressed to President Davis, the evidence of his own inspection, the complaints of the prisoners themselves to oflicers connected with the war department, furnished such tales of suffering as forced the issuance of orders from the department, detailing special inspectors of prisons, with orders to report the result of their inspection. It is not probable that these movements in the war offices at Richmond, could have taken place without the knowledge and acquiescence of those highest in authority there. It is impossible, that a great bureau of the militarj^ depart- ment of the Confederacy could have carried on its opera- tions so secretly as to have escaped the notice of the chiefs of that department. It is equally incredible, that such a 438 Prisoners of War. subordinute bureau should have acted witliout general or- ders, or should have been invested with such discretionary powers as to relieve it from making detailed reports, that would carry correct information to the heads of the war department. The treatment of the prisoners during the memorable winter of 1863-4, was a matter of public noto- riety at Richmond. At Belle Isle, they were within sight of the executive mansion. Their miserable state was kaown of all men in the city. It was the subject of con- versation upon the street ; of wretched attempts at humor in the daily press.* Prisoners report the visits of Presi- dent Davis to Libby and to Belle Isle, whether of curiosity or of otticial duty is not known ; of General John Mor- gan, and others high in the confidence of the rebel gov- ernment; of Mrs. Seddon, wife of the secretary of war. The latter visit is not without interest, and a report of it is here given as made by one who was favored by the pres- ence of this lady : " We were visited [at Libbyj by Mrs. Seddon, wife of the rebel secretary of war, who, after ask- ing us a few questions, said we deserved to be gibbetted; called us hell hounds, hell monsters, etc.; said she would be glad to see us hung ; regretted that her government had not the power to do it ; but that we should be confined in a dungeon, and fed on bread and water, until we rot- ted." f The offense which aroused the ire of this highly- bred southern lady, was a participation in Kilpatrick's raid to relieve the prisoners then rotting in the warehouses of Richmond. Besides the indirect evidence of a knowledere on the part of the rebel officials of the wretched condition of the prisoners of war, above cited, there is further direct proof of at least a guilty acquiescence, if not of participation, in their barbarous treatment. The following letter is placed in evidence; it is among the captured rebel ar- chives, in possession of the war department at Washing- ton : * See " Richmond Examiner," January 21, 1864. t Captain J. A. Clark. H. R., 1109. Prisoners of War. 439 " First Regiment, Georgia Reserves. " Camp Sumter, Jime 23, 1864. "Respected Sir: — Being but a private in the ranks at this place, consequent!}', if I see any thing to condemn (as I do) I have no power to correct it. Yet, as a humane being, and one that believes that we should ' do as we would be done by,' I proceed to inform you of some things that I know you are ignorant of; and in the tirst place, I will say that I have no cause to love the Yankees (they having driven myself and family from our home in New Orleans to seek our living among strangers), yet I think prisoners should have some showing. Inside our prison walls all around, there is a space about twelve feet wide called the ' dead line.' If a prisoner crosses that line, the sentinels are ordered to shoot him. Now, we have many thoughtless boys here who think the killing of a ' Yank' will make them great men; as a consequence, ever}' day or two there are prisoners shot. When the officer of the guard goes to the sentry's stand, there is a dead or badly wounded man invariably within their own lines. The sentry, of course, says he was across the 'dead line' when he shot him. He is told he done exactly right and is a good sentry. Last Sabbath there was two shot in their tents at one shot; the boy said that he shot at one across the ' dead line.' Night before last there was one shot near me (I being on guard). The sentry said that the Yankee made one step across the line to avoid a mud hole. He shot him through the boAvels, and when the officer of the guard got there, he was lying inside their own lines. He (tlie sentry), as usual, told him that he stepped across, but fell back inside. The officer told him it was exactly right. Now, my dear sir, I know you are opposed to such measures, and I make this statement to you knowing you to be a soldier, statesman, and Christian, that, if possible, you may correct such things, together with many others that exist here. And yet, if you send an agent here, he will, of course, go among the officers, tell his business, and be told that ' all is well.' But let a 440 Prisoners of War. good man come here as a private citizen and mix with the privates, and stay one week, and if he don't find out things revolting to humanity, then I am deceived. I shall put my name to this, helieving that you will not let the officers over me see it, otherwise I would suffer, most probably. " Yours, most respectfully, " James £. Anderson." " P. S. — Excuse pencil. " President Jeff Davis." This letter had the following indorsements : " James E. Anderson, First Regiment, Geoi-gia Reserves, to Jeff Davis, Camp Sumter, Georgia, June 2-3, 1864. Asks correction of the brutal shooting of prisoners (Yankees) in that camp, without cause." "A. G.: — Referred to Brigadier-General Winder. By order. " J. A. Campbell, "A. S. W." " File. " July 23, 1864. " Respectfully referred, by direction of the president, to the honorable secretary of war. "J. C. Ives, "Colonel and Aide-de-Camp." "Received July 23, 1864. Received A. and I. G. O., July 25, 1864." The following letter, also, was directed to Jefferson Davis, and, like the previous one, was found among the rebel archives captured at Richmond: " Stateburq, South Carolina, October 12, 1864. " Dear Sir: — Inclosed you will find an account of the terrible sufferings of the Yankee prisoners at Florence, South Carolina. Prisoners of War. 441 " In the name of all that is holy, is there nothing that can be done to relieve such dreadful sutiering? "If such things are allowed to continue, they will most surely draw down some awful judgment upon our coun- try. It is a most horrible national sin, that can not go un- -punished. If we can not give them food and shelter, for God's sake parole them, and send them back to Yankee land ; but don't starve the miserable creatures to death. "Don't think that I have any liking for the Yankee. I have none. Those near and dear to me have suffered too much from their tyranny for me to have any thing but hatred to them; but I have not yet become quite brute enongh to know of such suffering without trying to do something — even for a Yankee. " Yours, respectfully, " Sabina Dismukes." Indorsements : " Sabina Dismukes, Stateburg, South Carolina, October 12, 1864. Forwards newspaper article on treatment Yan- kee prisoners at Florence, South Carolina. Asks that they may be fed or paroled." " Respectfully referred, by direction of the president, to the honorable secretary of war. "Burton N". Harrison, '^Private Secretary." "A. G. : Refer to Brigadier-General "Winder. " By order, J. A. Campbell, "October 23, 1864." "yl. S. W." " Respectfully referred to General Winder. " By order A. and I. General. "John W. Riely, "A. A. General." ^'A. and I. G. O., October 28, 1864." 442 Prisoners of Wctr. " Returned, January 7, 1865." " Returned, November 19, 1864." " Received, A. and I. G. 0., October 24, 1864." " Received, October 18, 1864." " Received at Camp Lawton, November 12, 1864." " Respectfully returned to the adjutant and inspector- general. The prisoners in South Carolina are not under my command. 1 can give no information ; nor can I ex- press an opinion. . . . "John H. Winder, " Brigadier- General." "■ Camp Lawton, November 14, 1864." " Respectfully referred to Brigadier- General Gardner. " By command of the secretary of war. "H. L. Clay, "A. A. g:' "A. and I. G. O., November 24, 1864." The clipping inclosed in the above letter w&s, from the " Sumter (S. C.) Watchman," and headed " The Prisoners at Florence." Extracts are here reproduced : " Mk. Editor : — It may not be uninteresting to your numerous readers to hear something from the Yankee camp at Florence. " The camp we found full of what were once human beings, but who would scarcely now be recognized as such. In an old field, with no inclosure but the living wall of sentinels who guard them night and day, are several thou- sand filth}', diseased, famished men, with no hope of relief except by death. A few dirty rags stretched on poles give them a poor protection from the hot sun and heavy dews. All were in rags, and barefoot, and .crawling with vermin. As we passed around the line of guards I saw one of them brouglit out from his miserable booth by two of his companions, and laid upon the ground to die. He was nearly naked. His companions pulled his cap over };is face and straightened out his limbs. Before they Prisoners of War. 443 turned to leave him he was dead. A slight movement of the limbs, aud all was over. The captive was free ! The commissary's tent was near one side of the square, and near it the beef was laid upon boards preparatory to its distribution. This sight seemed to excite the prisoners, as the smell of blood does the beasts of a menagerie. They surged up as near the lines as they were allowed, and seemed, in their eagerness, about to break over. While we were on the ground, a heavy rain came up, and they seemed greatly to enjoy it, coming out a puris natur- alibus, opening their mouths to catch the drops, while one would wash oiF another with his hands, and then receive from him the like kind office. Numbers get out at night and wander to the neighboring houses in quest of food. " From the camp of the living, we pass to the camp of the dead — the hospital — a transition which reminded me of Satan's soliloquy : " ' Which way I fly is hell : myself am hell ; And in the lowest deeps, a lower deep, Still threatening to devour me, opens wide.' "A few tents covered with pine tops were crowded with the dying and the dead in every stage of corruption. Some lay in prostrate helplessness; some had crowded under the shelter of the bushes ; some were rubbing their skeleton limbs. Twenty or thirty of them die daily — most of them, as I was informed, of the scurvy. The corpses lay by the roadside waiting for the dead cart, their glassy eyes turned to heaven, the flies swarming in their mouths, their big toes tied together with a cotton string, and their skeleton arms folded on their breasts. You would hardly know them to be men, so sadly do hunger, disease, and wretchedness change the human face* divine. Presently came the carts. They were carried a little distance to trenches dug for the purpose, aud tum- bled in like so many dogs. A few pine tops were thrown upon the bodies, a few shovelfuls of dirt, and then haste was made to open a new ditch for other victims. The burying parties were Yankees detailed for the work, an 444 Prisoners of War. appointment which, as the sergeant told me, they consider as a favor, for they get a little more to eat, and enjoy fresh air. . . . Howard." Under date of May 5, 1864, General Howell Cobb, com- manding the Georgia Reserves, made a report upon An- dersonville, inclosing with it the report of Surgeon E. J. Eldridge, Chief Surgeon Georgia Reserves, under date of May 6, 1864. General Cobb called attention to the over- crowded condition of the prison at that time, when it contained about twelve thousand men. He recommends the preparation of another prison, and says : " The effect of increasing the number within the present area must be a terrific increase of sickness and death during the sum- mer months." Surgeon Eldridge reports upon the bad condition of the prison and prisoners, and makes sugges- tions with a view to the betterment of the same. These reports were indorsed as follows : "Howell Cobb, Major-General, Head-quarters Georgia Reserves. Macon, May 5, 1864. Report on the prison at Audersonville, Georgia. One inclosure, A. and I, G. 0., received May 26, 1864. Received A. and I. G. O., May 21, 1864." " E. J. Eldridge, Chief Surgeon, Head-quarters Georgia Reserves. Macon, May 6, 1864. Report on the prison at Audersonville, Georgia." On the 5th of August, 1864, Lieutenant-Colonel D. T. Chandler, of the Confederate States Army, made an in- spection report on the Audersonville prison, in which is found the following : " N"o shelter whatever, nor materials for constructing any, had been provided by the prison au- thorities, and the ground being entirely bare of trees, none is within reach of the prisoners; nor has it been pos- sible, from the overcrowded state of the inclosure, to ar- i-ange the camp with any system. Each man has been permitted to protect himself as best he can, by stretching his blanket, or whatever he may have about him, on such sticks as he can procure. Of other shelter there has been none. There is no medical attendance within the stock- Prisoners of War. 445 ade. Many (twenty yesterday) are carted out daily who have died from unknown causes, and whom the medical officers have never seen. The dead are hauled out by the wagon load, and buried without coffins, their hands, in many instances, being first mutilated with an ax, in the removal of any finger rings they may have. Raw rations have been issued to a very large portion who are en- tirely unprovided with proper utensils, and furnished so limited a supply of fuel, they are compelled to dig with their hands in the filthy marsh before mentioned for roots, etc. No soap or clothing has ever been issued. After inquiry, the writer is confident that, with slight exertions, green corn and other anti-scorbutics could readily be ob- tained. The present hospital arrangements were only in- tended for the accommodation of ten thousand men, and are totally insufficient, both in character and extent, for the present need — the number of prisoners being now more than three times that great. The number of cases requiring medical treatment is in increased ratio. It is impossible to state the number of sick, many dying within the stockade whom the medical officers have never seen or heard of till their remains are brought out for inter- ment." In an additional report, date and place the same, Lieu- tenant-Colonel Chandler says further: "My duty requires me to respectfully recommend a change in the officer in command of the post, Brigadier-General J. H. "Winder, and the subsitution in his place of some one who unites both energy and good judgment with some feeling of hu- manity and consideration for the welfare and comfort (so far as is consistent with their safe-keeping) of the vast number of unfortunates placed under his control; some one who, at least, will not advocate deliberately and in cold blood the propriety of leaving them in their present condition until their number has been sufficiently reduced by death to make the present arrangement suffice for their accommodation; who will not consider it a matter of self- laudation and boasting that he has never been inside of 446 Prisoners of War. the stockade, a place the horrors of which it is difficult to describe, and which is a disgrace to civilization." These reports were indorsed as follows : "Anderson ville, Sumter county, Georgia, August 5, 1864, D. T. Chandler, Lieutenant-Colonel and Assistant Adjutant and Inspector-General. Report of inspection of military prison at Andersonville. Eighteen inclosures." "Anderson ville, Sumter county, Georgia, August 5,1864, D. T. Chandler, Lieutenant-Colonel, and Assistant Adjutant and Inspector-General. "Additional report of inspection at Andersonville. In- closure. Extract made for C. S. General." "Adjutant and Inspector-General's Office, "August 18, 1864. " Respectfully submitted to the Secretary of War. The condition of the prison at Andersonville is a reproach to us as a nation. " Colonel Chandler's recommendations are concurred in. " By order of General S. Cooper. " R. H. Chilton, A. A. and I. G." " Secretary op War : — These reports show a condition of things at Andersonville which calls very loudly for in- terposition of the department, in order that a change may be made. J. A. Campbell, '^Assistant Secretary of War." In Colonel Chandler's examination upon the Wirz trial, this report, captured among the rebel archives, was put in evidence, and the following further indorsement, partially obliterated, was upon it : " This report discloses a condition of things impera- tively demanding prompt and decisive measures of relief. The discomforts and sufferings of the prisoners seemed almost incredible, and the frightful perceutum of mortality steadily increasing, until in the month of July it had at- Prisoners of War. 447 tained the extent of 8ixty-two and seven-tenths per thou- sand, and appears to be only a necessary consequence of the criminal indifference of the authorities charged with their care and custody. ISTo effectual remedy for all the evils seems available, so long as the numbers are in such large excess over that for which the prisons were de- signed ; but some things can be ... at once to ameliorate the con . . . Colonel Chandler, whose recommend . . . are approved by Colonel Chilton, suggests the relief of General Winder and substitut . . . of some other commander. The state . . . things disclosed in the reports can not . . . "Witness: These indorsements show the report was laid before the Secretary of War. I do not know of any action taken on the report by the Secretary of War. Gen- eral Winder was assigned to the command of all the pris- oners about two weeks afterward, I think. He was as- signed as commissary-general of prisoners." * From the testimony of Captain C. M. Selph, A. A. G., C. S. Army, before the court in the Wirz trial, it is scarcely to be doubted that the reports of Colonel Chand- ler, and the inclosures accompanying them — reports of prison commandants, surgeons, etc. — were brought to the personal notice of Jefferson Davis. In August, 1864, Surgeon Joseph Jones, of the Confed- erate army — now of New Orleans, and one of the most distinguished physicians of the country — under authority from the surgeon-general of the Confederate army, visited Andersonville and made a most elaborate report upon the place and its inmates. No one who reads this exhibit will ever doubt any thing which prisoners have written con- cerning the miseries of that prison. It is too long for entire reproduction, and a brief quotation, relating to space, shelter, police and order, is made here : " The Federal prisoners were gathered from all parts of the Confederate States east of the Mississippi and crowded into the confined space, until, in the month of June, the * H. E., p. 133. 448 Prisoners of War. average number of square feet of ground to each prisoner was only 32.3, or less than four square yards. These fig- ures represent the stockade in a better light even than it really was ; for a considerable breadth of land along the stream, flowing from west to east between the hills, was low and boggy, and covered with the excrements of the men, and thus rendered wholly uninhabitable, and, in fact, useless for every purpose except defecation. The pines and other small trees and shrubs which originally were scattered sparsely over these hills were in a short time cut down by the prisoners for fire-wood, and no shade tree was left in the entire inclosure of the stockade. With their characteristic industry and ingenuity, the Federals- constructed for themselves small huts and caves, and at- tempted to shield themselves from the rain and sun and night damps and dew. But few tents were distributed to- the prisoners, and those were, in most cases, torn and rot- ten. In the location and arrangements of these huts, no order appears to have been followed; in fact, regular streets appear to be out of the question on so crowded an area— especially, too, as large bodies of prisoners were from time to time added suddenly and without any prepa- rations. The irregular arrangement of the huts and im- perfect shelters was very unfavorable for the maintenance of a proper system of police. " The police and internal economy of the prison was left almost entirely in the hands of the prisoners them- selves; the duties of the Confederate soldiers acting as guards being limited to the occupation of the boxes or lookouts ranged around the stockade at regular intervals, and to the manning of the batteries at the angles of the prison. Even judicial matters pertaining to the prisoners themselves, as the detection and punishment of such crimes as theft and murder, appear to have been in great measure abandoned to the prisoners. . . . " The volume of water was not suflacient to wash away the feces, and they accumulated in such quantities as to form a mass of liquid excrement. Heavy rains caused the water of the stream to rise, and, as the arrangements for Prisoners of War. 449 the passage of the increased amount of water out of the stockade were insufficient, the liquid feces overflowed the low grounds and covered them several inches after the subsidence of the waters. The action of the sun upon this putrefying mass of excrements and fragments of bread and meat and bones excited most rapid fermenta- tion and developed a horrible stench. . . . " From want of proper police and hygienic regulations alone, it is not wonderful that from February 24 to Sep- tember 21, 1864, nine thousand four hundred and seventy- nine deaths, nearly one-third the entire number of prison- ers, have been recorded." The following extracts are made from a report of Sur- geon William A. Carrington, of General Winder's staff, upon the condition of the military hospitals at Richmond: " The great mortality and sufiering among our prisoners has been a cause of constant care and painful solicitude to me. Daily reports have been made to the general com- manding, and the surgeon-general, of the mortality, etc. Inclosures Nos. 1, 2, 3, 5 and 6 will show that I made requisition on the Y)roper authority for additional hospital accommodation, and named the Texas Hospital, General Hospital No. 10, General Hospital No. 20, and General Hospital No. 23, in succession, as proper buildings. I also offered the Third Alabama Hospital when closed, and proposed to use for this purpose Howard's Grove Hospital, which has 1,150 beds, is temporarily closed, and is isolated from the city and all other buildings; or part of Chimbo- razo Hospital, which has 3,200 beds. I was informed that they could not be used for this purpose, as guard sufficient could not be furnished, and that only in buildings with several stories and few entrances could the sick and wounded prisoners be guarded with the force furnished. " I brought the matter to the attention of the surgeon- general in a personal interview ; told him of the diffi- culties existing, and that I had represented the violation of hygienic laws in the prisons and prison hospitals without 29 450 Prisoners of War. effect, and understood from his remarks that the matter was one of international policy and military control. . . . " I lost no occasion to make known to the proper au- thorities the violation of ordinary hygienic laws, and, while I looked upon the spectacle with pain and morti- fication, I was deterred from further remonstrance by a feeling that it was supererogatory, and might be under- stood as disrespectful. Large, well-ventilated, and com- pletely organized hospitals near the city have been empty during the whole of this time. They were offered and re- fused. . . . " William A. Carrington, "Medical Director. " General John H. Winder." To this report, which is dated March 23, 1864, is ap- pended the following : " Note. — When the three hospital buildings were sepa- rate Confederate hospitals, they contained 650 beds, room being left for store-rooms, kitchen, apothecary shops, mess-rooms, dining-rooms, bath-rooms, and offices. The officers' portion of the hospital also contained more than 100 beds, making 750 beds. W. A. C." * VI. ABILITY OF THE CONFEDERATE AUTHORITIES TO RELIEVE THE SUFFERINGS OF THE PRISONERS. That in some respects the Confederate authorities were unable to relieve the terrible sufferings endured by the prisoners in their hands must be admitted. The strict blockade of the coast prevented the importation of medi- cines, particularly those prepared from exotic plants. The chemical works of the South were neither numerous nor extensive. They were limited in their supply of H. R. 590-7. Prisoners of War. 451 quinine and of the various preparations made from opium, the lack of which was severely felt, not oiilj- by the pris- oners, but by the sick of their own armies also. Their only dependence for these remedies was upon their captures of hospital stores, and blockade runners. Eemedies of other kinds were nearly inaccessible, and there was probably lit- tle skill in chemical technology among the southern scien- tists, even if it had been possible to procure the materials for the manufacture of remedies for the various diseases incident to the climate of the South. Although the dispensatories of the Richmond hospitals are said to have been well equipped in the early part of the war, there is reason to believe that in the latter years the supply had become depleted to such an extent as to render the services of the physician nearly useless in dis- eases of the malarial type. It is claimed by the apologists for the wretched treat- ment that our prisoners received in rebel hospitals, that the Richmond authorities endeavored to negotiate the purchase of medical supplies of the United States govern- ment, paying for the same with cotton, to be delivered in New York; that they pledged the honor of their govern- ment that the supplies so purchased should be used ex- clusively for the benefit of Union prisoners. ISTo record of any offer of this kind is published in the report of the War Department upon the treatment of prisoners of war. But if such a proposition is admitted to have been made, the fact, well known to the United States authorities, that clothing and food sent by the government and by the friends of prisoners in rebel hands, were generally di- verted from the purpose to which they were assigned, would lead them to doubt the good faith of their enemies, and to have little reliance upon their pledge of honor. Admitting the inability of the Richmond authorities to furnish a well-equipped medical department for the prisoners, and that suffering and loss of life on this ac- count can not be charged against them, because, through the exigencies of war, they were unable to procure them, the great and most important of the causes which pro- 452 Prisoners of War. duced the enormous mortality of Union prisoners was not due to this lack. There was another and a much larger factor in the dreadful result. 1. The prisoners, as has been seen, were crowded into- buildings entirely too small for the accommodation of the numbers incarcerated in them, or into open stockades, without shelter from the heat or from the rain. In the Libby prison there were more than eleven hundred men confined at one time. Taking the measurement of the building at 100 x 105 feet on each of the two stories, it would give less than 25 square feet to a man. In this crowded condition, they lived day after day with no beds, no bunks, no seats, but the bare floor. They had been de- prived of the greater part of their clothing, as blankets and overcoats, at the beginning of their prison life. They were forbidden to approach the windows for fresh air. They were allowed no exercise in the open space. They had no means of bathing or of washing, except such a& could be obtained from the faucet of the hydrant in their room. The sinks which they were obliged to use were in the room in which they were confined, and the atmosphere was impregnated with sewer gas. Surely this was not beyond the control of the commissary-general of prison- ers or of the war department. Like conditions are found in all the other prison buildings in which officers were confined. In the prisons for privates, the conveniences were even more restricted. The men were more densely crowded; many of them were nearly naked, having been stripped of coats, vests, and boots either at the time of capt- ure or upon admission to the prison. They were not fur- nished with fuel, or with any means of using it had it been furnished. They had no organization for policing their rooms, nor were they allowed any from their captors. They had no facilities for bathing their bodies, nor for washing the tatters which constituted their apparel. The food given them induced laxity of the bowels, but they were not afforded suitable means for taking care of them- selves. Wlien their prison floor was scrubbed, they were Prisoners of War. 453 compelled to lie upon it for sleep before it became dry. They were kept without exercise and without fresh air. At Danville, they were denied a necessary supply of water, even for drinking. Parasites swarmed upon their bodies ; they filled their hair, and the rebels deprived them of their combs. Discomfort, amounting to a plague, tormented them when they awoke and when they slept. Hunger, thirst, fever for want of water, sickness, parasitic pests, cold, dampness, vitiated air, contact with misery — these attended them every- where and at all times. If there was not food in the southern states for these men, surely there was air, fresh, pure, and vitalizing ; there was abundance of sparkling water; the land was covered with boundless forest. Lumber trees grew in the greatest profusion in the near vicinity. Bunks would have been constructed had the prisoners been permitted to build them. Among the soldiers in the northern army, there was scarcely a man who had not some mechanical skill with tools. Warm, and even soft beds could have been made of the "pine straw" that lay rotting beneath their forest trees. Rude it might have been, but far better than the hard and oftentimes damp floor. In the open stockades the situation increased the wretchedness a hundred fold. Here the men were ■crowded together in herds like cattle. They were sur- rounded with high walls in aii open pen without shade or shelter. They were compelled, at Andersonville, to q Brauchville, S. C, a halt at 109 Branchville, S. C, firing heard at 172 Brandt, Captain C. W., mortality of officers 125 Bridge building in Columbia jail 91 Bridge, on Pearl river 4Q7 Brown, Lieutenant, in dark cell 33 Bugling extraordinary jO Biuldings, prison, crowded state of 452 Bulldozer discomfited I ^ o Index. 557 Burial of Union officers, prisoners 132 Burrows, mud, at Andersonville 242 Burrows, mud, at Florence 424 Burrows, mud, at Millen 363 Burrows, mud, at Salisbury 421 Butler, General B. F., siege of Fort Darling 30 Butler, General B. F., Commissioner of Exchange 482 " Butterflies'' 13 Byers, Adjutant, S. H. M., author of " Sherman's March to the Sea" . 106 Cahaba prison 424 Camp Ford prison 425 Camp Lawton prison, Millen, Ga 362 Camp Oglethorpe prison, Macon 41 Camp Sorghum prison, Columbia 74 Camp Svimter prison, Andersonville 221 Captain, a traitorous, U. S. Infantry 56 Capture of prisoners. Yellow Tavern 17 Card playing 104 Carolina, North, passage through 38 Carolina, North, Union sentiment in 173 Carpenter, Captain, beaten by a guard 38 Carrington, Surgeon W. A., report of 449 Cars captured at Beaver Dam 15 " Castle Thunder " 29 Cattle in the South 457 Cavalrj', Army of the Potomac 3 Cavalry, Army of Northern Virginia 21 Cavalry charges 7-18 Cavalry dismounted in the 9th Corps 13 Cavalry guards in Confederacy 409 Cavalry, Michigan, 1st Regiment of IS Cavalry, Michigan, 5th Regiment of IS Cavalry, Michigan, 6th Regiment of IS Cavalry, Michigan, 7th Regiment of 19 Cavalry, United States, a lieutenant of 47 Cavalry, uses of 7 Celebration, 4th of July, 1804 48 Cell, dark, in Libby Prison 33 Cemetery at Andersonville 302 Chandler, Colonel C. T., report on Andersonville 444 558 Index. Chandler, Colonel C. T., report on General Winder 445, 465 Charleston, S. C, desolation and ruin in 112 Charleston, S. C, prisons of 67 Chickamauga, battle of 152 Chicken detective 64 Chickasaw Bayou, captives at 406 Chilton, Colonel R. H., on General Winder 466 Clark, Captain John A., in dark cell 33 Clark, Captain John A., testimony of 438 Clerks, surgeon's, at Andersonville 281 Clothing furnished to rebel prisoners 378 Clothing furnished to Union prisoners 378 Clothing, washing and repairs of 100 Cobb, General Howell, report of 444 Coffee, substitute for 75 Cold, suffering from, on Belle Isle 417 Cold, suffering from, at Danville 420 Cold, Buffering from, at Salisbury 422 Coleman, Lieutenant, in dark cell 33 Colic, a car load of 39 Colored troops 4 Columbia, S. C, prisons at 71 Commissary-General Prisoners, U. S. A., orders of 1 38 Commission, U. S. Sanitary, good offices of loi 199 Commission, U. S. Christian, good offices of 3,S9 390 Committee, Congressional, evidence collected by 402 Communication with dark cell 34 Confederate economy J97 203 431 Confederate exchanged prisoners turning over clothing 93 Confederate officer, concerning treatment of Union prisoners 98 Contrast between enlisted men and officers \\q Cook-houses at Andersonville 9yj Cooking 201 Cooking utensils 1Q9 Cooke, Major E. F., in dark cell 33 Cooke, Captain H. P., testimony of 93 Corn in the South 45- Corps, cavalry 3 Corps, Hancock's, 2d g Corps, Provisional 9th ^3 Index. 559 Corps, Twentieth 149 Cow at Savanuali 64 Crawford, Lieutenant li. B., on deaths at Columbia 125 Criminals in Charleston jail 68 Culture, intellectual, in prison 184 Cumberland, sloop-o£-war 49 Curiosity, native 40 Cupidity, rebel official 26, 119 Custer, General Geo. A., at Yellow Tavern 18 Danville, Va., prisons at 419 Daniels, Captain E. S 105 Davis, Jefferson, on a stumping tour 353 Davis, Jefferson, visits Union prisoners 438 Dead, disposal of, at Anderson ville 299 Dead-house at Anderson ville 298 Death at Andersonville 386 Death of first prisoner at Danville 195 Deaths among officers 120 Decency outraged at Columbia 78 Deserters, rebel, in Charleston jail 68 Disability of surviving prisoners 475 Diseases at Andersonville 282-454 Diseases, principal, in officers' prisons 103 Dismukes, Sabina, letter to Jeff Davis 440 Diversions of prisoners 208 Dog eaten at Belle Isle 233 Dreams, influence of starvation upon 182 Dreams influenced by an oath 53 Drugs at Andersonville 282, 290 "Dug-outs " at Columbia 77 Dygert, Captain K. S 85 Dysentery at Andersonville 288 Earth-works at Belle Isle 417 Eating-house at Branch ville 112 Economy, Confederate 197, 203, 431 Eldridge, Surgeon E. J., report of 478 Enlisted men, horrible condition and mortality of 389 Enlisting prisoners for rebel army 305 Entrails devoured 432 Escapes from Andersonville 273 560 Index. Escapee from Columbia jail 90 Escapes from Camp Sorghum 79 Escape, H. 31. Davidson's 309 Escape, Captain J. T. 31 organ 80 Escape, organization for 194 Escape, plans for, at Danville 194 Eternity, within an inch of 64 " Examiner," Richmond, letter from rebel surgeon in 137 " Examiner," Richmond, on prisoners' rations 180 Exchanged, enlisted men from Andersonville 113 Exchange of sick and wounded 108 Exchange, why stopped 94 Exchange views of enlisted men 375 Excrement in Smith Prison 177 Excrement at Danville 210 Excrement at Andersonville 455 Expedients to get on disabled list 109 Expectations, rebel, in case of defeat 27 Faucet substituted for a pistol Ill Fevers at Andersonville 289 Fever, Yellow, among Union officers 124 Flag, " God's " 50 Flag, sinking crew saluting 49 Flag, supreme and memorial 115 Flag of truce boats 112 Flankers obtaining subsistence 16 Fleet, Admiral Porter's 114 Floor space in Smith Prison 176 Florence Prison 423 Food, ability of rebels to furnish 457 ei g^q^ Food of British soldier 42g Food of British pauper 428 Food of French soldier 423 Food, insufficiency of, supplied by rebels 43O Food, quality of, in rebel prisofis 431 Food of Russian soldier „ , 428 Food supplied in rebel prisons 430 Food of Turkish soldier 428 Food of U. S. sailor , 428 Food of U. S. soldier 429 Index. 561 Food of Yorkshire laborer 428 Force, General M. F., subsistence return 458 Fort Darling, siege of 30 Fort Fisher, capture of 115 Fortifying at Andersonville 257 Fourth of July, 18G4 49 Fox, Major Geo. B., statement of 98 Frantic women and children 19 Freezing at Belle Isle 417 Freezing at Salisbury ^ 422 Fuel supplied in rebel prisons 435 Fuel supplied in U. S. army 434 Furloughs for shooting Yankees 84 Furnace on fire 5 Furnace road 5 Gamblers at Andersonville 255 Games among prisoners 104 Gangrene at Andersonville 286 Garbage, scramble for 432 Gay, Lieutenant 38 Gee, Major, Salisbury prison 467 Generals, brigadier, at Macon 44 Georgia, 1st regiment of 439 Gibson, General, interview with 348 Glee club 105 Goodspeed's battery 151 Goss, Warren L., testimony of 466 Granger, Major Henry W., death of 21 Grant, General U. S., on exchange 94 Gratitude of sick for favors 295 Gray-backs 34, 99 Greenwood, Lieutenant, burial of 133 Griffin Station, Ga., raid on 60 Grierson, Lieutenant Otto, shot at Macon 82 Guests, abiding 98 Guns on Morris Island 113 Hall, Inspector T. W., report of 422, 433 Hamilton, Rev. Wm. J 296 Hanging miscreants 261 Harris, Lieutenant Samuel, statement of 125 36 562 Index. Hatred of Northern by Southern people 404 Heckman, General 45 Hill, Lieutenant Geo. W 24 Hog killing at Columbia 75 Hogs, searching for 346 Homesickness 103 Hopkins, Dr. T. S., report of 478 Hospital at Andersonville 280 Hospital at Chickamauga 155 Hospital at Columbia 103 Hospital at Florence 443 Hospital at Millen 364 Hospital at Richmond 451 Hospital Roper and Charity 07 Hospital at Salisbury 422 Hotel, City, at Charleston 112 Hours, calling the 42 Hovels at Columbia 76 " Howard," communication of 442 Hucksters, prison 251 Hudson, , escape of 309 Humes, Major, prison quartermaster 263 Hundred Days Men 78 Ideas respecting the North 403 Idiocy caused by prison treatment 248 Idleness, how avoided 208 Imprisonment, results of 470 Indignities repelled at Danville 212 Infantry, recapture of 15 Insanity from prison treatment 114 Insect pests 99 Intelligence, how obtained yy Isett, Major J. H 105 Island, Johnson's, rebel prisoners on 1 So, 137 Island, Johnson's, mortality 128 Iverson, Lieutenant-Colonel J. F 423 Jail at Charleston, S. C 53 Jail yard at Charleston, S. C (J7 Jail birds at Charleston, S. C 63 Jail at Columbia 89 Index. . 663 Johnson, General Bradley T 423 Jones, " Crazy " 297 Jones, Dr. Joseph, report of 447 Jones, J. W., statements of, refuted 47g Killing blood-hounds 30 Killing prisoners g2 Ladies, charitable at Andersonville ^gg Lady, loyal at Columbia <,q Lee, General Fitz Hugh 7 Lee, General S. D ^ 5,j 349 Letters withheld by Wirz 265 Libby prison 29 Lice in Smith prison 182 Lice hunting 99 Lice on truce boat 100 Lincoln, President, voting for 95^ 366 Litchfield, Lieutenant-Colonel A. C, in dark cell 33 Locomotives, captured 15 Longstreet, General 156 Macon, Ga., prison at 41 Maggots infesting sores 286 Maggots in bacon issued 31 Malcontents 13 Marauders in Andersonville 259 March, cavalry, delights of 14 Marching into Wilderness •. 4 " March to the Sea," Sherman's 106 Market at Andersonville 251 Massachusetts officers captured 30 Massacre at Fort Pillow 471 McClellan, General, vote for 95, 360 McRae, D. G., recommendations of 405 Meat deprivation 75, 431 INIeat ration at Columbia 75 Medical reports, rebel 454 Medical treatment, prison 444 Medicines in the South 282, 290 ]\Ien and officers, condition compared 1 16 Men enlisted, cruelties to 37 Mental state from insufficient food 31, 474 564 Index. Michigan cavalry at Yellow Tavern 18 Millen, Ga., prison at 36 Militia, Georgia, at Andersonville 268 Mind, relief for 87 Money, Confederate, at Columbia 93 Money, Confederate, capture of 15 Money, Confederate, abundance and value of 93 Money taken at Richmond 174 Moral sense, perversion of, by starvation 32 Morgan, Captain J. T., escape of 80 Morsel, a delicious 75 Mortality, Andersonville ; 385 Mortality, Confederate prisoners of war 475 Mortality, general, of prisoners 470 Mortality, negro prisoners 473 Mortality, Union officers 1 19 Mortality, United States army 126 Mortality, Johnson's Island 128 Mortality, Belle Isle 472 Mortality, Salisbury 472 Mortality, Camp Ford 471 Murderers at Andersonville 259 Murder of prisoners, Macon and Columbia 82 Murder of prisoners, Andersonville 298, 305 Music, prisoners' 105 Kegro prisoner!,, mortality of 472 Negroes captured near Richmond 29 Negroes in dark cell 34 Negroes true to Union prisoners 87 Nelson, Lieutenant Wm 52 " News," Savannah, editorial extract 133 Newspapers at Andersonville 307 Newspapers in the Confederacy 87 Newspapers at Richmond 179 Northrop, rebel commissary-general 458 Oath of the " Five Hundred " 53 Oath, the worthlessness of 75 Offal eaten by prisoners 45 Officials, rebel, cupidity of 22 Officials, rebel, profit from prisoners 22 174 Index. 565 Officials, rebel, prosperity of 26 Officer, Union, bayoneted 74 Opium taken at hazard 40 Organization, " Council of Five Hundred " 52 Organizations against Secretary Stanton 93 Outlook from Libby 35 Ould, Colonel Robert, rebel commissioner of exchange ■ 460 Ould, Colonel Robert, appropriates prisoners' supplies 461 Ould, Colonel Robert, duplicity of 403 Ovens, baking, Andersonville 271 Ovens, baking, Savannah 62 Paroled for exchange 108 Parole of hospital attendants Vu, 270, 281 Patterson, Captain F. A 105 Pearl river bridge 407 Pediculi corporis 99 Pelot, Dr., rebel surgeon 290 Pemberton prison 177 People of South assisting Union prisoners 97 Phelan, James, letter of 404 Pies, leather ) 67 Plymouth, N. C, prisoners 2:55 Pneumonia at Andersonville 2S9 Pocotaligo, S. C , . . . . 54 Police, prison, at Andersonville 263, 448 Police, prison, at Millen 366 Police, prison, at Savannah 358 Police regulations at Andersonville 263 Porter, Admiral, fleet of 114 Potatoes in the South 457 Powell, General Thos., statement of 461 Pratt, Major J. E ■. 106 Presses, tobacco, in Smith prison 185 Presses, tobacco, at Danville 208 Preston, General Wm 156 Priests, Catholic, at Macon 92 Priest, Catholic, at Andersonville 296 Prices, sutler's, at Columbia 76 Price, Tazewell W., letter of 405 Prison, Andersonville 221 566 Index. Prison, Belle Isle 416 Prison, Cahaba 424 Prison, Camp Ford 425 Prison, " Castle Thunder " 30 Prison, Charleston 67 Prison, Columbia 74 Prison, Danville 191, 490 Prison, Florence 423 Prison, Libby 31, 415 Prison, Macon 41 Prison, Millen 362 Prison, Pemberton 176 Prison, Salisbury 420 Prison, Savannah 61, 357 Prison, Scott 176 Prison, Smith 176 Prisoners, rebel exchanged, turn over clothing 98 Prisoners, rebel, treatment by U. S. government 134 Prisoners entitled to good treatment 401 Prisoners, negro, at Andersonville 266 Prisoners, negro, massacred in Mississippi 471 Prisoners on transport steamer 373 Prisoners, removal from Andersonville 3(30 Prisoners, robbing of 4Qg Prisoners, Union, hunted by blood-hounds 274 Prisoners, Union, murdered 298 Prisoners, Union, treatment of, premeditated 193 405 457 Prisoners, Union, treatment, time of capture 408 Prisoners, Union, treatment on arrival at prison 41X Prisoners, Union, treatment on the march Ana Prisoners, Union, treatment on the cars 41 Privations test men „_ 80 Privies in Smith prison , ,.„ Punishments for escape ^cq Punishments at Andersonville 274-''~S Quarters at Andersonville 201 Quarters at Cahaba . 24 Quarters at Camp Ford 49- Quartcrs at Danville ,ni Quarters at Florence ^23 Index. 567 Quarters at Macon 41 Quarters at Millen ■ 3g2 Quarters at Richmond 31 i7g 4^5 Quarters at Salisbury 420 Quarters at Savannah q\ 357 Quarters, construction of, at Columbia 74 Railroad, tearing up J5 Raiders at Andersonville 262 Rains at Andersonville 288 Rains at Macon 42 Ration, Confederate prison 378 430 Ration, U. S. prison 373 Rations at Andersonville 229 Ration distribution at Andersonville 229 Rations at Charleston 68 Rations at Columbia 74 Rations at Danville X96 Rations at Florence 424, 432 Rations at Libby prison 31 rations at Macon 43 Rations at Jlillen 263 Rations at Salisbury 432 Rations at Savannah 358 Rations at Smith prison 179 Rations, rebel, irregularity of issue ] 79 Rats eaten by prisoners 233, 431 Reeves, Dr., rebel surgeon 290 Regulations, sanitary 104 Reid, Captain Wm., rebel provost marshal 157 Reports, rebel mortality, unreliable 471 Report, U. S. House Representatives 402 Report of General Barnes 379 Report of Major Brady 3S4 Report of Surgeon Carrington 449 Report, of Colonel Chandler 444 Report of General Howell Cobb 444 Report of Surgeon Eldridge 478 Report of Inspector-General Hall 433 Report of Surgeon T. H. Hopkins 478 Report of Dr. Joseph Jones 447, 454 568 Index. Report of Surgeon Richardson 471 Report, sick, at Andersonville 445 Report of Surgeon I. H. AVhite 477 Report of Lieutenant Whittemire 379 " Republican," Savannah, extract from 133 ReBponsibility for non-exchange 376 Retaliation, views regarding 377 Retaliation, U. S. Senate Committee on 93 Reward for shooting prisoners 84 Richards, Captain R. G., in Columbia jail 89 Richardson, Dr. T. G., report of 471 Richmond, Va., prisons of 413 Roach, Lieutenant A. C, on yellow fever deaths 125 Roach, Lieutenant W. E., statement of 59 Road, Telegraph 16 Robbers at Andersonville 259 Robbing captives on the field 408 Robbing captives at Atlanta 169 Robbing captives at Danville 196 Roll-call at Andersonville 227 Roll-call at Smith prison 180 Rowzie, Dr., rebel surgeon 290 Salisbury prison 42o Sanders, Dr., rebel surgeon 290 San tee river, floating down 8q Savannah, prisons at 60 Scurvy at Andersonville 9g7 Scurvy reappears at Columbia 75 Seddon, J. A., rebel secretary^^of war 450 Seddon, Mrs., visits Libby 400 Selph, Captain A. M., testimony of 447 Senn, Captain, rebel commandant oi Shank's report a^'} Sheds at Macon . , Shelter at Belle Isle 4,7 Shelter at Florence ao. Shelter at Salisbury .9, Shelter at Savannah ocy Shelterless at Columbia jj Sheridan, General P. H -.o Index. 569 " Sherman's March to the Sea " 106 Shooting enlisted men 439 Sick, treatment of 449 Sick, treatment of, at Anderson villa 290 Sick reports at Andersonville 387 Singing in Columbia jail (j9 Slavery, brutalizing influence of 4O3 Sleep, a sound 27 Sleeping at Smith prison Xy ^ Small-pox at Danville 198 Small-pox at Richmond 187 Smith prison 17(j Smith, Sergeant 303 Snow at Salisbury 422 Soldiers, northern, southern ideas of 404 Soldiers, colored, in Charleston jail (i8 Soldiers, colored, at Andersonville 266 Soldiers, colored, in Libby prison 34 Soldiers, coloi'ed, mortality of, in prison 473 Songs, patriotic, at Macon 49 Songs in Charleston jail 69 Songs by prisoners' glee club 105 Soup issued at Danville 202 Soup issued at Libby 31 Sorghum at Columbia •. 74 Spencer, Ambrose, testimony of 464 Spring at Andersonville 268 Stanton, E. M., organizations to assassinate 93 " Star of the South " transport 372 Statistics, mortality, of prisons -* 471 Statistics, mortality, U. S. army 126 Steedman, Colonel I. G. W., on Johnson's Island 128 Stevens', Q. 0., estimate of Winder 4()5 Stockade at Andersonville 221 Stocks at Andersonville 27S-280 Stoneman, General Geo. H., refuses parole 86 Stoneman, General Geo. H., raid of 60 Streight, Colonel A. D., punishment of 416 Stuart, General J. E. B., mortally wounded 23 Supplies, robbing prisoners of 200 670 Index. Sutler robbed in Charleston jail 70 Sutler's prices at Columbia 76 Surgeons at Andersonville 290 Surgeons, rebel, at Chickamauga 158 Surgeon, a Union, at Chickamauga 162 Swamps, hiding in 80 Swamps, going through 311, 327 Teamsters, rebel 26 Tennessee prisoners at Andersonville 234 Tennessee rebel colonel 155 Texas Rangers, sympathy of 97 Tent wreckers 72 Thompson, Dr., rebel surgeon 290 Thompson, Surgeon J. H., report of 382 Thornburg, Dr., rebel surgeon 290 Thorp, Lieutenant-Colonel T. J 56 Tobacco in Smith prison 185 Todd, Captain, displaying flag 49 Tracy, Major Wm. E.., return of stores 458 Train, lead horse 9 Trade at A ndersonville. 251 Transportation, railway, in Confederacy 37, 410 Treatment captured negroes at Richmond 29 Treatment at time of capture 408 Treatment, arrival at prison 410 Trees, live oak, at Savannah 61 Troops passing through Richmond 35 Tunneling and tunnels 63 Tunneling at Andersonville 275 Tunneling at Danville 206 Turbane, Lieutenant, murdered at Columbia 83 Turner, Major Dick 174 Union men in the South 87 Utensils, cooking 234 Vaccination at Andersonville 283 Vance, Governor, communication of 460 Vaughn, Captain, fired upon 36 Vegetables and grain in the South 457 Ventilating cars 61 Vote on presidential candidates 95^ 366 Index. 571 Wade, Hon. B. F., on retaliation 93 Walker, Dr. Jlaiy 29 Wash, Captain W. A., prison life 135 Water, lack of, at Coim.'.bia 78 Water at Cahuba prison 425 Water, craving of wounded for 157 Water, deficiency of, at Danville 198 Water, deficiency of, at Salisbury 433 Water supply at Andersonville 256 Water pollution at Belle Isle 432 Water pollution at Salisbury 433 Water, scant supply of, at Charleston 67 Watermelons at Augusta 171 Watkins, Dr., rebel surgeon 290 Well, old, at Savannah 64 Wells at Salisbury 433 Whittemore, Lieutenant C. H., report of 379 White, Colonel, 55th Penn. Inf 38 White, Surgeon I. H., report of 481 Wickham, General 27 Wilderness, battle of 6 Williams, Lieutenant, escape from Columbia jail 90 Williams, Dr., rebel surgeon 290 Wilson, General J. H., return of stores 459 Wilson, W. A., recommendations of 405 Winder, General J. H 303, 464 Winder, Captain W. S 221, 464 Windows, prison, unapproachable 196, 419 Wirz, Captain H 304 Women at Andersonville 268 Wood, general supply to prisoners 435 Wood at Andersonville 435 Wood at Columbia 78 AVood at Charleston 68 Wood at Salisbury 435 Work, offers of 366 Workers, the Yankees as 84, 208 Wounded at Chickamauga 155 Yard, jail, at Charleston 68 Yountr, Lieutenant A., shot at Columbia 82