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 THE JAMES VERNER SCAIFE 
 
 COLLECTION 
 
 CIVIL WAR LITERATURE 
 
 THE GIFT OF 
 
 JAMES VERNER SCAIFE 
 
 CLASS OF 18B9 
 
 1919 
 
CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 
 3 1924 095 623 504 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tliis book is in 
 tlie Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924095623504 
 
Major Henry Wirz 
 
 FROMTISPIECB 
 
THE TRUE STORY OF ANDERSON- 
 VILLE PRISON 
 
 A DEFENSE OF MAJOR HENRY WIRZ 
 
m 
 
THE TRUE STORY OF ANDER- 
 SONVILLE PRISON 
 
 A DEFENSE OF MAJOR HENRY WIRZ 
 
 By 
 
 JAMES MADISON PAGE 
 Late 2d Lieut. Company A, Sixth Michigan Cavalry 
 
 In Collaboration With 
 M. J. HALEY 
 
 With Portraits 
 
 New York and Washington 
 
 THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 1908 
 
Copyright, 1908, by 
 The Neale Publishing Company 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PART I 
 
 Andersonville : The Prisoners and Their Keeper 
 
 Chapter I. My First Soldiering 15-24 
 
 My hotne and parents — my enlistment — I be- 
 come a commissary-sergeant — We go after 
 Mosby — A matter of gallantry. 
 
 Chapter II. A Sprint and a Capture 25-40 
 
 Under the first fire — Snicker's Gap — ^The battle 
 of Falling Waters — We attack Hill's corps — A 
 good run — ^Taken prisoner. 
 
 Chapter III. A Prisoner at Belle Isle 41-52 
 
 Talk of immediate exchange — Eleven com- 
 rades — My illness — One red apple — "Market 
 street" — ^Billy Bowles's Christmas bill of fare. 
 
 Chapter IV. From Belle Isle to Andersonville 53-68 
 
 The attitude of our jailors — ^We reach Ander- 
 sonville — ^The camp and the stockade — ^The 
 site of the famous prison — "The knitting 
 women." 
 
 Chapter V. Daily Life at Andersonville 69-84 
 
 Building our cabin — 'Xht Twenty-fifth Ala- 
 bama — A box from home — ^A cake of soap — 
 Winder takes command of Andersonville — I 
 meet Captain Wirz — His willingness to help 
 the prisoners. 
 
Contents 
 
 Chapter VI. The Dead-Line and the Death of 
 
 "Poll Parrot" 85-98 
 
 Our cabin in danger — Captain Wirz's kind- 
 ness — ^The "poisoned vaccine" — We build a 
 tunnel — "Poll Parrot" is suspected of being a 
 traitor — ^The duty of a sentry. 
 
 Chapter VII. The Stanton Policy 99-109 
 
 Religious services — Captain Wirz makes corn 
 beer — No exchange — Despair — Secretary Stan- 
 ton's theory of war. 
 
 Chapter VIII. Execution of the Raiders 110-135 
 
 The raiders at work — Captain Wirz aids the 
 prisoners — ^The execution of six of the raiders. 
 
 Chapter IX. The Mass Meeting of July Twentieth 126-139 
 An over-crowded camp — Captain Wirz's sym- 
 pathy with the prisoners — A meeting to urge 
 exchange — ^The resolutions and the committee — 
 "Little Red Cap" — ^Wirz and the drummer- 
 boys — ^Wirz pleads for better rations for the 
 prisoners. 
 
 Chapter X. The Fate of a Traitor 140-146 
 
 A freshwater spring — Another tunnel — Another 
 discovery — The man who told. 
 
 Chapter XI. That Terrible August 147-163 
 
 Absence of Captain Wirz on a furlough — ^The 
 death rate — Corn beer, a health beverage — ^The 
 results of a false war policy. 
 
 Chapter XII. Billy Bowles Gives a Dinner in Balti- 
 more 164-180 
 
 Leaving Andersonville — ^Two out of eleven — 
 Millen prison — ^I become a shoemaker — My 
 new clothes — ^The stars and stripes — "WJiat 
 beasts men are!" — At Baltimore — ^Two out of 
 eleven — "Turn down an empty glass." 
 
Contents 
 
 PART II 
 
 Henry Wirz: The Man and His Trial. 
 
 Chapter I. The Facts of Wirz's Life 183-189 
 
 His parentage and education — His career as a 
 soldier — His foreign mission — ^The last dinner 
 with his family — ^The arrest and journey to 
 Washington. 
 
 Chapter II. The Accusation Against Wirz 190-204 
 
 Special military commission — ^The specifica- 
 tions — ^The prisoner's plea. 
 
 Chapter III. The Trial 205-216 
 
 The banner witness, Felix de la Baume — ^Wirz 
 in the court-room — ^The charge of. "con- 
 spiracy" — ^The findings of the commission — ^The 
 sentence. 
 
 Chapter IV. The Last Days of Wirz's Life 217-233 
 
 He is visited by Father Boyle — ^The news- 
 paper gossip^Father Boyle's letter to Jefferson 
 Davis — An extract from the Confederate Vet- 
 eran — ^Wirz's letter to Attorney Schade — ^Wirz's 
 letter to President Johnson — ^The Ne<w York 
 Nenes correspondence — ^The execution. 
 
 Chapter V. WiRZ's Attorney's Final Word 234-242 
 
 Attorney Schade's letter to the American pub- 
 lic — "A friendless and forsaken man" — "We 
 cannot escape history." 
 
 Chapter VI. The Great War Secretary .243-248 
 
 The Character of Stanton — Conclusion — "One 
 people, one country, one flag." 
 
PREFACE 
 
 During the past forty years I have read a num- 
 ber of stories of Andersonville Prison and of 
 Major Wirz, who had subordinate charge of the 
 prisoners there. Nearly all these histories were 
 written by comrades who were confined there as 
 prisoners of war. I do not propose in this work 
 to question the accuracy of their portrayal of the 
 great suffering, privations, and of the mortality of 
 prisoners of war in Andersonville, for these are 
 matters of fact that any one who was confined 
 there can readily corroborate and can never forget. 
 But it has been painful to me since the day I 
 marched from that dismal prison pen, September 
 20, 1864, to the present time, that my comrades 
 who suffered there and who have written their ex- 
 periences are to a man wild in their charges that 
 Major Wirz was responsible and that he was the 
 sole cause of the suffering and mortality endured 
 at Andersonville. 
 
 I have finally concluded to write something of 
 my experiences in Southern prisons during the 
 Civil War, not in a spirit of controversy, but in 
 the interest of truth and fair play. 
 
 I was a prisoner in different places in the South 
 
10 Preface 
 
 from September 21, 1863, till November 21, 
 1864, seven months of which I was at Anderson- 
 villa. 
 
 The story of Andersonville has been already too 
 often written for the mutual welfare of North and 
 South, for the story as written has tended to in- 
 crease the friction between the two great sections 
 of our country. This is to be deplored, since every 
 lover of his country desires, to the extent of his 
 power, to allay all sectional bitterness. 
 
 The main purpose of the writer of this book is 
 to reduce the friction between the two sections op- 
 posed to each other in the Civil War, and es- 
 pecially that caused by the exaggerated and often 
 unjust reports of Major Wirz's cruelty and inhu- 
 manity to the Union prisoners, reports through- 
 out the North at least, which have been repre- 
 sented to be gratuitous and wilful. 
 
 I am writing, not for the purpose of contradict- 
 ing any comrade who has written before me, but 
 to take a like liberty and to tell the story again 
 from the standpoint of my own personal expe- 
 rience. 
 
 Taps will soon sound for us all who passed 
 through those experiences, and I am sure that I 
 shall feel better satisfied, as I pass down to the val- 
 ley of death, if I say what I can truthfully say in 
 defense of the man who befriended me when I was 
 in the greatest extremity, and when there was no 
 other recourse. 
 
 At the close of the war the feeling was so in- 
 
Preface 1 1 
 
 tense in the North on account of the suffering and 
 mortality among the prisoners of war at Ander- 
 sonville that something had to be done tO' satisfy 
 the popular demand for the punishment of those 
 supposed to be responsible for that suffering and 
 the loss of life among the prisoners, and Major 
 Wirz was doomed, before he was tried, as the 
 party responsible for these results. 
 
 In my prison life of seven months at Anderson- 
 ville I became well acquainted with Major Wirz, 
 or Captain Wirz, as he then ranked, and as he will 
 hereafter be designated. 
 
 The knowledge I gained of his character dur- 
 ing this personal acquaintance leads me to disagree 
 with the conclusions reached by other writers as to 
 the true character of this unfortunate man. Dur- 
 ing all these years it has been a matter of surprise 
 to me that writers like Richardson, Spencer, Ur- 
 ban, and others failed to take into consideration 
 
12 Preface 
 
 Captain Wirz was unjustly held responsible for the 
 hardship and mortality of Andersonville, but that 
 the Federal authorities must share the blame for 
 these things with the Confederate, since they well 
 knew the inability of the Confederates to meet the 
 reasonable wants of their prisoners of war, as they 
 lacked a supply of their own needs, and since the 
 Federal authorities failed to exercise a humane 
 policy in the exchange of those captured in battle. 
 The reader may expect in this account only the 
 plain, unvarnished tale of a soldier. The writer, 
 "with malice toward none and charity for all," 
 denies conscious prejudice, and makes the sincere 
 endeavor to put himself in the other fellow's place 
 and make such a statement of the matter in hand 
 as will satisfy all lovers of truth and justice. 
 
PART I 
 
 ANDERSONVILLE: THE PRISONERS 
 AND THEIR KEEPER 
 
W. J. w. Kerr, M. D. 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 MY FIRST SOLDIERING 
 
 I was born in Crawford County, Pennsylvania, 
 July 22, 1839, the youngest of the five children of 
 Wallace and Nancy Bonney Page. My parents 
 were natives of Massachusetts, the former born in 
 1 8 10 and the latter in 18 16, and they were mar- 
 ried on April 18, 1832, at Ellington, Chautauqua 
 County, New York. My father's paternal grand- 
 father was a soldier in the War of the Revolution, 
 and the maternal grandfather of my mother was 
 a soldier at the same time. Both were "Conti- 
 nentals" in the "Massachusetts Line," and both 
 were honorably mustered out of service, a matter 
 that has been a source of pardonable pride to their 
 descendants. 
 
 The reader will pardon me for intruding these 
 facts and also some succeeding ones relating to my 
 ancestors and their descendants, but my purpose 
 is to show how thoroughly "Yankee" I am in an- 
 cestry, birth, education, and environment. I hever 
 was as far south as Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, until 
 I was a Union soldier on my way South. 
 
 My parents had five children : Elvira, Wallace 
 Robert, Elmina, Rodney Walter, and myself, I 
 being the youngest. We are all living, and have 
 
1 6 My First Soldiering 
 
 been for years residents of Pageville, Madison 
 County, Montana. 
 
 In 1840 my father died when I was but one 
 year old, and when I was thirteen my good mother 
 died. 
 
 Soon after my father's death we removed to 
 Michigan, where I received a good common 
 school education and later I took a course at East- 
 man's business college at Chicago. I had a keen 
 taste for mathematics, and would at any time much 
 rather encounter the most difficult problem in trig- 
 onometry than place myself between the handles of 
 a plow. 
 
 When the war broke out in 1861 I was engaged 
 in extending the public surveys in northwestern 
 Minnesota, east of the now flourishing city of 
 Morehead. At that time that portion of our 
 Uncle-Samuel-land was "way out west," and as 
 the region was sparsely settled I was very busy. 
 My calling was a lucrative one, and being far 
 from "the bustling throng and the busy haunts of 
 men" I scarcely heard anything about the "im- 
 pending conflict." 
 
 I was incredulous relative to the threatened 
 "clash of arms." I had been so surfeited with 
 the Inflammatory war talk emanating from both 
 North and South that I was disgusted. I regarded 
 almost anything more likely to happen than actual 
 war between the two great sections of our coun- 
 try. 
 
 As late as 1861 I little thought that the greatest 
 
My First Soldiering 17 
 
 war of history was to deluge our country with 
 blood. Little did I think there would be calls by 
 President Lincoln for soldiers ranging from 300,- 
 000 to 500,000 each, and little did I think that 
 rivers of blood would flow through our land and 
 that half the homes, both North and South, would 
 be in mourning ere the great strife would cease. 
 
 I gave the matter little thought until the great 
 disaster that befell the Federal forces under Gen- 
 eral McDowell at the first battle of Bull Run on 
 July 21, 1 86 1. It could plainly be seen then that 
 a gigantic struggle was at hand. 
 
 I was twenty-three when I enlisted in Company 
 A, Sixth Regiment Michigan Cavalry, on August 
 14, 1862, at Grand Rapids, Mich., and was mus- 
 tered into service August 28, 1862. 
 
 On December 10 the regiment proceeded to 
 Washington, D. C, and went into camp on Me- 
 ridian Hill between Seventh and Fourteenth 
 streets. Our regiment was brigaded with the 
 Fifth and Seventh Michigan Cavalry, and was at- 
 tached to Casey's division of Heintzelman's corps. 
 While at Washington I was promoted to commis- 
 sary-sergeant. 
 
 During the winter of 1862-63 our regiment par- 
 ticipated in several raids into Virginia, in one of 
 which we went to Falmouth, where Burnside's 
 army was encamped. 
 
 In the spring of 1863 the regiment broke camp 
 at Washington and marched to Fairfax Court 
 
1 8 My First Soldiering 
 
 House, and was kept on picket duty till June of 
 that year, Col. Geo. Gray commanding. 
 
 While on this duty the regiment often made 
 raids to the west of Fairfax, outside of our lines, 
 in quest of Colonel Mosby, who was continually 
 disturbing our peace of mind. 
 
 In my official but non-combatant capacity of 
 commissary-sergeant I had boyish, vague dreams 
 of capturing Mosby myself, and single-handed. I 
 could not think of anything that would more 
 readily change my chevrons to shoulder-straps. 
 Indeed, to be frank, I confess to a feeling of some 
 importance when I looked down and saw my 
 sleeves decked with commissary-sergeant's stripes, 
 and I felt the stirring of military ambition like that 
 of Napoleon's soldier who always carried a mar- 
 shal's baton in his knapsack that he might be pre- 
 pared to accept sudden promotion. 
 
 After we had become thoroughly conversant 
 with Mosby's dashing tactics we were not half so 
 anxious to capture him, and after forty odd years 
 cogitation I feel satisfied that perhaps it is just as 
 well that we didn't meet him at close range. 
 
 A number of incidents occurred while on these 
 raids that might be interesting, but I'll record only 
 one. 
 
 It was about the first of May, 1863, that Col- 
 onel Gray ordered the regiment ready to march 
 light. Early the next morning we started in the 
 direction of Winchester. It was understood that 
 we were this time really to bag Mosby and his 
 
My First Soldiering ig 
 
 men, and the ambitious commissary-sergeant tem- 
 porarily took leave of his accounts and supplies 
 and rode with the fighting detachment. We picked 
 up two or three of Mosby's "raiders," and toward 
 noon we circled to the left and immediately passed 
 through a small hamlet on the Winchester pike. 
 In the edge of the town the regiment halted and 
 dismounted for noon rest, when Colonel Gray 
 called me and said, "Sergeant, did you notice that 
 large mansion standing well back of a magnificejit 
 lawn, on our right a short distance back?" "Yes, 
 sir." "Well, you take two non-commissioned offi- 
 cers and twelve men, ride back there, station your 
 men around that house and adjacent buildings, and 
 give them instructions to shoot any one attempting 
 to escape that will not halt at a command, and 
 then go through that mansion from cellar to gar- 
 ret and seize anything contraband that you find." 
 
 Of all my duties as a soldier this was the one I 
 most detested. 
 
 I was soon on the ground and had stationed my 
 men. I felt like a trespasser when I approached 
 the door in company with Sergeant Parshall, whom 
 I asked to go with me in case of trouble. (Dick 
 Parshall was afterward one of Custer's best 
 scouts.) When I rang the bell the door was 
 opened by a fine-looking middle-aged woman, who, 
 upon hearing my business, was not slow in convey- 
 ing to me in language of scintillating scorn what 
 she thought of me and the whole Yankee nation. 
 
 In my placid answer to her furious arraignment 
 
20 My First Soldiering 
 
 I said, "Madam, I am very sorry to disturb you 
 and I do not wonder that you are greatly dis- 
 tressed at this action, but I am acting under orders, 
 and if you knew how very disagreeable this task 
 is to me you would deliver to me at once the key 
 to every room in the house and facilitate the en- 
 joined search as much as possible." Thereupon 
 she reluctantly handed me a bunch of keys, and ac- 
 companied us to the third floor, where I made 
 short work of my search and returned to the sec- 
 ond floor. In the second room I entered I found 
 three women, an unlooked-for find, and after a 
 hasty search of the apartment I excused myself as 
 gracefully as I could and retreated in good order. 
 
 Passing to another room on the same floor I 
 was surprised anew to find five ladies, as uncon- 
 cerned as though taking an afternoon tea and in- 
 dulging in gossip. 
 
 My curiosity was piqued. It was not probable 
 that these women all belonged to one household. 
 What common purpose, I queried, had drawn 
 them together? 
 
 I retreated again, and soon reached what 
 seemed to be a front-room parlor on the same floor. 
 The room was large, and well filled with some fif- 
 teen or twenty women. As soon as I recovered 
 from this, another shock of surprise, I said, "La- 
 dies, I ask your pardon. I was not aware that 
 there was a convention of women assembled here 
 to-day, or I should have suffered arrest sooner 
 than to have disturbed you." They did not seem 
 
My First Soldiering 21 
 
 to be in a humor to accept my apology, and the 
 lady of the house, who was with me from the first, 
 was joined by others of her pronounced opinions, 
 and from this group of representative women I 
 learned some things about myself and the Yankee 
 army that I never knew before. 
 
 The sense of gallantry again overcame me, and 
 I fell back before a superior force and was glad 
 to retire from the unequal conflict. 
 
 I completed my search of the lower floor of the 
 house as rapidly as possible. When I reached the 
 front door, in taking my leave of the premises I 
 handed the keys back to the mistress of the man- 
 sion and said, "Madam, I am very sorry that in 
 obeying orders I have been the cause of so much 
 annoyance to you, especially considering the un- 
 usual condition of your household." 
 
 I was about to bid her a respectful adieu, when 
 I noticed a door at my right leading into a room 
 some twelve by fifteen feet enclosing a portion of 
 the porch. It had the appearance of having been 
 built for a special secret purpose. Of course my 
 duty required me to examine this room, and on 
 finding it locked I asked for the key. 
 
 I shall never forget the look of consternation 
 on the mistress's face upon my making this de- 
 mand. This spirited woman, who during this 
 short interview had steadily manifested a spirit of 
 proud defiance, expressed in her entire disparage- 
 ment of the Yankee army and myself In particu- 
 lar, was now overcome with apprehension and 
 
22 My First Soldiering 
 
 alarm, which were manifest in her suddenly 
 changed bearing. 
 
 She very reluctantly handed me the keys and 
 turned away. During this time Parshall had gone 
 to the opposite end of the porch and was talking to 
 the guard. I finally unlocked the door, feeling 
 sure that I should find some of Mosby's men, and, 
 revolver in hand, I was prepared to meet them. 
 What met my gaze was the climax of the day's sur- 
 prises and explained those before encountered. 
 
 The room was filled to the height of six feet or 
 more with choice articles of food, such as baked 
 turkey, chicken, hams, bread, pastry and the like, 
 disposed tastefully in tiers, one above another. 
 
 For a brief moment I wistfully surveyed this 
 tempting array of choice food, so powerful in its 
 appeal to a soldier's usually ravenous appetite. 
 But as I reflected upon the choice treat prepared 
 at great pains by the women, and upon the disap- 
 pointment that would result from not being al- 
 lowed to serve it, and hearing Parshall returning, 
 I hastily locked the door and handed the key to 
 the madam, who meanwhile had been anxiously 
 watching me. I now bade her good-by, and 
 signaled the guards to withdraw, and started down 
 the walk. Almost immediately she was by my side, 
 and said in a trembling voice, "I owe you an 
 apology. I have often said there was not a gentle- 
 man in the Yankee army, but I must except one. 
 You have placed me, with my neighbors and 
 friends, many of whom you have just seen, under 
 
My First Soldiering 22 
 
 great obligation. My heart sank when you insisted 
 on going into that room. I fully expected you and 
 your men would despoil us of the necessary food, 
 prepared at great pains from our meagre resources. 
 Imagine then my surprise when you locked the 
 door so hastily for fear your comrade would see 
 the contents of the room." 
 
 "Madam," I replied, "I thank you for your 
 kind words, but I have only done my duty as I 
 understand it. I am not in the army to increase 
 the hardships of defenseless women. I assure you 
 that I would gladly protect every one of them from 
 the unnecessary hardships of this unfortunate 
 strife. Their suffering is great — greater indeed 
 than that of the men at the front, and is likely to 
 increase as the war goes on." 
 
 This was a noble type of a Southern woman. 
 She was particular to take my name, my company, 
 and regiment, with the probable intent of making 
 a definite record of this treatment, which she was 
 pleased to regard as magnanimous. Months after- 
 ward, when suffering from hunger in Libby Prison 
 and Belle Isle, I wished that I had taken her ad- 
 dress, so that I might have sent to her for a loaf 
 of bread or half a chicken such as I saw in her 
 home once, for I believe it would have been forth- 
 coming had it been in her power. 
 
 She gave me a cordial hand shake and a "God 
 bless you" when we parted, which touched me 
 deeply. 
 
 After joining my company and making my re- 
 
24 My First Soldiering 
 
 port to the Colonel, an irrepressible curiosity on 
 the part of Dick Parshall prompted him to inquire 
 about some of the late proceedings of this incident 
 that were mysterious to him. For instance, he 
 asked, "What in thunder did you and the madam 
 find to talk about so long? I began tO' fear that 
 she had captured you." "She did," I answered. 
 "Well, how did it happen?" he rejoined. "She 
 appeared to take to you at the last to beat all. 
 How did you manage it?" "By treating her and 
 her friends as you and I would like to have our 
 mothers and sisters treated under like circum- 
 stances," I replied. Again Dick broke out, "Say, 
 old man, what did you find in that room on the 
 porch? I was about to take a peep in there when 
 you so suddenly closed and locked the door." "I 
 will tell you some time, Dick, but not now," I re^ 
 plied. 
 
 After several days I let out the secret, and the 
 boys laid it up against me as a special grievance 
 that I did not give them the tip ; for besides enjoy- 
 ing a luscious feast themselves, it would have been 
 a good joke to beat Mosby and his men out of it. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 A SPRINT AND A CAPTURE 
 
 Our regiment moved from Fairfax Court House 
 on June 25, 1863, and when Hooker's army began 
 its movement to intercept Lee, Stahl's division of 
 cavalry was made a part of the Army of the 
 Potomac at Edward's Ferry. 
 
 Kilpatrick succeeded Stahl in the command of 
 the cavalry division and Col. Geo. A. Custer was 
 promoted to the rank of brigadier-general from 
 the rank of captain on Pleasanton's staff, and took 
 Copeland's place in command of the Michigan 
 Brigade, consisting of the First, Fifth, Sixth and 
 Seventh Michigan Cavalry regiments. General 
 Custer was first seen by us at the battle of Han- 
 over, Pennsylvania, June 30, 1863, which was the 
 first time that the Sixth, our regiment, was under 
 fire, except on the skirmish line at long range. At 
 the battle of Gettysburg General Custer ordered 
 Captain Thompson, of my company, to charge 
 Gen. Wade Hampto'n's cavalry in a narrow lane 
 on the eve of July 2, the second day of the fight. 
 
 A most desperate hand-to-hand conflict ensued. 
 We went into this charge 77 men, rank and file, 
 and next morning my company could rally but 26. 
 In less than one-half hour we lost in killed, 
 wounded, and captured, 5 1 men. Captain Thomp- 
 
26 A Sprint and a Capture 
 
 son was wounded, and S. H. Ballard, our second 
 lieutenant, whose horse was shot under him, was 
 captured, and remained a prisoner to the close of 
 the war. I received a slight saber cut on the head, 
 but, strange as it may seem, I knew nothing about 
 it until the next morning, when on being awakened 
 from a few hours' sleep I felt a peculiar smarting 
 sensation on my head and found my hair matted 
 with blood. A thorough washing revealed a slight 
 cut on the top of my head, a wound about two 
 Inches long and only deep enough to draw blood. 
 During "piping times of peace" at home It would 
 have been considered quite a wound and I would 
 have had the neighbors taking turns to look at it; 
 but on the field of Gettysburg I would be laughed 
 at for my pains if I showed it to any one, and I 
 don't remember of any one knowing anything 
 about It but myself. However, under the burning 
 sun of that 3d of July It bothered me considerably, 
 but I did not report it to the surgeons. We were 
 too busy fighting the "Johnnies." 
 
 On July 4, at 10 a. ra., our division being in ad- 
 vance, we marched from the sanguinary field of 
 Gettysburg to Intercept the enemy, who was re- 
 treating along the South Mountain road toward 
 Wllliamsport. We marched by way of Emmetts- 
 burg up the road to Monterey, a small place as it 
 appeared at night on the top of South Mountain 
 range. On the 5th of July we had some skirmish- 
 ing with the enemy's cavalry, and encamped that 
 night at Boonsboro, Maryland. 
 
A Sprint and a Capture 27 
 
 On the 8th our regiment had an engagement 
 with the enemy's cavalry on the Hagerstown road 
 near Boonsboro, and three of our company were 
 wounded. We were also engaged July 11, 12, 14, 
 20 and 24. 
 
 On July 14 our regiment was sharply engaged 
 at the battle of Falling Waters, and had a number 
 killed and wounded. Among the killed of the 
 Sixth Michigan Cavalry were Capt. David G. 
 Boyce and Maj. Peter A. Webber. I may be 
 pardoned, perhaps, in quoting what was said about 
 our brigade at this battle, and particularly of the 
 Sixth Michigan Cavalry, of which I was a mem- 
 ber. The New York Herald contained the fol- 
 lowing : 
 
 "Hearing that a force had marched toward 
 Falling Waters, General Kilpatrick ordered an 
 advance to that place. Through some mistake, 
 only one brigade, that of General Custer, obeyed 
 the order. When within less than a mile of Fall- 
 ing Water the enemy was found in great numbers 
 and strongly entrenched behind a dozen crescent- 
 shaped earthworks. The Sixth Michigan Cavalry 
 was in advance. They did not wait for orders, but 
 one squadron. Companies C and D, under Captain 
 Boyce (who was killed), with Companies B and 
 F, led by Major Webber (who was killed), 
 made the charge, capturing the works and de- 
 fenders. It was a fearful struggle, the rebels 
 fighting like demons. Of the no men engaged 
 
28 A Sprint and a Captnre 
 
 on our side, but 30 escaped uninjured. This is 
 cavalry fighting, the superior of which the world 
 never saw." 
 
 On this campaign our regiment had a strenuous 
 time of it. For seventeen days and nights we did 
 hot unsaddle our horses except to readjust the 
 saddle-blankets. 
 
 The next trouble we had was when we crossed 
 the Potomac into Virginia in the rear of Lee's 
 army and encountered Stuart's cavalry at Snicker's 
 Gap, on July 19. The charge was simultaneous 
 and I came near "passing in my checks," for I 
 was knocked from my horse in the charge and was 
 run over by half our regiment. I was stunned and 
 badly bruised, but not cut. When I came to I was 
 glad to find that my sore head was still on my 
 shoulders. I was soon mounted, and our regiment 
 went into camp. 
 
 We remained there next day awaiting rations, 
 and, while riding from the quartermaster's tent to 
 my company, I crossed a field that was overgrown 
 with weeds and briers and ran against a gray 
 granite slab. I dismounted, and pulling the briers 
 aside, I saw that it was a gravestone. The inscrip- 
 tion stated the man's name and age, which I have 
 forgotten; the date of his death at an advanced 
 age, in 1786, and concluded with this quaint in- 
 scription : 
 
A Sprint and a Capture 29 
 
 "Man, as you are passing by, 
 As you are now, so once was I; 
 As I am now, so you must be; 
 Turn to God and follow me." 
 
 This affected me deeply. The thought occurred to 
 me that when in life (for he died but three years 
 after the Revolution) how little he expected that 
 the time would come when his beautiful domain 
 and his bright sunny Southland would be devas- 
 tated and laid waste by an invading army of his 
 own countrymen ! 
 
 From June 30 to September 21, 1863, our regi- 
 ment participated in seventeen skirmishes and 
 battles. On September 14, at Culpeper Court 
 House, General Custer was wounded and the com- 
 mand of the brigade devolved upon Colonel 
 Sawyer of the First Vermont Cavalry, which was 
 brigaded with us at the time. 
 
 On taking command Sawyer seemed to think 
 that the war had been going on long enough, and 
 he decided to end it at once. Like Pope, his 
 headquarters were in the saddle. "Up and at 
 them" was his motto. He wasn't, as yet, even 
 a brigadier by brevet, but visions of the lone star 
 on his shoulders, I presume, took possession of 
 him. "Dismount and fight on foot!" was the 
 ringing order from the Colonel on September 21, 
 at Liberty Mills, on the Rapidan, and, as had 
 been my habit, I snapped my horse to a set of 
 fours of led horses, and borrowing the gun and 
 cartridge-box of the soldier in charge of the 
 horses, I joined my company commanded by 
 
30 A Sprint and a Capture 
 
 Capt. M. D. Birge. We crossed the bridge and 
 deployed in a cornfield on the left of the road. I 
 was on the extreme left, and paid very little at- 
 tention to the regular line, as I was an independ- 
 ent skirmisher; but as soon as I found that more 
 than twenty of us were separated from the line by 
 drifting into an open ravine for better protection, 
 I was a trifle tamer than when I started out a half 
 hour previous. On the right the com was cut and 
 stood in shocks, and while the line advanced up 
 the ravine I ascended the ridge, keeping under 
 cover as well as I could behind the com shocks. 
 When I reached the top of the elevation I was 
 completely staggered to see several hundred 
 mounted Confederates advancing toward us, 
 platoon front, as if on parade. There was no time 
 to lose, for the lead was crashing through the 
 shock that I was behind, at a fearful rate, and 
 how I escaped with only a rip in my blouse near 
 my left elbow is more than I shall ever know. I 
 had possibly three hundred yards to run to reach 
 the boys, now under command of Lieutenant 
 Hoyt. I safely got where they were without be- 
 ing hit, but the time I made in doing so would 
 have been creditable to the fleetest jack-rabbit. 
 
 I reported the danger we were in. All this 
 time a mounted staff-officer a few hundred yards 
 back of us was shouting himself hoarse, "Ad- 
 vance, men, advance!" "I cannot fall back when 
 ordered to advance," said Hoyt. "Lieutenant, 
 if you do not we are lost," was my reply. The 
 
A Sprint and a Capture ^x 
 
 soldier will at once realize the embarrassment of 
 my position in advising a retreat. It savors so 
 much of the "white feather." It is always well 
 enough for the inferior to advise a forward move- 
 ment, even though the superior ignores the advice, 
 but it is a ticklish thing to advise retreat — even 
 the word "retreat" is dangerous. I knew the 
 danger, because I saw it. The ground was undu- 
 lating, and neither Lieutenant Hoyt nor the fran- 
 tic staff-officer could see the advancing body of 
 Confederates. "We will be surrounded and 
 scooped up in less than five minutes," said I. "I 
 cannot help it," replied Hoyt, "I must obey or- 
 ders. Forward!" 
 
 We advanced perhaps a dozen rods, when the 
 enemy was upon us. A Minie ball struck Hoyt in 
 the shoulder and he was down. The charge fol- 
 lowed. We received no more bellowing orders 
 from the elegantly attired staff-officer. He at 
 once adopted Falstaff's advice about "discretion 
 being the better part of valor," and the skirts of 
 his beautiful dress-coat would have made tails for 
 a kite. The speed with which he reached a safe 
 rear was of the fleetest. I can imagine his report 
 to Colonel Sawyer, commanding brigade. It ran 
 something like this: "They were captured because 
 they did not obey my orders. I remained as long 
 as possible, but was obliged to fall back." 
 
 I tried to get Hoyt away, but he was so badly 
 hurt that he begged to be left on the field. I then 
 gave orders to our men to fall back as quickly as 
 
32 A Sprint and a Capture 
 
 possible to the river. We all started on the run 
 down the ravine. I certainly out-ran them, for I 
 was the only one that reached the stream. I was 
 pretty fleet of foot myself in those days. The 
 Confederates were busy picking up our boys, and 
 I think for a moment they lost sight of me. I 
 crossed the river and hid in the tall grass, and 
 from where I lay I could see our boys being 
 marched up the hill through the cornfield under 
 guard. 
 
 While I do not know it for certain, yet I am, 
 and always have been, satisfied that at about the 
 time Lieutenant Hoyt was hit the Confederate of- 
 ficer in command gave the order to cease firing. 
 Our miserable little handful of men was as good 
 as captured at any time after the Confederate ad- 
 vance had reached the brow of the hill, and here 
 is a marked refutation of the oft-repeated "need- 
 less rebel cruelty." We were engaged in an open 
 fight, and they could have wiped us off the face of 
 the earth at any time after getting over the hill, 
 for they were upon us. I was repeatedly ordered 
 to halt after getting 300 or 400 feet start, and 
 could easily have been shot down before I reached 
 the river; but I didn't have time to halt or to obey 
 orders. According to all the rules of war they 
 were perfectly justified in killing me when I failed 
 to stop. 
 
 This magnanimous trait is particularly conspicu- 
 ous in the Southern soldier. He will fight, day or 
 night, against superior odds, but on the other hand, 
 
A Sprint and a Capture o^ 
 
 when the advantage is greatly in his favor, he 
 views the situation in altogether a different light. 
 It seems as if the spirit of magnanimity overcomes 
 him. 
 
 It always was, always has been, and always 
 will be a matter of profound wonderment why 
 Beauregard and Johnston did not march upon 
 Washington during the night of July 21-22, 
 1 86 1. All that they had to do was to reach out 
 and take the city. 
 
 But the Southerners did not have a monopoly 
 altogether in chivalrous conduct toward the de- 
 feated. When Pickett made that awful charge 
 on the Union lines at Gettysburg, and when his 
 brave men were being mown down, falling, waver- 
 ing, and about to fall back, knowing that they had 
 , failed, a young beardless Confederate color- 
 bearer, in advance of the line, looking to the right 
 and left and seeing his comrades reeling, drop- 
 ping, and wavering, deliberately raised the colors 
 high in the air and jabbed the staff into the 
 ground. He stepped back a pace or two, straight- 
 ened himself like an adjutant on parade, and 
 seemed to say, "I think that I might as well die 
 here," and folded his arms. The smoke cleared 
 away. Firing had not ceased however. "Don't 
 kill that boy! Don't fire at that boy I" yelled 
 Col. P. P. Brown, of the One Hundred and Fifty- 
 seventh New York Regiment. 
 
 The young hero was not 150 feet from the 
 
34 A Sprint and a Capture 
 
 Union line. His look of despair gave place to a 
 smile. He put his hand to his cap in salute and 
 the Union men cheered. Taking the colors he 
 turned about and slowly followed his brave com- 
 rades. Not a solitary one of Pickett's heroes was 
 behind him except the dead and dying. 
 
 It is recorded as an act of extraordinary brav- 
 ery, that when Napoleon was making his disas- 
 trous retreat from Moscow, one day, when closely 
 beset, Marshal Ney, who commanded the rear, 
 ordered a captain to remain with his company and 
 to protect the rear of the rear-guard. "How long 
 will I remain?" inquired the captain, realizing 
 the utter hopelessness of the position. "Until 
 you are killed!" was the answer. "Very well, 
 sir." The captain never was heard of after. He 
 was not a whit braver than the young Confederate 
 color-sergeant. 
 
 Well, there I lay, concealed in the grass, con- 
 gratulating myself upon my lucky escape and won- 
 dering how it happened. Although slighted by 
 Mars, the god of war, I had been greatly favored 
 by Mercury, the speedy one. It looked as if he 
 had a wing over me. 
 
 I fully expected our cavalry to advance in force, 
 and I thought that if I could manage to conceal 
 myself for a little while I would soon be among 
 ray friends. But in this I was doomed to disap- 
 pointment, for instead of the main body of our 
 force putting in an appearance, a troop of Confed- 
 erate cavalry crossed the river to bait their horses 
 
A Sprint and a Capture oe 
 
 about where I lay, and to prepare their supper. 
 A horse shied and snorted, and I was discovered 
 and made a prisoner by a squad of the Fifth Vir- 
 ginia Cavalry. 
 
 "Why didn't you keep a-runnin'?" laughingly 
 inquired a corporal in gray. He had seen me 
 while I was sprinting riverward. 
 
 I had parched corn for supper. It was the best 
 that my captors had, there was that consolation in 
 it. While the rations were meager, our captors 
 fared no better. I was kept under guard and 
 treated with the utmost consideration. With the 
 exception of that pleasant laughing "Why didn't 
 you keep a-runnin'?" I didn't hear an insulting 
 remark from those men. 
 
 Next morning I received an extra ear of 
 parched corn, and was taken to the headquarters 
 of Gen. A. P. Hill, guarded by four men in gray. 
 The General asked me a number of questions, and 
 his manner was so mild and genial that I began 
 to think that it wasn't such a dreadful thing to be 
 a prisoner. 
 
 I was then turned over to the provost marshal, 
 and I learned that Colonel Sawyer had, in sending 
 twenty-four of us in advance, actually attacked 
 Gen. A. P. Hill's corps of 10,000 men. The 
 great Southern general was very much amused 
 over the incident, but for my humble part I could 
 absolutely see nothing funny about it. I didn't 
 enjoy it a particle. 
 
 I found myself in a camp of sixty-five or seventy 
 
36 A Sprint and a Capture 
 
 men under a strong guard. They were nearly all 
 Confederate soldiers under arrest for desertion, 
 and were waiting for their turn to be court-mar- 
 tialed. From twelve to fifteen were tried each 
 week, and those found guilty were shot on Satur- 
 days. There were nine poor fellows who had 
 been tried and found guilty. These men were 
 confined in an adjacent camp. I do not think 
 there was a time from Tuesday, the day I reached 
 there, until Saturday, when I was sent to Rich- 
 mond, that some of them were not praying and 
 singing, in view of their fate. 
 
 I looked about me, and am ashamed now to 
 confess that it was then with a feeling of regret 
 that I could not discover the doughty staff-officer 
 among us. He took care to make good his es- 
 cape. 
 
 One afternoon a young fellow of about twenty- 
 one years of age was brought back to the camp 
 under guard after being sentenced to death. That 
 same evening he sang "The Bonnie Blue Flag." 
 His tenor voice was pitched at a high key and I 
 never heard a sweeter voice, nor, I might add, a 
 sadder one. Next day he was shot by his own 
 comrades-in-arms. I am naturally sympathetic, 
 and the sentence and death of this young fellow 
 affected me greatly. Afterward I saw men by 
 the hundreds dying about me at Belle Isle and An- 
 dersonville, affecting and -harrowing sights; but 
 as there was no help for it, and as I had perhaps 
 become accustomed to misery, it didn't touch me 
 
A Sprint and a Capture yj 
 
 SO keenly. But there was such an air of abandon- 
 ment and recklessness about the young fellow, and 
 I don't believe that from the time he was sen- 
 tenced until he faced death he thought of uttering 
 a prayer. I can never forget his last words to us, 
 "Good-by, fellows; I am bound for the happy 
 land of Jordan," and he turned toward us and 
 smiled. 
 
 I did not learn what induced him to desert, but 
 it certainly was not cowardice. It was said he 
 was caught making his way to the Union lines. 
 
 Our camp, under guard, was situated in a beau- 
 tiful grove of chestnut timber, and the first night 
 I slept soundly, having had little rest for several 
 preceding nights. Notwithstanding my weariness, 
 I was awakened during the night by some one 
 pushing me as if trying to turn me over. I sat up, 
 and found one of the soldiers wearing the Federal 
 uniform sitting close beside me. I had taken note 
 of him the previous evening. "Am I in your 
 way?" I inquired. "Oh, no," was the answer, 
 "you are not in my way," and I laid down and 
 fell asleep again. When I awoke in the morning 
 I found that the pockets of my blouse and trous- 
 ers were cut across and the contents, consisting of 
 $20 in money, my watch, pocketknife, sundry pa- 
 pers, tobacco, and pipe were gone. I knew at 
 once that it was the young fellow In blue that rob- 
 bed me. • 
 
 There were a number of North Carolina boys 
 in camp, very decent fellows, who were very indig- 
 
38 A Sprint and a Capture 
 
 nant upon seeing my clothing so badly cut. The 
 corporal of the guard asked me whom I suspected, 
 and I told him. He brought the fellow to me, and 
 when I accused him of the theft he denied it with 
 a great show of indignation, and made all man- 
 ner of threats of what he would do to me if I did 
 not at once withdraw the charge. I realized that 
 I was — to borrow an expression of to-day — "up 
 against it," and I was about to drop the matter, 
 when I caught a very broad wink from the cor- 
 poral who was standing behind the fellow, and I 
 saw that I had a friend "at court." "You have 
 every reason to believe," said the corporal, "that 
 this man stole your property?" "Yes, sir," I re- 
 plied. 
 
 About this time the officer of the day appeared 
 on the scene. The corporal spoke to him in an un- 
 dertone, whereupon the officer had the young fel- 
 low searched, but nothing was found on him. 
 "I'll give you twenty minutes," said the officer, 
 "to get those articles and restore them to the pris- 
 oner." Then, instead of further denial, he be- 
 came sullen and refused to move. The officer had 
 his men "buck and gag him," and he was left in 
 that condition for at least two hours. The officer 
 returned and released him, and again ordered him 
 to restore to me my property. "I'd see him and 
 you in hell first!" was the reply. The officer or- 
 dered his men to get a rope and the sergeant se- 
 cured one. "I'll give you five minutes to get the 
 articles," was the order. But the fellow neither 
 
A Sprint and a Capture 35 
 
 moved nor uttered a word. "Sergeant, have a 
 couple of your men string him up," was the next 
 command. They put the rope around his neck 
 and threw the end of it around an overhanging 
 limb. "Haul away !" and he went up six or seven 
 feet. "Lower away!" and he came down and 
 landed on his feet gasping. "Now will you get 
 the property?" said the officer, but he received no 
 reply. I interposed, and begged that the matter 
 be dropped, saying that my loss was nothing com- 
 pared to taking the fellow's life. The officer said 
 he didn't know about that, that unless he was very 
 much mistaken his life was hardly worth saving. 
 "Pull away!" he ordered, and up went the culprit 
 once more. The young fellow must have been sus- 
 pended, dangling, eight or ten seconds before the 
 lieutenant ordered the men to lower him. I be- 
 came frightened, thinking that the lieutenant was 
 really in earnest. He struck the ground as limp as 
 a sack, and when he recovered his speech he said 
 that he would get the articles, and, staggering 
 away, he soon returned with them. He had dug 
 a hole in the ground under where he slept, and 
 after burying the articles had covered the place 
 over with leaves. I thanked the officer for the in- 
 terest he had taken in the matter. 
 
 I relate the incident here to show how fair and 
 honest these men were. I have read much about 
 our prisoners being robbed of money, watches, 
 jewelry, and clothing upon entering Libby, Belle 
 Isle, Andersonville, Salisbury, and other prisons in 
 
40 A. Sprint and a Capture 
 
 the South, but as far as I personally was concerned, 
 I can truthfully testify that neither at Libby, Belle 
 Isle, Ahdersonville, nor Millen, where I was con- 
 fined, were any articles taken from me. I had $20 
 when I entered Libby and Belle Isle, and $30 or 
 $40 of Confederate money when I entered Ander- 
 sonville, and not one penny was taken from me. 
 The Confederate officers and men at Libby and 
 Belle Isle also knew that I had a watch with me, 
 for I made no secret of it. They did not demand 
 it of me, though it was a valuable timepiece. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 A PRISONER AT BELLE ISLE 
 
 On the 25th day of September I was sent to 
 Richmond, arriving there at night, and was soon 
 in Libby Prison among my comrades of the 
 skirmish line who had preceded me a few days. 
 I now learned that Lieutenant Hoyt, after being 
 kindly treated by his captors, had been paroled on 
 account of his wounds and sent to Washington. 
 
 We were at Libby prison only three days, when 
 we were sent under guard to Belle Isle. 
 
 The first prisoners sent to Belle Isle had been 
 supplied with tents, but these were all occupied, 
 and we were compelled to camp on the ground 
 without shelter of any kind and without fire. The 
 evenings, particularly, were cold and we were 
 thinly clad. Some writers have steadfastly as- 
 serted that the Confederate authorities never fur- 
 nished tents or any kind of shelter at Belle Isle. 
 This is a mistake. 
 
 When we reached the island there were about 
 5,000 prisoners, of whom only one-fourth were 
 without shelter. As we entered the camp the 
 other prisoners crowded about us with the usual 
 questions, "What regiment? When were you 
 captured? What news have you? What is the 
 prospect of exchange?" 
 
42 A. Prisoner at Belle Isle 
 
 "Exchange" was the sole topic. It was on every 
 one's lips. It was discussed by the suffering men, 
 to whom "exchange" meant all that they asked for 
 in this world. It meant life, home, mother, wife, 
 sweetheart, friends — everything. 
 
 I found a number of my regiment here, and 
 they had been prisoners a long time. They in- 
 formed me almost immediately that it was under- 
 stood that they were to be exchanged in "a day 
 or two." 
 
 It has been often laid up against the Southern 
 officers and men guarding us as a grievous fault 
 that they continually held out "false hope" of ex- 
 change, well knowing that they absolutely had no 
 grounds for the statements, and that they would 
 say that we were about to be exchanged when there 
 was not the least expectation of it. I thought 
 then and I think still that these were meritorious 
 "white lies," similar to the profanity of my Uncle 
 Toby in "Tristram Shandy," where the Recording 
 Angel, after recording the oath, blotted it out 
 with tears. 
 
 The hope of exchange, though deferred, often 
 prolonged and saved the life of many a prisoner 
 of war, both North and South. It was a well- 
 known fact among prisoners, whether at Ander- 
 sonville or Belle Isle, Rock Island or Elmira, that 
 if once an inmate became discouraged and lost 
 hope he was doomed. Nothing could save him. 
 
 "Yank, you are looking pretty pert this morn- 
 ing," a rebel officer or soldier would say, "so you 
 
A Prisoner at Belle Isle 43 
 
 mustn't get discouraged. Brace up; never say 
 die. You will be exchanged in a few days. I 
 have It straight from headquarters." 
 
 Looking back more than forty years and diag- 
 nosing those "rebel lies," I can find no better rea- 
 son for them than kindness of heart. Others can 
 form any opinion they please, but these are my 
 conclusions. 
 
 The first day I was at Belle Isle a rebel guard 
 gave me a sheet of paper and an envelope, and I 
 wrote to Captain BIrge of my company and sent it 
 out by comrade Crawford of Company F of my 
 regiment, who was listed for exchange. This let- 
 ter was received and forwarded to my sister, Mrs. 
 Henry Utley, now of this State. She has pre- 
 served this letter with others that I wrote while a 
 prisoner and recently she loaned them to me. I 
 have them before me now. 
 
 The letter that I particularly refer to is, In part, 
 as follows: 
 
 "Camp Yankee, Belle Isle, 
 "Richmond, Virginia, September 28, 1863. 
 "Capt. M. D. Birge, Co. A, Sixth Mich. Cavalry. 
 "Dear Captain: Hoyt, Swain, Douglas, and 
 myself, with nineteen of Company L, Seventh 
 Cavalry, were taken prisoners on the left of our 
 line on the 21st Inst, and here we are, with the 
 exception of Hoyt, on Belle Isle. Hoyt was badly 
 wounded and has been paroled and sent to Wash- 
 ington. 
 
44 
 
 A Prisoner at Belle Isle 
 
 "Considering the scanty rations, the awfully ex- 
 posed and shelterless condition of the prisoners, 
 and the evident Inability of the Confederate au- 
 thorities to feed and shelter, even the guards, to 
 say nothing of the constantly increasing number 
 of prisoners, I cannot believe that our Government 
 will permit us to remain here very long, so I fully 
 expect to be with you soon. We are hoping and 
 praying to be soon exchanged. Now Is the time 
 for the Government to act, for if the 4,000 or 
 5,000 men that are now here are held until the 
 winter begins, what remains of them will be unfit 
 for service the coming year, if ever." 
 
 The air was full of reports that we would be 
 exchanged, and I fully believed It, for I felt that 
 the Federal authorities were well aware of the im- 
 poverished condition of the Confederate States 
 and the great suffering and mortality that would 
 follow if the prisoners were held through the win- 
 ter months. We were fully convinced that our 
 Government would at once take action to save the 
 lives of Its soldiers suffering in prison ; but in this 
 we were doomed to disappointment. Looking 
 back at it now. It seems Incredible and monstrous 
 that the Secretary of War could deliberately close 
 his eyes and ears to our suffering and want. It 
 was well for us that we could not foresee what 
 was in store for us in the many long, terrible 
 months to come, for If we had known, the 
 strongest would have sank in despair. As It was, 
 
A Prisoner at Belle Isle ^s 
 
 - ■' — — ■ — ■ ■ ■ " ~ - ■■ — — ' ■ - — ■■■■■ — ■- ■ - ■ 1 
 
 we were buoyed up with the hope and report that 
 we would be exchanged "next week." That re- 
 port was constantly afloat In the camp. 
 
 My experience on the island is as vivid in my 
 memory as if it happened last week. I shall never 
 forget it. There were eleven of us that stuck to^ 
 gether and helped each other like brothers. While 
 none of us had been deprived of anything that we 
 had in our possession when captured, we were all 
 short of overcoats or blankets, and the nights were 
 cold and the ground damp and as hard as a pave- 
 ment. Night after night I walked back and forth 
 to keep warm, but toward morning would tumble 
 over through exhaustion and fall asleep. In this 
 way I contracted a severe cold and fell sick with 
 fever. My boys secured a piece of canvas about 
 six feet square, so part would be over and part 
 under me, and before long they got possession of a 
 tent that was left them by a few friends who, in 
 some way, were exchanged. They took the best 
 care of me possible without medicine. It was an 
 utter impossibility to obtain medicine for love or 
 money. For eight days and nights I lay there un- 
 conscious, continually calling for water, and when 
 the fever left me I couldn't believe that I had been 
 sick eight days until they showed me the eight 
 pieces of corn bread, our daily rations, that, not- 
 withstanding their short allowance and craving 
 for food, they had saved for me. There was no 
 doubt of the eight days, for there was the evi- 
 
46 A Prisoner at Belle Isle 
 
 dence. I well knew that there could be no surplus 
 bread lying around loose. Bread was too scarce. 
 
 That day a sergeant of the guard visited me. 
 He conveyed the glad but weather-beaten tidings 
 of exchange, but not in the old stereotyped form 
 this time. He said it would come "to-morrow." 
 Blessings on him, if alive ; and if dead, may the 
 earth lie lightly upon him ! 
 
 This time I was sure of it. I tried to get on my 
 feet, but could not. Finally, after being helped to 
 a standing position, supported by a comrade on 
 each side and encouraged by the rebel's advice, 
 "never say die," I managed to take a few steps, 
 but my knees refused to act their part. 
 
 It would never do to have the boys leave me 
 next day, I thought. They promised not to go 
 without me. I thought the "to-morrow" would 
 never come, but it did, and the next day, and the 
 next and the next, and we were still on Belle Isle. 
 
 Just a word more about the cheerful and encour- 
 aging "exchange" rebel falsifier. I cannot think of 
 him other than that of a pure philanthropist and 
 humanitarian. We had no medicine and he had 
 none to give us. We were his enemies Invading his 
 country. There was war, "grim-visaged war," be- 
 tween us, and he could have done a thousand times 
 worse than to say, "You will be exchanged to-mor- 
 row." He could, with hard, cold truth have said 
 to me, "You may not die just yet, but you might as 
 well; and if you do it will be mighty small loss. 
 It will be one enemy less ; and, suppose you do not 
 
A Prisoner at Belle Isle 
 
 47 
 
 die just yet, your prospect is a tough one, for your 
 Government is about to shut down the hd as far as 
 exchanging prisoners is concerned, if it hasn't 
 already, and you will be here and at Andersonville, 
 where you won't even have corn bread to eat, for 
 the next fourteen months." Had I known then 
 what was in store for me I never could have sur- 
 vived Belle Isle. 
 
 "Allowing for the sake of argument," said the 
 priest tO' Voltaire, "that you are right; that there 
 is no God ; that there is no eternity and no future 
 reward for the good and no punishment for the 
 wicked, and that death is the end of us, where does 
 the benefit of your boasted 'enlightenment of the 
 human race' come in? Does your doctrine im- 
 prove matters ? What do you give us in exchange 
 for our faith and hope of future reward that we so 
 firmly believe in?" 
 
 The priest had the philosopher, metaphorically 
 speaking, on the hip. 
 
 I was very weak, but through the kindness of my 
 friends, who tenderly nursed me through my sick- 
 ness, I was soon able to walk. It was nothing 
 short of a miracle that I pulled through this sick- 
 ness, and as I gained strength I became ravenously 
 hungry. It seemed as if I was trying to make up 
 for lost time and get even with my eight days' fast. 
 The tears come to my eyes now when I recall the 
 many instances of — I must call it deception, on 
 the part of my comrades in order to divide their 
 meager rations with me. 
 
4,8 A Pidsoner at Belle Isle 
 
 "Here, Jim," said Bowles, a few days after I 
 had got on my feet, "take part of my hoe-cake and 
 put it down your neck. I am not very hungry to- 
 day and have had enough." He was starving and 
 I knew it. 
 
 Oh, how tenderly they cared for me — Bowles 
 and Whitcomb and Swain and Dalzell and Doug- 
 las and Monroe and Whitworth and Holcomb 1 
 
 Thanks to the brave fellows, I gained strength 
 and lived. 
 
 While I was convalescing, a rebel soldier off 
 duty passed me one day with a bundle. He turned 
 and keenly looked at me. I was little more than 
 skin and bones. After eyeing me for a second with 
 a look of "Southern hatred" and with an air of 
 "studied cruelty," he handed me a large red apple, 
 and adding insult to injury, he said, "Stick your 
 teeth into that apple, Yank, and try for a minute 
 to fohget about tihe Nawth." 
 
 He hurried away before I had time to thank 
 him ; in fact, he didn't give me an opportunity to 
 speak a word. I was dumbfounded. His reward 
 will come tO' him hereafter. 
 
 I never saw him afterward, although I tried to 
 find him, and my seeming ingratitude has been a 
 source of regret to me ever since. I hugged the 
 apple to my breast, then sat down and cried. I 
 then took it to the boys and insisted upon its being 
 divided. "No," said Swain, "it will only be a taste 
 for us. Don*t be silly, Jim. You must eat it'your- 
 self." But it was passed around and e?iQh qn^ t;ook 
 
A Prisoner at Belle Isle ^g 
 
 a good smell of It. It was one of those fine, large 
 apples with a delicious fruity aroma. 
 
 I kept the apple until the following day, when 
 one of our men happened to get a loaf of white 
 bread. He gave me a liberal portion of it, and 
 with half the apple, for I would have no' more, I 
 had a feast, and I thought that when I got home I 
 never would want anything to eat but white bread 
 and apples. 
 
 After this I fully recovered my health and 
 strength, and soon entered into active business on 
 "Market Street." 
 
 I sold my watch (a present from my brother 
 Rodney) to one of the guards and laid out the 
 price of it in a stock of salables, consisting of 
 sausage, blsqilts, chewing and smoking tobacco, 
 and such things. Each day I would take a portion 
 of my merchandise and prepare It for sale by re- 
 tail. The sausage I cut into small pieces, and ' 
 putting part of my stock as temptingly as I could 
 on a piece of board, I marched up and down Mar- 
 ket Street, which ran from the main entrance 
 through the prison grounds, crying out my wares : 
 "Here Is your fresh, delicious sausage, only ten 
 cents in money or a dollar in 'confed.' " My busi- 
 ness was fairly good, but I was more than eating 
 up the profits. I kept at it day after day, buying a 
 fresh supply with the money I was taking in ; but 
 both stock and money were dwindling. At night I 
 would be tired and would sleep well. In this way 
 
 4 
 
50 A Prisoner at Belle Isle 
 
 I kept my mind occupied, and obtained a little 
 means to satisfy my cravings for food, which 
 helped me to endure my miserable surroundings. 
 
 At last I "went broke," and something had to be 
 done to get back in business again. I made a bar- 
 gain with one of the guards. I traded him a pair 
 of expensive cavalry boots that cost me $15 shortly 
 before I was captured, for a haversack full of 
 small hard biscuits and a quantity of tobacco. As 
 soon as I reached my tent I gave half my stock 
 to Dar Swain, my bunk-mate. It was evening and 
 I was very hungry, but I concluded to pass the 
 night on an empty stomach rather than the next 
 forenoon. I wanted to be in the best condition 
 possible, to re-embark in the mercantile business, 
 and placed my stock in trade under my head for a 
 pillow. Next morning my first thought was for 
 my valued haversack, and I reached for it and 
 found it missing. Some "Yank," hungrier than 
 myself, had purloined it by cutting a hole in the 
 tent. I don't think that I ever met with a loss in 
 my life that I felt as keenly as this. But Swain had 
 his share safe and another division was made of 
 the property. 
 
 Eleven of us that were captured together, all 
 close friends and comrades, now occupied an old 
 bell tent that furnished us shelter. Our condition 
 was far better than it had been before I was taken 
 sick, and about the first of November blankets 
 were issued to each one of us by the Confederate 
 
A. Prisoner at Belle Isle 5 1 
 
 authorities. This was a God-send to the prisoners, 
 as the weather was getting more severe. 
 
 Of the eleven, I can remember the names of 
 nine, Wm. Bowles and T. T. Whitcomb of Com- 
 pany L, Sixth Michigan Cavalry. The others 
 belonged to Company A, Sixth Michigan Cavalry, 
 namely: Darwin P. Swain, Wm. Dalzell, Reuben 
 B. Douglas, David A. Monroe, Wm. G. Whit- 
 worth, John Holcomb, and myself. 
 
 The liveliest one of our squad was Wm. V. 
 Bowles, first sergeant of Company L, Sixth 
 Michigan Cavalry. He was a natural-bom 
 soldier; bom and reared in the English army, 
 where his father was a soldier. He was a hardy, 
 jolly companion, always making the best of every- 
 thing and thankful that it was no worse; but on 
 Christmas Day, when for some unknown cause 
 there were no rations issued to us and we were 
 obliged to retire to our quarters unusually hungry, 
 it was too much for Bowles, and he lustily cursed 
 the "blowsted" Southern Confederacy for giving 
 him nothing to eat on Christmas Day. 
 
 "Why, ye knaw," said he, "the lowiest 'cottier' 
 in England will have his roast beef and plum 
 puddin' on Christmas Day !" He cursed the whole 
 country from Baffin's Bay to the Gulf of Mexico. 
 The Washington Government and Secretary Stan- 
 ton came in for a full measure of vigorous pro- 
 fanity. He wound up with, "You half-starved 
 Yankees, we are not going to be cheated out of our 
 Christmas dinner. I shall now Invite you all to a 
 
52 
 
 A Prisoner at Belle Isle 
 
 Christmas dinner to take the place of this one that 
 we didn't have to-day. As soon as we are ex- 
 changed I shall set up the dinner and pay for it 
 myself." And, taking a small memorandum-book, 
 he took down our names and made out a bill of 
 fare. It was an elaborate menu. We expected as 
 usual to be exchanged in a few days. 
 
 Bowles's bill of fare was an inviting one. It 
 consisted, to begin with, of turkey stuffed with 
 oysters, plum pudding and roast beef. I have for- 
 gotten the minor items. We knew that he would 
 keep his word if he had to pawn his clothes. Bill 
 Bowles never went back on a friend and never went 
 - back on his word. 
 
 The bill of fare was headed with: "Bill of fare 
 that we didn't get at Belle Isle, on Christmas, 
 1863." The discussion of this forthcoming dinner 
 brought tears to the eyes of the most of us, but 
 there was not that degree of grief that was ex- 
 hibited by the very few of us who did really par- 
 take of that dinner, precisely as Bowles designed it, 
 after we were exchanged at Baltimore, late in 
 1864. Only two of us partook of It, but Sergeant 
 Bill Bowles kept his word. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 FROM BELLE ISLE TO ANDERSONVILLE 
 
 The preacher, God bless his memory! was in 
 evidence at Belle Isle. His ministration was the 
 most consoling, and the hymns were a grateful ac- 
 companiment of the word preached. While In 
 youth my musical education was sadly neglected, 
 and I did not soar any higher than the "Arkansas 
 Traveler" or "There Is a Low Green Valley on 
 the Old Kentucky Shore." I was fond of vocal 
 music of a non-classical character. 
 
 A soldier named Daniel Finch, belonging to an 
 Illinois regiment, composed a song with "local 
 coloring." It was a parody on "Ho, Bob Ridley, 
 Ho." Dan was a good singer and could always 
 collect a crowd. I can remember only the first few 
 lines: 
 
 "The Johnnie Reb is a funny man, 
 He feeds us on the Southern plan. 
 Our tent is open behind and before, 
 And a 'grayback' guards us at the door. 
 Ho, Belle Island, ho! and ho, Belle Island, ho!" 
 
 Our guards enjoyed Finch's song as much as we 
 did, and he would sing It for them at the slightest 
 request. 
 
 "Say, Dan, whg told you that there was a door 
 to a tent?" inquired one of the boys. "Oh, I know 
 
54 
 
 Prom Belle Isle to Andersonville 
 
 that a 'flap' would sound better, but I was bothered 
 about the rhyme." 
 
 Dan Finch was one of those cheerful, obliging 
 fellows who make friends on all sides. He was a 
 born diplomat, and in January made himself one 
 of the needles that the exchange manipulators 
 found in the hay-stack. We didn't envy him his 
 extraordinary good luck, for each individual one of 
 us hoped that the case might soon be his own ; but 
 we sadly missed his smiling face and genial ways. 
 I have forgotten, if I ever knew, whether he was 
 exchanged or paroled. He was liked by rebel of- 
 ficers and guards, and they might have had some- 
 thing to do with selecting him for exchange. His 
 Belle Isle song was humorous, and in no manner 
 insulting or disrespectful to our "seceded breth- 
 ren." It was the song of the politician, diplomatic 
 in the extreme, and he was wise, knowing full well 
 that the "rebs" had the drop on us. In one part 
 of his poetical effusion he portrayed the "Johnnie" 
 doing the best he could, and that his rations and 
 surroundings were but little better than ours — a 
 fact that we have been slow to acknowledge, but 
 nevertheless it is true. We were totally deprived 
 of our liberty ; there was the rub. 
 
 It is related that during a troublesome period in 
 France an old man over sixty years of age, Parisian 
 born, who had never been outside the city in his 
 life, became mixed up in some political trouble and 
 was taken before the authorities who, doubting his 
 complicity, sentenced him to remain within the city 
 
From Belle Isle to Andersonville ^^ 
 
 limits under police surveillance. The deprivation 
 of his liberty was more than the old man could 
 bear and he died in a few months. 
 
 Once a prisoner is within the stockade, parole is 
 nearly as rare as the proverbial "hen's teeth," and 
 after November, 1863, exchange of prisoners ap- 
 peared to be forgotten, particularly as far as the 
 Washington authorities were concerned. We will 
 fully diagnose that monstrous policy later on in this 
 unpolished and truthful volume. 
 
 There were instances of prisoners, both North 
 and South, who took the oath of allegiance to the 
 Government holding them as prisoners, for the 
 sake of regaining their liberty ; but to the everlast- 
 ing honor of the men in blue and gray, these were 
 isolated cases in comparison to the immense num- 
 ber who were prisoners of war and who persistently 
 refused so to bargain away their liberty. 
 
 There were thousands of prisoners at Belle Isle, 
 Salisbury, and Andersonville, and at Rock Island, 
 Camp Douglas, and Elmira, who died rather than 
 sacrifice their honor. 
 
 Dan Finch, however, regained his liberty legiti- 
 mately, for we received a letter from him while at 
 Baltimore, and another when he reached his 
 parents' home, which was somewhere in central 
 New York, in Cortland County, if I am not mis- 
 taken. Soon after, a comrade prisoner of his re- 
 ceived a letter from him stating that he had re- 
 joined his regiment. It had been recruited in Illi- 
 nois, where Finch was living at the time. 
 
e6 From Belle Isle to AndersonTille 
 
 I was early in life convinced of the inspired wis- 
 dom in which the "good-book" abounds, and I sin- 
 cerely hope that Mark Twain was not in a jocular 
 mood when he advised the clergyman to read the 
 Bible, for he would find it interesting and in- 
 structive. 
 
 What a world of truth, wisdom, logic, and valu- 
 able advice there is in that biblical quotation, "A 
 soft answer turneth away wrath, but grievous 
 words stir up anger." 
 
 I have always, since the time when as a Sunday- 
 school boy I committed those lines to memory, 
 adopted the advice as a motto for future guidance. 
 There is also a world of truth and logic — not ex- 
 actly synonymous with the above, however — in 
 Ella Wheeler Wilcox's "Laugh and the world 
 laughs with you, weep and you weep alone." 
 
 I had a leaning toward both the scriptural in- 
 junction and that sentiment of Ella Wheeler Wil- 
 cox's, but Dan Finch was the very personification 
 of both. 
 
 Touching my treatment on the whole, I cannot 
 recall a solitary instance, during the fourteen 
 months while I was a prisoner, of being insulted, 
 browbeaten, robbed, or maltreated in any manner 
 by a Confederate officer or soldier. 
 
 The books written by other Union soldiers who 
 were prisoners in the South teem with accounts of 
 the brutality, insults, and suffering heaped upon 
 them by rebel officers and guards, seemingly for 
 cruelty's sake. I cannot question the veracity of 
 
From Belle Isle to AndersonrUle ^y 
 
 those Northern writers, but I can and will speak, 
 for myself, so far as, I was concerned, and as to my 
 experience and as to what came under my observa- 
 tion. With all respect to my late brethren-in-arms 
 in prison life I cannot but think that to some extent 
 they were instrumental, if they state facts, in bring- 
 ing this treatment upon themselves. Did they give 
 the "soft answer" when questioned? I do not hold 
 that the prisoner when questioned should be oblig- 
 ing to the extent of giving information; but he 
 can be courteous in his refusal to do so. 
 
 When General Hill questioned me at Liberty 
 Mills he was very courteous, even genial. I tried 
 to be even more polite and deferential, but he did 
 not get a tithe out of me other than what he 
 already knew ; and that hero and gentleman — for 
 he was both — showed neither Irritation nor disap- 
 pointment in his Interview with me. He asked me 
 more than a score of questions, nearly all of which 
 I could have definitely answered to his satisfaction, 
 but I wobbled and he knew it, and he dismissed me 
 with a smile and said, "You are certainly a smooth- 
 bore Yankee." 
 
 Human nature is much the same. North and 
 South, East and West. Civility begets civility. 
 Josh Billings once wrote, "It is onreasonibul to ex- 
 pect a man rising from a sudden fall on the ice to 
 beem with cherfulness." Upon being captured our 
 boys could not beam with cheerfulness, It is true, 
 and I know that many of them were curt and irrit- 
 able in their intercourse with the guards. 
 
eg Prom Belle Isle to Andersonville 
 
 A detachment of Union soldiers were once sur- 
 rounded and captured in a piece of timber. When 
 they realized that It was all up with them the most 
 of the battalion dropped their muskets, but one of 
 the boys retained his until a rebel soldier was about 
 to reach for it, whereupon the Federal sprang 
 back, caught the musket near the muzzle In both 
 hands, and swinging It over his head smashed it 
 against a tree. "Now, damn you, pick up the 
 pieces I" he ejaculated. 
 
 "What execrable manners I" eclalmed Madame 
 de Stael when Napoleon bluntly and In non-tea- 
 table language refused to grant some political favor 
 for which she importuned him. "It's a pity that 
 one so great was so badly brought up." 
 
 The bravery and loyalty of the musket-destroy- 
 ing soldier was extolled in the North from "Dan to 
 Beersheba," and every town and hamlet between 
 the two Portlands was made acquainted with the 
 Incident. If this soldier is alive to-day it is safe to 
 say that he hasn't got through recounting the abuse, 
 insults, and misery that were heaped upon him 
 while a prisoner in the South. 
 
 A soldier of the type of Dan Finch stripe would, 
 with a smile, forced though it might have been, 
 have quietly handed over his gun, with some pleas- 
 ant remark about the fortunes of war, and made a 
 friend of his captor. 
 
 Upon surrendering his musket, Dan would make 
 a little speech, no doubt, for he was boiling over 
 with loquacity. It would be something like this, 
 
From Belle Isle to Andersonville eg 
 
 "In consideration of your good fortune and valor, 
 I have the honor to present you with this musket, 
 no longer of any apparent use to me. Take it, dear 
 sir, and with it my blessing." And the gloom 
 would have been somewhat dispelled by a hearty 
 laugh all around. I always found the rebel had a 
 keen appreciation of a joke; he would even enjoy 
 telling a joke on himself. 
 
 Dan Finch was every whit as good and true a 
 soldier as the one who destroyed his musket. His 
 comrade said he was valiant and brave and a dare- 
 devil on the fighting line, but he showed none of it 
 at Belle Isle. There he was as non-combative and 
 as meek as a lamb, and he was wise. 
 
 A few months after I reached Andersonville, 
 while Captain Wirz was passing me on his horse, 
 I inadvertently raised my hand to my cap, and he 
 returned the salute. He continued on his way, 
 after keenly eyeing me, without a word, but he 
 knew me when I called on him later. The salute 
 was the beginning of our friendship. My com- 
 rades In exile rebuked me, but my act of harmless 
 courtesy did me no harm. But I am anticipating. 
 
 At Belle Isle I first became acquainted with a 
 number of Southern characteristic bits of speech 
 which were new to me. I found that the part of 
 the day which we refer to as "afternoon," with 
 them was "evening." It seemed that any time in 
 the day later than 12 m. was evening. "Good 
 evening," a rebel would say to me as early as one 
 or two o'clock in the afternoon. With them, what 
 
6o From Belle Isle to Andersonville 
 
 we would call a "pail" in the North was a 
 "bucket," and to carry a thing, with a Southerner 
 was to "tote it." "Plumb" was another Southern 
 colloquation ; "I am plumb tired out." The 
 r-slighting soft Southern drawl always had a 
 peculiar charm for me. At Belle Isle you could 
 hear the different sectional dialects from all parts 
 of the country ; for instance, the New Hampshire 
 or Vermont soldier who in pronouncedly nasal 
 tones spoke of receiving his "teown beounty," but 
 hadn't got his "keounty beounty." 
 
 On February i8, 1864, an order was issued to 
 about one thousand of us to be in readiness for 
 leaving Belle Isle at 9 A. M. the following morning. 
 Our "eleven" were among those to depart. What 
 rejoicing ! We were fully satisfied that this meant 
 nothing short of exchange, and there was great 
 happiness among us as we marched over the bridge 
 on our way to the cars singing "When Johnny 
 Comes Marching Home." We were put into 
 cars and the train pulled out on its way to Peters- 
 burg. Ah, we were going in the wrong direction ; 
 but perhaps we would change cars there for City 
 Point or some sea-coast town. The guards told us 
 that they knew no more than we did as to our des- 
 tination, and I don't believe they did. We reached 
 Petersburg about noon and remained there several 
 hours, and then moved out toward the southeast. 
 We understood that there was a railroad running 
 directly east to City Point, and the fact that we 
 didn't take that road looked a little ominous, but 
 
From Belle Isle to Andersonville 6 1 
 
 we still thought, nevertheless, that we were about 
 to be exchanged. 
 
 Visions of home and friends loomed up before 
 us, but we were still going south. 
 
 Next day the train was slowly traveling along in 
 a southerly direction. We were about a week on 
 the journey going through North Carolina and 
 South Carolina and into Georgia. Visions of ex- 
 change were dispelled when we left the cars and 
 stood In line before the south gate of Anderson- 
 ville Prison. 
 
 This was on the 27th day of February, 1864. 
 It was between 10 and 11 A. M. when I was ush- 
 ered in. I spent the remainder of the day explor- 
 ing the camp to find a favorable place for our hab- 
 itation. 
 
 The camp was situated in what had been heavy 
 pine timber, but the trees had been cut down. 
 There was a stream of clear water running east 
 through the prison grounds. The stockade was 
 built of pine logs cut twenty feet long and hewed 
 to the thickness of one foot and set in a trench 
 five feet deep, making a wall fifteen feet high, on 
 top of which were sentry boxes about thirty-five 
 feet apart. The stockade was not quite completed 
 when we arrived, but a strong force of men was 
 at work at it. When completed it would comprise 
 about eleven acres. There were only about 2,000 
 prisoners confined there upon our arrival. 
 
 We were guarded by the Twenty-fifth Alabama 
 Infantry, veteran troops, who knew how to treat 
 
62 From Belle Isle to Andersonville 
 
 prisoners. And I said then, and have ever since 
 said, in speaking of our guards, the Twenty-fifth 
 Alabama Infantry, I never met the same number 
 of men together who came much nearer to my 
 standard of what I call gentlemen. They were re- 
 spectful, humane and soldierly. 
 
 We were organized into squads of ninety, and I 
 soon discovered that the young rebel sergeant in 
 charge of our squad was a fine young fellow. 
 
 The ground within the enclosure, from the 
 brook both to the north and south, sloped upward. 
 The entrances to the prison were through two 
 large gates on the west side, one on each side of 
 the creek — one the "north" and the other the 
 "south" gate. There was a small stockade-yard 
 on the outside around each gate, and there was a 
 street running lengthwise through the camp from 
 each gate. 
 
 The stream running through the ground was 
 clear, with quite a rapid current, with a fall of 
 about five feet to the mile, and was not the "slug- 
 gish, muddy stream, without the least perceptible 
 water motion" that some have described it. At 
 this time the stream furnished an ample water 
 supply. 
 
 One writer refers to the fence as a "solid wall 
 of hewn logs set close together twenty-five feet 
 above the ground." The wall of logs was but fif- 
 teen feet above the ground. My occupation be- 
 fore I enlisted was that of surveyor, and by scien- 
 tific friends and those seeking favors I was often 
 
From Belle Isle to Andersonvllle 63 
 
 referred to as a "civil engineer." I had an eye for 
 measurements and topography. The wall was fif- 
 teen feet above the ground. 
 
 I have read Richardson, Kellogg, Urban, Spen- 
 cer, and Grigsby on Andersonville, the most of 
 them recently, and I was and am surprised at their 
 free-lance recklessness of description. 
 
 Let us first discuss the topographical site of An- 
 dersonville Prison. I realize that this phase of 
 the question has been reverted to and minutely de- 
 scribed on an average of about once in every five or 
 six years, since Richardson first gave his views to 
 the public early in the autumn of 1865. Neverthe- 
 less, hackneyed and weatherbeaten though the sub- 
 ject is, I propose to give my version of it. 
 
 The selection of the site was an excellent one. I 
 do not propose to dilate on the beauties of a prison. 
 I never saw a beautiful jail yet; no more did I ever 
 see a "beautiful coffin," as I have heard it phrased. 
 
 I wouldn't advise any one to seek a prison as a 
 good place to spend a vacation. 
 
 Of course there were suffering, hunger, and 
 misery among the prisoners at Andersonville, and 
 I had my share of it there. There were also 
 hunger, misery, and suffering at Salisbury and at 
 Rock Island, and Elmira, the twO' latter places 
 right in a "land of plenty." 
 
 The Confederate officer who selected Anderson- 
 ville gave evidence of his being an engineer of no 
 mean caliber. It was testimony that in his pro- 
 fession he was above mediocrity. I don't believe 
 
6j. From Belle Isle to Andersonville 
 
 that in the whole State of Georgia a better choice 
 could have been made. 
 
 The place was healthful and salubrious and the 
 water was good. The ground within the enclosure 
 was not as has been described by an unfriendly 
 chronicler, seemingly with malice aforethought, as 
 "wet, boggy, miry, and a swamp." The descrip- 
 tion does not fit. 
 
 While Spencer is mistaken, to criticise mildly, in 
 many of his charges, his first description of Ander- 
 sonville is so truthful and at variance with other 
 Northern writers that I quote him: 
 
 "Andersonville is in the richest portion of the 
 cotton and corn-growing region of Georgia, upon 
 the South Western Railroad, sixty-two miles south 
 of Macon and nine miles north of Americus, the 
 shiretown of the county of Sumter. The popula- 
 tion at the time of locating the prison did not ex- 
 ceed twenty persons. The locality is healthy, be- 
 ing upon an elevated ridge of light sandy soil, with 
 rolling hills all around it. The climate is mild. 
 The coldest weather is during December and Janu- 
 ary, when the ordinary range is about 42° Fahren- 
 heit. By barometrical observation Andersonville 
 is 328 feet above tide water. The wells and 
 springs and clear streams in its neighborhood are 
 remarkable for the coolness, pleasant taste, and 
 crystal transparency of their contents as well as 
 for their abundant supply."* 
 
 •Ambrose Spencer, "A Narrative of Andersonville," pp. 16, 17. 
 
From Belle Isle to Andersonville 65 
 
 There is a dearth of "wet, boggy, miry swampi- 
 ness" in that description, you notice. 
 
 Now, dear reader, mind you, the above quota- 
 tion is a description relative to the prison surround- 
 ings. Here is another account by the same writer, 
 speaking of the prison (pp. 19, 20) : 
 
 "A small stream of water ran through it, about 
 five feet wide and six inches deep, which took its 
 rise in a swamp or morass about fifty feet farther 
 east, and consisted of a matted, tangled growth 
 of hay and swamp myrtle, with small tussocks of 
 grass and logs of decaying wood. The borders 
 of the stream were swampy and of miry character, 
 while its course was tortuous and sluggish, and its 
 water at no time fit for use, but as is well known 
 in that country the prolific parent of disease and 
 death, flowing as it did, from a reservoir steeped 
 in decaying vegetable matter and noisome from the 
 taste of the mould through which it was filtered. 
 A portion of this stream, with its generating marsh, 
 was confined within the limits of the prison 
 bounds." 
 
 As these conflicting descriptions were written by 
 the same author in the same chapter of the same 
 book, the reason, the why, the reader is at liberty 
 to determine. 
 
 The first account is that of a healthy, salubrious 
 camp, with clear, sparkling, running water, of ex- 
 5 
 
66 From Belle Isle to Andersonville 
 
 cellent sort, while the latter description is that of 
 a noisome, death-dealing place, with a sluggish 
 stream of water running through it, disease-gener- 
 ating and unfit to drink. 
 
 "During all the time at Anderson," writes 
 Urban, "Father Hamilton was the only clergyman 
 who ever entered the prison, and he would not 
 have been admitted but for the fact that Wirz was 
 himself a Roman Catholic." Father Hamilton 
 was a Catholic priest. A little farther on in the 
 same volume, and in the same breath, metaphori- 
 cally speaking, Mr. Urban informs his readers that 
 another clergyman, "a little rebel chaplain," fre- 
 quently visited the prisoners. What a careless 
 handling of truth ! 
 
 I met and conversed with both Father Hamil- 
 ton and the "little rebel chaplain," and of course 
 they must both have been there. Both were God- 
 fearing philanthropists and ministering angels that 
 did good, holy work. 
 
 Mr. Spencer, on page 20 of his book, states that 
 the site of Andersonville Prison was selected by 
 W. S. Winder, son of Gen. John H. Winder, of 
 the Confederate Army, and that after he had set- 
 tled upon the place "a disinterested spectator" 
 urged him to choose a more healthful site, and that 
 young Winder replied, "That is just what I'm not 
 going to do. I will make a pen here for the 
 damned Yankees where they will rot faster than 
 they can be sent." Reconcile all this if you can 
 
From Belle Isle to AndersonTille 67 
 
 with his description of the prison and surroundings 
 on pages 16 and 17 of his book. 
 
 One of these lurid writers dilates upon the fact 
 that hundreds of secessionists living adjacent to 
 the prison — men, women and children — ^would 
 come daily to enjoy the misery of the suffering 
 Union soldiers ; that they would gather in groups, 
 having their luncheons with them, and, sitting 
 down on the grass outside, would gaze for hours 
 at the Yankees. 
 
 Spencer, on page 27 of his book, in describing 
 this, says: 
 
 "Women went there day after day; forsaking 
 more pressing demands upon their time at home 
 and bearing their suckling babes upon their bo- 
 soms. They might be seen squatting upon the 
 ground and gossiping in the Interval, relieving the 
 hours with dipping snuff or nursing their offspring, 
 while they knitted socks and gloated over the novel 
 sight of the prospect before them." 
 
 To borrow an expression from Shakespeare, 
 "Now mark how plain a tale will put him down." 
 
 The knitting women with suckling babes upon 
 their breasts were squatted on the grass outside the 
 stockade. What for? To gaze at the Yankee 
 prisoners and gloat over them. Nothing easier. 
 Like the gun that the owner boasted could shoot 
 around a comer, these knitting women must have 
 enjoyed looking from the ground on the outside 
 
68 Prom Belle Isle to Andersonville 
 
 over a solid palisade of logs fifteen feet high while 
 gloating over the suffering within. 
 
 The writer must have read Carlisle's history of 
 the French Revolution, during the time the wives 
 and daughters of the Canaille sat around the guil- 
 lotine "knitting socks" while the heads of the aris- 
 tocrats were being cut off. 
 
 I say this story of the knitting women is pure 
 fiction. It is true that men, women, and children 
 would collect at the depot upon the arrival of 
 trains with prisoners, out of curiosity, and would 
 sometimes congregg^e at and around the entrances 
 to the grounds. JThese spectators were generally 
 silent and respectful In demeanor; but the scenes 
 described by others of howling, cursing, and threat- 
 ening ruffians and screaming, insulting and mud- 
 throwing viragoes is but a fancy of the writer. 
 Nothing of that sort came under my observation. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 DAILY LIFE AT ANDERSONVILLE 
 
 There was a quantity of small down timber, 
 score blocks and brush in the camp, and the boys 
 conceived the idea of building a habitation of some 
 sort for shelter. So one day during the visit of 
 the young sergeant in charge of our detachment 
 we asked him how near the stockade we would be 
 permitted to build our quarters, and he said that 
 as soon as the stockade was completed there would 
 be a railing about twelve feet from the palisade, 
 a space which prisoners would not be allowed to 
 occupy or enter. This was known as the "djead™, 
 line." He cautioned us not to get our quarters 
 within the prescribed limit. The extreme lower 
 part of the ground was used by the prisoners for 
 certain purposes, and we selecJgiLa site as far as 
 possible from that quarter. JWhen we reached 
 Andersonville there was ample room, and to spare, 
 and we had no difficulty in selecting an available 
 place. ^The site chosen by us was at the south end 
 of the grounds, nearly in the center east and west, 
 and twelve feet from the palisade. 
 
 We built the house twelve by sixteen feet, three 
 logs high at the back and four logs on each side, 
 with a porch or "shade" in front, ten by sixteen 
 
yo Daily Life at AndersonvUle 
 
 feet, all covered with poles and brush, ingeniously 
 constructed to shed the rain as much as possible, 
 and it did serve its purpose fairly well. We had 
 to exercise some ingenuity, as our building was 
 erected without hammer or nails. T. T. Whit- 
 comb, being a carpenter, was the master mechanic. 
 
 We had a log about eighteen feet long and 
 eighteen inches from the ground in front of our 
 residence, and this we used as a bench. Wg.JSie£e, 
 very proud of our quarters, and as the prison filled 
 up-w4rirt)'ld°'arid"'IWW"Jjrisoners coming in almost 
 daily, and as the habitable territory all around us 
 was becoming densely populated, it developed that 
 we had about the best quarters in the prison. 
 
 Of the eleven of us Michigan boys who were to- 
 gether at Belle Isle, we were now but ten. Poor 
 Reuben B. Douglas died at Augusta, while en 
 route to Anderson ville. "Reube" was a fine fel- 
 low, a good soldier, a genial comrade, and he was 
 sadly mourned and greatly missed by us. This was 
 our first death, and we looked upon it as a sore af- 
 fliction. 
 
 A Colonel Persons of the Twenty-fifth Alabama 
 Regiment was at this time commander at Ander- 
 sonville. He was so popular and so well liked by 
 the prisoners that even Spencer and Urban speak 
 well of him. 
 
 During the month of March, while the Alabama 
 regiment was in command, our sergeant would oc- 
 casionally, upon our promising not to attempt to 
 escape, take us outside the stockade into the tim- 
 
Daily Life at AndersonviUe yi 
 
 ber. We would stroll around the woods for two 
 or three hours, and when we returned each one of 
 us would carry back an armful of wood. W e_ did 
 
 our own cooking^ At this time our rations con- 
 
 sisleaoT corn meal, beans, and an occasional ra- 
 tion of meat — not any way sumptuous nor too 
 plentiful. 
 
 We enjoyed the outings greatly. At the gate, 
 when going out, the sergeant would nearly always 
 lay aside his arms and trust to our honor to give 
 him no trouble and return with him, and I can 
 truthfully state here that none of my nine com- 
 rades nor myself abused the trust. 
 
 A few weeks after reaching AndersonviUe I was 
 troubled with the scurvy. My gums were sore and 
 my teeth were becoming loose. The sergeant, 
 upon hearing of my trouble, asked me several ques- 
 tions and said he would help me. Next morning 
 he brought me two or three small Irish potatoes, 
 which he said was the best-known remedy. I found 
 it so. There was hardly a day while his regiment 
 was at AndersonviUe that he did not bring me 
 some little gift or other in the shape of edibles. I 
 am sorry that I have forgotten his name, for I owe 
 him much. I was barefooted, ragged, and in poor 
 health ; a stranger in a strange land. This young 
 fellow was a sergeant in Company A, Twenty- 
 fifth Alabama Infantry. 
 
 One morning late in March the sergeant told 
 me there was an express box at the depot for me, 
 and he told me to give him a list of my friends' 
 
ya Dally Life at Andersonville 
 
 names and he would ascertain if there was any- 
 thing for them. I did so, and the next day he 
 brought in a box for me and one that had been 
 sent to poor Reuben Douglas, our deceased com- 
 rade. His box was delivered to me. My box con- 
 tained ham, tea, crackers, cheese, salt, soap, 
 quinine and a brand-new necktie of the fashion of 
 1862. I did so need the necktie. I hardly knew 
 how I had existed all winter without one. But 
 that box was a treat ! There were two nice cakes 
 of Castile soap. Hungry though I was, I think 
 that I prized the soap above all. The contents of 
 the two boxes were divided among the ten "Mich- 
 iganders," but I kept a whole cake of soap for my- 
 self. 
 
 For the preceding three weeks we had been 
 cooking our rations in clouds of turpentine smoke 
 from the pine wood, a smoke that left us as black 
 as full-blooded Ethiopians, and no amount of 
 washing and rubbing without soap had the least 
 effect. 
 
 As soon as the contents of the boxes were dis- 
 posed of and a safe, suitable place was selected for 
 the necktie I took my piece of soap and went to the 
 creek where we did our washing and bathing. 
 This place, in the daytime, was always crowded, 
 and it was some time before I could get to the 
 creek. When, armed with the soap, I could get 
 to the water, I began active operations. Oppo- 
 site to me was a half-naked boy, blackened so with 
 smoke that his mother would not have known him. 
 
Daily life at Andersonville 73 
 
 "Mister," said he, "please let me just get one rub 
 of that blessed soap." I handed it to him. Then 
 another asked me for "just a rub," and another 
 and another. I could not refuse, and when I 
 finally got It back the soap was half gone. After 
 that I adopted a new plan. It was, to use a little 
 French, a coup d' etat. When the sentry over my 
 head would call, "Post number 35. Three o'clock 
 and all is well," I would get up, take my soap, and 
 go to the now deserted creek, strip, which did not 
 take long, for by this time I had but a shirt and 
 pants, and I would wash myself from the top of 
 my head to the soles of my feet. 
 
 We were infested with vermin to a degree that, 
 were I to describe it adequately, my account would 
 be received with incredulity. In the hot weather 
 the suffering from the contact and foraging of this 
 pest was almost unbearable. 
 
 I have compared notes with Southern soldiers 
 who were prisoners at Rock Island and at Point 
 Pleasant, and with Confederate officers who were 
 at Columbus, Ohio, and an eminent jurist of Mon- 
 tana, Judge N. C. McConnell, a Christian and a 
 gentleman, whose every word I believe, an ex- 
 prisoner of Johnson's Island, who stated that to 
 his personal knowledge the ravages of this diminu- 
 tive raider were simply horrible. 
 
 Individuals in ordinary home life can form no 
 idea of the pest because they have never been ex- 
 posed to it as we were. It seemed that this para- 
 sitic Insect never knew what life was until it met 
 
'yj_ Daily Life at Andersonville 
 
 the soldier, and the fastidious son of Mars feared 
 it more than a woman fears a mouse. 
 
 In my boyhood days back in Michigan, and I 
 do not relate this to cast any reflection upon my 
 adopted State, we had a sort of epidemic of what 
 was known as the seven-years-itch. We looked 
 upon it as an excruciating afilictlon, but at its worst 
 it was nothing as compared to the suffering pro- 
 duced by this awful parasite. 
 
 And, in summing up the evidence of Union and 
 Confederate soldiers, all good witnesses, I decide 
 that Andersonville is entitled to the prize. It was 
 a very Mecca of this diminutive, horrible trans- 
 migrant. 
 
 I soon found that frequent bathing was a sort 
 of flank movement on the insect ; it was more than 
 a surprise, it was interfering with its communica- 
 tions. This adhering closely to the bathing plan 
 every morning through that terrible summer of 
 1864 I think was the saving of my life. 
 
 We parted with our l\Uhavn^ gn iards ea rly in 
 April. It was a disappointment to us, for we had 
 found friends among them, real friends who 
 shared with us their scant allowance. Others who 
 had nothing "gave all they had — a tear." The 
 Alabamians were replaced by militia and home- 
 guards. If I am not mistaken, about this time, 
 G en. Job , ■] f-f, W'^^"'"- fnril; .'^^""'""^'^"^ of Ander- 
 SSuallle and -of other Southern prisons. 
 |ThIs officer was thoroughly disliked by the pris- 
 oners at Andersonville, and not without cause. 
 
Daily life at Andersonville ye 
 
 He has been severely handled by other Northern 
 writers and I do not propose to defend him. He 
 has long since appeared before the Great Judge 
 of all judges. He was tyrann ical, and there was 
 no denying General Winder was a military ap- 
 pearing man, at that time perhaps sixty years of 
 age. In early life he had been a military cadet, 
 and it was said got into difficulty with the authori- 
 ties at West Point and would have been expelled 
 but for the intercession of John C. Calhoun. Of 
 this I have no knowledge except hearsay and re- 
 ports that were in circulation at Andersonville; 
 but this I do know, he was over-exacting, cruel, 
 and tyrannical by nature. To hold him personally 
 responsible, however, for the scant and meager 
 rations and lack of clothing to the prisoners I 
 think is both unjust and unreasonable, yet the little 
 he had to give he could have given less grudg- 
 ingly. As Colonel Ingersoll in one of his lectures 
 puts it, "If you have only a penny to contribute to 
 the needy, hand it over like a philanthropist; and 
 if you have but a dime to spend with a friend, 
 spend it like a prince." General Winder had an 
 intense hatred for Union soldiers and the Federal 
 Government, and was thereby the wrong man to 
 be in command of helpless prisoners. 
 
 Colonel Persons was an entirely different man. 
 He performed his duty as commandant of the 
 prison in a most humane manner, and the escape 
 of prisoners was not nearly so frequent an inci- 
 
y6 Daily liife at Andersonville 
 
 dent as after General Winder had assumed 
 charge. 
 
 There never was an officer in command of a 
 prison, North or South, more humane, fair, and 
 kindhearted, and yet unswerving and conscientious 
 in discharging the duties of his position and in loy- 
 alty to his Government, than Colonel Persons. 
 
 Even historian Spencer, bitter as he is toward 
 the Southern Confederacy in general and the rebel 
 prison commanders in particular, says:* 
 
 "The commandant of the post and prison at 
 this time was Col. A. W. Persons, formerly of 
 Fort Valley, Georgia, who was in temporary com- 
 mand of the Alabama regiment, then stationed as 
 guards. The authority of Colonel Persons was 
 not of long duration, but during the continuance 
 of his command no special complaints were made 
 by the prisoners of cruel treatment. His orders 
 were mainly directed to the safekeeping of the 
 prisoners and the supply of their commissariat. 
 
 "He allowed the prisoners to provide them- 
 selves with bushes and poles with which they 
 could erect arbors and shelters against the 
 weather. He permitted squads to go out daily 
 for the purpose of obtaining fuel, which was 
 abundant near the prison, and it is believed that, 
 as, far as his knowledge and experience of the re- 
 quirements of his position permitted, he used all 
 
 * "A Narrative of Andersonville," pp. 25-26. 
 
Daily Life at Andersonville >j>j 
 
 the facilities in his power to mitigate the condition 
 in which his prisoners were placed. 
 
 "But he did nothing more. He ought to have 
 urged the erection of barracks, however rough, to 
 shield his prisoners from the elements." 
 
 Early in April, after the ^'■^ttnti'^-^^*'^ ^liflhanm:? 
 Regiment — blessings on its memory! — departed, 
 we began to hear of Capt. Henry WIrz, or "Cap." 
 Wirz, as the boys called him. He had command 
 of the prisoners, or, more properly speaking, the 
 "interior" of the stockade, which meant the same 
 thing. 
 
 He had been in command a week qrten days 
 erore 1 saw mm. Laptam Wirz, it appeared, 
 did not make a good impression, possibly because 
 he was a foreigner and^sj)pk_e,.^e^tL an accent; at 
 any rate7reports~3erogatory to himDegarTto cir- 
 culate, and the story did not spoil in the telling. 
 What one suspected was recounted to the next as 
 a fact. I confess that in my credulity I was as 
 prejudiced against him as any of the prisoners. 
 The rations were cut down and the prisoners had 
 a grievance. In fact, they began to look upon 
 Captain Wirz as a cause of all this trouble. I 
 afterward ascertained that the order to shorten 
 rations reached Andersonville before Colonel Per- 
 sons had left. 
 
 About this time fuel became scarce in the 
 prison. The felled timber, score blocks, and 
 brush that remained on the ground after the stock- 
 
^8 Daily Life at Andersonville 
 
 ade was completed had all been used. The pine 
 stumps within the inclosure had been chopped up, 
 and even the roots dug up and used in cooking our 
 food. T he conditions were getting despera te. 
 We couldn't get suflicrent fuel to cook the rations 
 that were issued to us raw. Some of the prisoners 
 who had been allowed to go outside to collect fuel, 
 I am sorry to say, broke their temporary parole 
 and escaped and of course this had a tendency to 
 shut down on special privileges heretofore ac- 
 corded to us. Before Colonel Persons left we had 
 been given these privileges, and now the innocent 
 had to'suffer. 
 
 My company boys, "the Michiganders," were 
 nearly all sick. The partially cooked food aggra- 
 vated the sickness. "Our boys" and several of 
 our nearest neighbors held a meeting to discuss 
 ways and means, and the result was that I was se- 
 lected as ambassador to Captain Wirz. I had 
 previously met him as recorded in a former chap- 
 ter of this work. Meeting him in one of his 
 rounds of the prison I approached and saluted: 
 
 "Captain Wirz, I believe," said I. "Yes, sir." 
 "May I speak with you?" "Certainly." "Cap- 
 tain, there are a number of the prisoners adjacent 
 to my quarters, several of whom are my immediate 
 comrades, who are sick. We have no fuel with 
 which to cook our rations. The meal issued of 
 late is poor in quality. I think that there is part 
 of the cob ground with it. I am here on a begging 
 mission to see if something can not be done to 
 
Daily Iiife at Andersonville >jq 
 
 remedy matters. I trust that you will pardon 
 my presumption." "Yes, sir; you are certainly 
 excusable and ju^j^^le in coming to me. I real- 
 ize the situationTlam doing all I can to remedy 
 matters and to relieve the deplorable condition, 
 but I am hampered in many ways. We are build- 
 ing a bakery, working day and night to complete 
 it. There will be a change very soon; the men 
 will soon get bread." I heartily thanked him. ^ 
 
 The above is not the verbatim colloquy between 
 u s, bu t it is the substance of our conversation. 
 
 pHe impressed me as an unassuming, kind- 
 hearted man, with a somewhat sad expression of 
 countenance^ 
 
 Within "a cTay or two after this, meal of a bet- 
 ter quality was issued to us, and a day or two later 
 still, we received corn-meal mush, and later, bread. 
 
 And this was the man who has been charged 
 with deliberately putting a deadly poison into 
 vaccine matter that was used in vaccinating the 
 prisoners, the result of which "one hundred and 
 twenty died by vaccine-poisoning In one week." 
 
 The interview produced In my mind a complete 
 revolution of my opinion of the man. I had gone 
 to him with fear and trembling, looking for the 
 worst. I had hesitated and turned back two or 
 three times before I could conclude to speak to 
 him, but the remembrance of his returning my 
 salute some days previous had encouraged me. 
 One of my comrades, after I had started, called, 
 and overtaking me said, "Jim, come to think about 
 
8o Daily Life at Andersonville 
 
 it, I don't believe I'd go. It won't do any good. 
 He will construe it into a case of mutiny and order 
 you under arrest. No, don't go," and this caution- 
 ary advice only added to my perplexity. 
 
 The descriptions given by others of Captain 
 Wirz are so erroneous, misleading, and untrue 
 that I will describe him as well as I can at this 
 late day. Iffe was of good height, perhaps five 
 feet eight mches ; slim in build, with a handsome 
 face, aquiline nose, even features and a high fore- 
 head. His eyes were gray in color. At this time 
 he wore a short, partially full beard. There was 
 a quiet, subdued expression of sadness in his coun- 
 tenance, particularly in his eyes. There was 
 nothing of that "short, thick-set Dutchman, re- 
 pulsive In appearance, besotted, ignorant and 
 cruel" we hear about, or of a countenance denoting 
 "ferocity and brutalit y." | 
 
 I have always marveled at the descriptions of 
 this most unfortunate man given by those who 
 often saw him. 
 
 In May the prisoners began to arrive In great 
 numbers. It was excessively warm even for that 
 latitude. The guards spoke about the weather as 
 being more than usually hot, and the poor pris- 
 oners suffered from sickness superinduced by the 
 extreme heat. 
 
 Through the recommendation of Wirz an ad- 
 dition to the hospital was built, which was in 
 charge of Dr. Josiah H. White, who, I will say, 
 did everything in his power atld 3.% hh command 
 
Daily Life at AntiersonviUe 8 1 
 
 to alleviate the condition of the suffering patients. 
 Some time in April or the fore part of May, Dr. 
 R. R. Stevenson superseded Dr. White as medical 
 director. 
 
 Chief among the surgeons were Doctors J. H. 
 White, W. J. W. Kerr, and R. R. Stevenson. I 
 knew them and their surroundings sufficiently to 
 testify that no medical men, North or South, per- 
 formed their duty more laboriously or conscien- 
 tiously than the above-named gentlemen. They 
 labored night and day to alleviate the suffering 
 among the sick prisoners, and none but themselves 
 fully realized the difficulties under which they la- 
 bored. They were in constant attendance upon 
 the sick, ministering to them and doing all in their 
 power to heal and cure, but they were beset with 
 all manner of difficulties — the want of medicine, 
 the want of proper food, bedding, clothing, shel- 
 ter, and in fact everything needed to make sick 
 mans- comfortable. 
 
 /From my observations the charge that has been 
 so often made that these surgeons were in league 
 with Captain Wirz to rob, and that they wilfully 
 neglected the sick prisoners, is fal^e^/ 
 
 Yet those three surgeons were indicted with 
 Captain Wirz in these words: "That they did' 
 combine, confederate, and conspire maliciously, 
 traitorously and in violation of the laws of war, 
 to impair and injure the health and to destroy the 
 lives by subjecting tO' torture and great suffering, 
 6 
 
82 Daily Iilfe at Andersonville 
 
 by confining in unhealthy and unwholesome quar- 
 ters, by exposing to the inclemency of winter and 
 the dews and burning sun of summer, by compell- 
 ing the use of impure water and by furnishing 
 insufficient and unwholesome food to large num- 
 bers of Federal prisoners, to the end that the 
 armies of the United States might be weakened 
 and impaired, and the insurgents engaged in 
 armed rebellion against the United States might 
 be aided and comforted; and so knowing and 
 evilly intending, did refuse and neglect to provide 
 proper lodgings, food or nourishment for the sick, 
 and necessary medicines and medical attendance 
 for the restoration of their health, and did know- 
 ingly, wilfully and maliciously and in furtherance 
 of their evil designs, permit them to languish and 
 die for want of proper care and proper treat- 
 ment^ and a whole ream more of kindred 
 charges. 
 
 Not one of the thousands of prisoners that sur- 
 vived Andersonville but must have known that 
 this was a mass of falsehood, and yet these were 
 the charges and specifications that prevailed in 
 that unparalleled trial in October, 1865 ! 
 
 Grigsby, Spencer, Kellogg, and Urban allege 
 that the hospital was inadequate. That is true. 
 They claim that the sick prisoners had not proper 
 accommodations. That is true. They claim that 
 the food was not sufficiently nourishing. That is 
 true. And that there was not proper medicine or 
 a sufficiency of it to be used in the care of the sick 
 
Daily IJife at Andersonville 83 
 
 is correct. But we must remember that all the 
 time during 1864 the Confederate Government 
 was in an impoverished condition; the troops in 
 the field were without proper supplies and that 
 they were limited in the hospital supplies is unde- 
 niable. The Confederate Government itself was 
 suffering for the want of food, clothing, and medi-_ 
 cine. 
 
 Of course there were thousands in the hospitals 
 at Andersonville, the suffering was awful, and 
 there were thousands of deaths, but the surgeons 
 in attendance were no more accountable or to 
 blame for It than babe s. N either was Captain 
 Wirz to blame for it. ^I think that he and the 
 physicians did everything in their power with the 
 means at their command to care for the sick and to 
 alleviate the sufferln. g.7 Ttipv r\\i^ fb^''' '^"*Y IJkf 
 Chrjsria,n.^ a.nd,...Uk£...nnen . 
 
 Some of the Andersonville historians have pub- 
 lished an account of Dr. Kerr "brutally striking 
 a sick prisoner." Permit one who is familiar with 
 the circumstances to give the correct version. 
 
 One day in August Dr. Kerr caught a hospital 
 attendant, a paroled prisoner, selling a blanket to 
 a guard. Dr. Kerr investigated the matter and as- 
 certained the fact that the Federal prisoner had 
 stolen it from a patient. He as good as caught 
 him in the act, and when he remonstrated with 
 the thief the latter, being a desperate man, at- 
 tacked the Doctor, and but for the surgeon's agil- 
 ity he would have been injured. As it was his 
 
84 Daily IJlfe at Andersonville 
 
 sleeve was cut through with a knife, grazing the 
 skin, whereupon the Doctor promptly and very 
 properly struck the thief over the head with the 
 butt of his revolver, knocking him down and dis- 
 arming him. Simply that and nothing more, ex- 
 cept that the thief lost his detail and the sick pris- 
 oner found his blanket. 
 
 Yes, we had all manner of men among us at 
 Andersonville, some as thorough fiends as have 
 lived since William Kidd died, and some so false 
 we were compelled to thin them out by hanging 
 six of them. 
 
 Speaking of Dr. White, the medical director at 
 Andersonville, reminds me that one of our writers 
 on Andersonville says that "sixty barrels of whisky 
 were received by him in August, 1864, for medi- 
 cal purposes and that the whisky was drunk by 
 the medical director and his friends."* Pretty 
 tall drinking! 
 
 * "A Narrative of Andersonville," pp. 104, 105. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 "the dead-line" and the death of "poll 
 parrot" 
 
 I think that it was about the first of May that 
 a Heutenant with a squad of negroes began to put 
 up a railing fifteen feet from the stockade. If I 
 am n ot mistaken the lieutenant's name was Davis. 
 rrSey took boards about six inches wide, such as 
 are used in fence building, and set posts into the 
 ground every fifteen feet and nailed the boards 
 on top of the posts. This was known as the 
 "dead-lin e." \ l was absent when, in the course of 
 their buildmg, they reached our quarters, and 
 when I returned I found my comrades very much 
 distressed and alarmed. They told me the lieu- 
 tenant and his men were there; that the officer 
 measured the ground from the palisade and they 
 had found that our house was three feet within the 
 prescribed limit of the dead-line; that it was but 
 twelve feet from the stockade, and that the officer 
 ordered them to move it at once. This was in- 
 deed a calamity. 
 
 We were discussing the matter when the young 
 oflicer appeared on the scene. We called his at- 
 tention to the crowded condition of the ground 
 about us. It was the most desirable part of the 
 
86 "The Dead-Line;" Death of "PoU Parrot" 
 
 camp and in our Immediate vicinity there was not 
 a square foot of unoccupied ground. 
 
 "I cannot help it," said he; "I am carrying out 
 my orders, and if you cannot move the cabin you 
 will have tO' take it down." 
 
 There was no use expostulating with him. He 
 left, giving us an hour, I think it was, to move 
 our habitation. We were speechless. He re- 
 turned at the specified time, flew in a rage to find 
 that we had done nothing, and used some very 
 strong English. 
 
 "If you care to retain your building material," 
 exclaimed the irate officer, "you had better get it 
 away from here in the next twenty minutes. I will 
 give you that time." He looked at his watch with 
 the declaration that he would return in twenty 
 minutes, and if the building was not moved that 
 he would confiscate the whole thing. 
 
 Some of the boys suggested taking the house 
 down and cutting off a few feet of the logs and 
 rebuilding it inside of the dead-line ; but this plan 
 was not feasible and I told them that I would try 
 to see Captain WIrz at once, and In case the Lieu- 
 tenant returned before I did to explain matters to 
 him, and try and stay his hand. 
 
 The boys were dismayed at the situation, and 
 doubted their ability to do anything with the of- 
 ficer In the mean time, and doubted still more that 
 the Captain would help us. 
 
 I made as good time as a sick man could to the 
 south gate, and fortunately I saw WIrz just enter- 
 
"The Dead-Iilne;" Death of "Poll Parrot" 87 
 
 ing it. I saluted and said, "Captain, we are in se- 
 rious trouble at our quarters, and we want you to 
 help us out. I hate to bother you but you are our 
 only refuge now." "What is the trouble?" "Be- 
 fore the stockade was completed a sergeant in 
 Colonel Person's regiment stationed here directed 
 us while building our cabin to be sure and not 
 build it closer to the stockade than twelve feet. 
 We followed his instructions, and to make sure of 
 it the end nearest to the wall is twelve feet from 
 it. Now the lieutenant building the dead-line has 
 ordered us to move it or take it down. The space 
 adjacent to the cabin is so densely crowded that it 
 is impossible to move It intact, and we cannot take 
 it down as we do not know where to locate it." 
 "Can you not shorten it in some way?" I ex- 
 plained why that could not be done. "Where are 
 you located?" "Almost directly under sentry box 
 number 35." "Very well, I'll go up with you and 
 see for myself." He walked with me to our quar- 
 ters, two hundred and fifty yards southeast of the 
 gate. 
 
 When we came in sight of our house I saw that 
 it was still there and the boys were all outside, the 
 most of them sitting on the "piazza." They arose 
 as we approached, and I could see surprise on their 
 countenances. Wirz looked the situation over care- 
 fully while we were narrowly eyeing him, and I 
 caught the faintest glimmer of a smile on his face 
 as he said, pointing with his hand to the extreme 
 southerly end of the cabin, "Who sleeps there?" 
 
88 "The Dead-I/me;" Death of "PoU Parrot" 
 
 "That is where I sleep, Captain," said I. "Well," 
 said he, "you must be careful and not get up in- 
 side the dead-line." Then he went on, looking 
 at all of us, "Men, let your quarters stand, and 
 when Lieutenant Davis returns tell him that such 
 are my orders, and not to interfere with your 
 cabin. He can make a short offset in his line and 
 go by without much trouble." 
 
 We heartily thanked him, and Billy Bowles was 
 very enthusiastic over the outcome of the affair, 
 and yelled, "Hurrah for Captain Wirz !" and we 
 and some of our neighbors heartily joined in the 
 cheering. 
 
 The cabin stood where it was originally built. 
 It was not moved or taken down. This fact will 
 be remembered by many ex-prisoners who are now 
 living, as this incident was often referred to and 
 discussed at the prison. We had the distinction 
 of occupying the only house, cabin, hut, quarters, 
 or habitation within the dead-line at Anderson- 
 ville! 
 
 There was no question about the dead-line it- 
 self. It was, during the summer of 1864 at An- 
 dersonville, a stubborn fact. The railing was a 
 well-defined sign of demarcation. It was the vis- 
 ible warning of "thus far anH ^r^ f^rfhpr^" and 
 every prisoner within the inclosure knew it. They 
 well knew that to get within that proscribed space 
 meant death at the hands of the sentries, and 
 there..,.ww;£.. prisoners killed ii w » t!bei..f T,i i ia j :Js inside 
 the dead-line at'"An3ersonville. This was wrone. 
 
 '""•WlfTM^, 
 
"The I>ead-Iiine;" Death of "PoU Parrot" 89 
 
 It was cruel. It was also cruel to shoot prisoners 
 within the inclosures of Point Pleasant and John- 
 son's Island, where they were confined. In this 
 peaceful time, to the casual observer, the shoot- 
 ing down of poor, often sick, helpless prisoners of 
 war inside an inclosure must seem the very height 
 of barbarity. Nevertheless, it was done at every 
 
 prison in the North and in the S oiJI h: Wrli W t 
 
 be e H "foT ' tm i yyrat8"deMm !!gt!!g'TWfe South without 
 discovering "the beam in our own eye." It is a 
 clear case of those "living in glass houses." But 
 we have been imitating Aesop's wolf at the stream. 
 As Sherman says, "War is hell." 
 
 I have read articles written by commandants of 
 Northern prisons setting forth the fact that the 
 rebels killed were not fired at until the sentries had 
 first ordered them to halt or fall b^ek. I believe 
 
 thirTrBrmT"Sls;S!Stn^^r3r^ 
 
 On the other hand, while there were Union 
 prisoners deliberately shot down during the day- 
 time inside the dead-line at Andersonville, or 
 "Camp Sumter," as the rebels called It, I believe 
 that the sentries, before firing, ordered them back. 
 That was my understanding of the matter, as it 
 was also the understanding of the other prisoners. 
 We understood that the order, "Prisoner, halt; 
 get back beyond the line !" or a similar command 
 must precede the act of firing. 
 
 There were well defined "neighborhoods" at 
 Andersonville, and one day In the latter part of 
 July a prisoner In our "neighborhood" was killed 
 
go "The Dead-Iiine;" Death of "PoU Parrot" 
 
 by a sentry. I am not sure whether it was the 
 sentry at post 34 or 36; but at any rate, the ru- 
 mor had it that the sentry fired without a word of 
 warning and killed the unfortunate prisoner. The 
 charge was contradicted by others living near the 
 sentry box. It was also stated that the poor pris- 
 oner was partially deaf and did not hear the 
 warning, and from his intense suffering he had be- 
 come somewhat demented. At any rate, he was 
 killed. I talked with Captain Wirz about the af- 
 fair and from what he said I was satisfied that his 
 orders to the guards were not to fire unless the 
 prisoner failed to halt or return beyond the line. 
 Said he, "I will investigate this matter." The 
 sentry who had done the shooting was not seen at 
 the post afterward. 
 
 Some of our writers boldly assert that no com- 
 mand to halt or warning was given before the 
 shooting; that sentries were keenly on the alert 
 to find a prisoner inside the line to fire on him, be- 
 cause for every prisoner killed within the dead-line 
 the sentry was entitled to a thirty days' furlough. 
 These same writers claim that prisoners with a leg 
 or arm within the dreaded inclosure, and even the 
 prisoner who would inadvertently place his hand 
 on the railing, was killed. This is a monstrous 
 charge ! 
 
 One of those Andersonville writers, the loudest 
 in maintaining that no warning was given by the 
 sentries, rather stumbles in his statements, for he 
 relates a case of a deaf prisoner who "did not hear 
 
"The Dead-Iiine;" Death of "PoU Parrot" gj 
 
 the command to halt" and "was ruthlessly shot 
 down." 
 
 The report of the "thirty days' furlough" for 
 the sentry who shot a man within the dead-line 
 was rife at Andersonville, but it was the easiest 
 thing imaginable to start a rumor. No statement, 
 no matter how weird, wonderful, improbable, wild 
 or incredible, once started in the prison, would fail 
 to have its couriers, its relators, and its believers. 
 
 We had a small-pox scare among the prisoners 
 quite early in the history of the prison. There 
 were a few sick within the inclosure who were 
 brought down by the terrible malady. These per- 
 sons were hurriedly and promptly taken from us 
 and isolated ; a commendable act upon the part of 
 Captain Wirz and the medical men. 
 
 There was an order for prompt and immediate 
 vaccination, but the prisoners who could show that 
 they had been treated shortly before were not in- 
 terfered with. Others were vaccinated with fatal 
 results in many cases. Many of those were com- 
 pelled to go to the hospital, whereupon some gar- 
 rulous individual started the fire that has never 
 been quenched, viz. that there was poison in the 
 vaccine matter. The truth is, the poison was in 
 the impoverished blood of the patient, which could 
 not grapple with varioloid, and not in the vaccine 
 matter. 
 
 The so-called "dead-line" was a thing main- 
 tained in prisons, both North and South, during 
 the Civil War. The line itself was a reality, there 
 
92 "The Dead-Line;" Death of «'PoU Parrot" 
 
 was no guess-work about It. To pass beyond it and 
 to refuse or fail to halt or turn back when ordered 
 by the sentry meant death, or at the very least a 
 severe wound. The prisoner knew that he was 
 taking his life in his hands when he crossed the 
 dead-line and ignored the commands of the sentry. 
 
 I do not propose to argue as to whether it was 
 right or wrong; that it was cruel admits of no 
 denial, but it appears to be recognized by the rules 
 of war. 
 
 According to the rules of war the soldier de- 
 serting "In the face of the enemy" merits death, 
 and the soldier striking his superior officer and 
 one who knowingly and wilfully disobeys the 
 'orders of his superior officer, upon conviction by 
 court-martial, cannot expect less. 
 
 I have now given my opinion of the dead-line, 
 humble and Inconsequential though it may be; at 
 all events, authorities, both North and South, con- 
 sidered this war measure necessary. 
 
 The guards at all the prisons were but few in 
 comparison to the number of prisoners. It Is true 
 that the guards were armed, but they could have 
 been overpowered with little difficulty had there 
 not been strict discipline and certain restrictions 
 placed upon the prisoners. At the time that there 
 were more than 30,000 prisoners at Andersonville 
 I do not think the guards numbered over 800. 
 
 A great deal has been said by other writers 
 about the hundreds upon hundreds of prisoners 
 killed within the dead-line, but I say right here 
 
"The Dead-Line;" Death of "Poll Parrot" 93 
 
 that the number was few, and I deny the further 
 assertion that some were killed who only had one 
 foot accidentally outside the line or unintentionally 
 laid their hands upon the railing which marked the 
 dead-line. So far as my knowledge of Anderson- 
 ville goes, the statement is untrue. 
 
 John McElroy, who wrote "A Story of Rebel 
 Prisons," and who was a prisoner at Anderson- 
 ville, and, with the exception of Mr. Spencer, the 
 most bitter and unfair against Captain WIrz and 
 the rebels, says (pp. 156, 157) : 
 
 "The only man I ever knew to be killed by the 
 Twenty-sixth Alabama (the regiment guarding 
 Andersonville) was named Hubbard, from Chi- 
 cago, and a member of the Thirty-eighth Illinois. 
 He was continually hobbling about chattering in 
 a loud, discordant voice, saying all manner of 
 hateful and annoying things wherever he saw an 
 opportunity. This and his beak-like nose gained 
 for him the name of 'Poll Parrot' His misfor- 
 tune caused him to be tolerated where another man 
 would have been suppressed. By-and-by he gave 
 still greater cau.se for offense by his obsequiousness 
 to curry favor with Wirz, who took him outside 
 several times for purposes that were not well ex- 
 plained. Finally, some hours after Poll Parrot's 
 visits outside, a rebel officer came in with a guard 
 and proceeded with suspicious directness to a tent 
 which was the mouth of a large tunnel that a 
 hundred men or more had been quietly pushing 
 
94 "TTie Dead-Iiine;" Death of "Poll Parrot" 
 
 forward, broke the tunnel in, and took the occu- 
 pants outside for punishment. The questions that 
 demanded immediate solution then were, 'Who is 
 the traitor? Who informed the rebels?' 
 
 "Suspicion pointed very strongly to Poll Parrot. 
 By the next morning the evidence collected seemed 
 to amount to a certainty, and a crowd caught the 
 Parrot with the intention of lynching him. He 
 succeeded in breaking away from them, and ran 
 under the dead-line near where I was sitting in my 
 tent. At first it looked as if he had done this to 
 secure the protection of the guard. The latter, a 
 Twenty-sixth Alabamian, ordered him out. Poll 
 Parrot arose, put his back against the dead-line, 
 faced the guard, and said in his harsh, cackling 
 voice, 'No, I won't go out. I have lost the confi- 
 dence of my comrades and I want to die.' 
 
 "Part of the crowd were taken back by this 
 move, and felt disposed to take it as a demonstra- 
 tion of the Parrot's innocence. The rest thought 
 it was a piece of bravado because of his belief that 
 the rebels would not injure him after he had served 
 them. They renewed their yells, the guard 
 ordered the Parrot out again, but the latter, tear- 
 ing open his blouse, cackled out, 'No, I won't go; 
 fire at me, guard. There's my heart; shoot me 
 right there.' 
 
 "There was no help for it, the sentry leveled 
 his gun and fired. The charge struck the Parrot's 
 lower jaw and carried it completely away, leaving 
 his tongue and the roof of his mouth exposed. As 
 
•The Dead-ljine;" Death of "Poll Parrot" gg 
 
 he was carried back to die he wagged his tongue 
 vigorously in attempting to speak, but it was of 
 no use. 
 
 "The guard set his gun down and buried his 
 face in his hands." 
 
 The above is a garbled account. Mr. McElroy 
 states facts as far as he goes, but he doesn't go far 
 enough. 
 
 In the first place, the shooting of Hubbard oc- 
 curred at least two months after the Alabama regi- 
 ment left Andersonville — the Twenty-fifth instead 
 of the Twenty-sixth, as McElroy puts it. It was 
 was some time about the middle of June that this 
 occurred. Hubbard had lost his right leg at 
 Chickamauga and had come a prisoner to Ander- 
 sonville as early as April. He was an inoffensive, 
 garrulous creature, and on account of his almost 
 helpless condition had received favors at the hands 
 of Captain Wirz. This tunnel that Mr. McElroy 
 described was in the immediate vicinity of our 
 cabin and some of my friends were concerned in 
 the work. It was not generally known at the time, 
 but later on we ascertained the fact that the Con- 
 federate authorities had one of their men disguised 
 as a prisoner among us as a night spy. We subse- 
 quently learned he was busy spying about of nights. 
 Several tunnels were started in the prison, and it 
 was a surprise to us how readily the guard could 
 locate them. 
 
 Before our knowledge of this spy's presence and 
 
96 "The Dead-Iiine;" Death of "PoU Parrot" 
 
 work among us suspicion pointed to this prisoner 
 or that as the informer. Hence, poor Hubbard be- 
 came the victim. 
 
 My personal acquaintance with Hubbard led 
 me to believe him innocent. I walked by the side 
 of Hubbard on his way to the south gate, where he 
 was followed by the mob charging hira with being 
 a traitor and declaring that if he did not get out 
 of the stockade they would kill him. I had great 
 sympathy with the man, doubting then, as I do 
 now, that he had any knowledge of the location of 
 the tunnel. When he reached the small gate in 
 the dead line at the main entrance he pushed 
 through, disregarding the command of the sentinel 
 to halt, and sat down on the ground four or five 
 feet outside of the dead-line, out of reach of the 
 mob. Here he sat with his crutches across his lap 
 and rocked his body back and forth, bewailing his 
 fate, and when ordered back by the sentinel, with 
 the threat that If he did not go he would shoot, he 
 bared his breast and told him to shoot, that he 
 would rather be killed by him than by his own 
 comrades. / 
 
 The sentinel called for an officer, and Captain 
 Wirz appeared from the outside. Upon learning 
 the cause of the disturbance Captain Wirz talked 
 to the excited prisoners for several minutes, assur- 
 ing them that Hubbard W5is innocent; that he had 
 frequently taken him outside for recreation and 
 food, and urged them to withhold their wrath and 
 let him come back into the prison. He turned to 
 
"The Bead-Line;" Death of "Poll Parrot" gy 
 
 Hubbard and told him to go back inside, that the 
 boys would not harm him, and then he withdrew. 
 The guard ordered poor "Poll Parrot" out three 
 times, and then shot him dead, the ball passing 
 through his head and breaking his well leg. 
 
 The sentry performed this duty reluctantly. 
 He was goaded to the act by the taunts of the 
 prisoners seeking Hubbard's death, shouting to 
 him, "You are a tin soldier, a wooden soldier !" and 
 such taunts because he delayed firing. When he 
 had at length fired the fatal shot he set down his 
 musket and buried his face in his hands. 
 
 The clamor and violence of our prisoners, the 
 passion of a howling mob, drove a poor, heart- 
 broken, one-legged fellow-prisoner to his death. 
 
 Thiers, in his "History of the French Revolu- 
 tion," says " a mob is insane." I believe it. 
 
 After Hubbard died those who had been the 
 loudest crying for his death were the busiest ex- 
 plaining why and how they knew that he was inno- 
 cent. 
 
 I never could understand why Captain Wirz 
 was condemned and executed at Washington, on 
 November lo, 1865, unless it was for the murder 
 of poor "Poll Parrot." 
 
 r" Captain Wirz had no kindergarten to deal with. 
 The very fact that we were reluctantly compelled 
 to put six of our own fellow-prisoners to death in 
 order to maintain discipline shows the difficulty the 
 commandant had to grapple with. / 
 
98 "The Dead-Line;" Death of "Poll Parrot" 
 
 I have carefully read Spencer's account of the 
 court martial of Wirz, and the evidence and ad- 
 dresses of counsel for the prosecution and defense, 
 and there is not one word of evidence introduced 
 touching upon the fact that we ourselves executed 
 six of our comrades; but no one will deny that 
 this gang, possibly with one exception, richly de- 
 served death. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE STANTON POLICY 
 
 It was estimated In June that there were 20,000 
 prisoners at AndersonvIUe, and t hrough the recom- 
 
 me ndarion_j2 i...JGapt?i"-.,,.lgin,,jm were 
 
 beguaJ:a»eHJ,a£g&BUl&4iirison, which was increased 
 to about twenty-one acres. It was completed July 
 I , and was of inestimable benefit to the large num- 
 ber, which was daily being augmented. 
 
 July I was moving day for thousands of prison- 
 ers who had been cramped for sufficient room, and 
 there was a perfect stampede for the new portion. 
 It was found that the clay in the new ground was 
 suitable for the making of brick or adobe by mix- 
 ing it with water, and many of the prisoners 
 availed themselves of the opportunity to go into 
 the brickmaking business. A great many of them 
 built the walls of their huts out of this "adobe," 
 which hardened sufficiently In the sun for that pur- 
 pose. 
 
 There were all kinds of men, "good, bad, and 
 Indifferent," among the prisoners. The general 
 majority of them, however, were God-fearing men, 
 who had received religious instruction during child- 
 hood. These were desirous of forming some way 
 to hold religious meetings, but heretofore the 
 
lOO The Stanton Policy 
 
 crowded condition of the prison had interfered 
 with any such plan; but after July i hundreds of 
 the prisoners held a meeting headed by one of the 
 number named Shepard, a chaplain of the Ninety- 
 seventh Ohio. At home he had been a minister. 
 Boston._. Corbett, a corporal in a New Jersey regi- 
 ment, ^d who afterward became famous as the 
 "Sergeib/it Corbett" who shot John Wilkes Booth, 
 the assassin of Lincoln, assisted Elder Shepard in 
 this religious movement. 
 
 I well remember the text of the first sermon 
 preached by our good elder. It was: "But even 
 the very hairs of your head are numbered. Fear 
 not, therefore. Ye are of more value than many 
 sparrows." 
 
 The leaders of the "praying band," as they were 
 flippantly referred to by some of the irreligious 
 prisoners, succeeded in getting possession of a 
 spot of ground in the new part of the inclosure for 
 the purpose of holding regular religious meetings. 
 At these gatherings, which were well attended, the 
 prisoners seated themselves on the ground, and 
 after a suflicient number had assembled, some 
 would open with prayer and then Elder Shepard or 
 Corporal Corbett would preach a short sermon or 
 exhortation and close with singing and prayer. 
 These meetings did a world of good. 
 
 There was an insufficiency of medicine and of 
 nourishing food. The Federal authorities had de- 
 clared medicine contraband and the whole South 
 
The Stanton Policy lOi 
 
 was suffering for the want of quinine and other 
 necessary drugs. 
 
 But, ba d as was the physical condition of the 
 
 prisnnp.rj!^.3:brijc_m£nf.4..rlp.prps^^^^^^^ and 
 
 mQie.ȣa*al. Acclimation, unsuitable diet, and de- 
 spondency were the potent causes of disease and 
 death. 
 
 The effects of salt-meats and farinaceous food 
 without vegetables were manifest in the great 
 prevalence of scurvy. The scorbutic condition thus 
 induced modified the course of every disease, pois- 
 oned every wound, however slight, and was the 
 primary cause of those obstinate and exhausting 
 cases of dysentery which swept off thousands of our 
 poor prisoners. 
 
 As early as July Captain Wirz, at the recom- 
 mendation of the medical staff, put intO' operation 
 the brewing of "corn beer," and this was given to 
 those suffering from scurvy, and it had a most 
 salutary effect in checking the trouble, as it acted 
 as an antidote to the scorbutic poison. The beer 
 was made from corn meal and also from whole 
 corn being scalded in hot water and a mash made 
 of it ; some yeast was added to it tO' promote fer- 
 mentation, and in a few days a sharp acid beverage 
 was produced, very wholesome and palatable. 
 This same corn beer was made within the stockade 
 by the prisoners, but not to the extent that it was 
 manufactured on the outside, nor of so good a 
 quality. 
 
 Captain Wirz did not rest here. He lent as- 
 
I02 The Stanton Policy 
 
 sistance to some of the prisoners within the in- 
 closure to make the beer. A prisoner known as 
 "Limber Jim," afterward our chief of police, ob- 
 tained a barrel or small tub and some utensils from 
 Wirz and started quite a little distillery. 
 
 I have gone into the corn beer subject at con- 
 siderable length for the reason that none of the 
 Andersonville writers have had the fairness to 
 mention Captain Wirz's name in connection with 
 the subject. It wouldn't do even to hint that Wirz 
 was instrumental in introducing a beverage that 
 was so beneficial to the poor, sick prisoners. 
 
 But all that Wirz and his staff of medical men 
 could do failed to stop the ravages of disease and 
 death. 
 
 The report was brought to us by the incoming 
 prisoners that the authorities had about shut down 
 on exchanging prisoners. "Who enter here leave 
 hope behind" was now fully exemplified. As yet 
 it was only a surmise, but a few weeks later, or 
 about the first of August, we heard the cold- 
 blooded and atrocious ukase from Edward M. 
 Stanton, that exchange of prisoners was at an end. 
 "We will not exchange able-bodied men for skele- 
 tons," and "We do not propose to reinforce the 
 rebel army by exchanging prisoners." 
 
 Ah, now it was a certainty. We realized that 
 
 we were forsaken by our Government. The war 
 
 office at Washington preferred to let us die rather 
 
 than exchange us I 
 
 - The refusal upon the part of our Government 
 
The Stanton Policy 1 03 
 
 to exchange prisoners was now an assured fact. 
 The sick lost hope and died. Those in better con- 
 dition physically became disheartened and sick. 
 It is no wonder that during August nearly 3,000 
 prisoners died at Andersonville. 
 
 The natural local peculiarities at Andersonville 
 were not, as I have explained, of themselves of a 
 character to induce any excessive mortality. The 
 spot was selected mainly with a view to its salub- 
 rity, and this is abundantly proved by the fact that 
 very few of our men who were out on parole died. 
 There were about one hundred on parole during 
 June, July and August, doing all kinds of work. 
 
 Albert D. Richardson, in his "Field, Dungeon, 
 and Escape," written as early as 1865, says 
 (P-417): 
 
 "The Government held a large excess of prison- 
 ers, and the rebels were anxious to exchange man 
 for man; but our authorities acted upon the cold- 
 blooded theory of the Secretary of War, that we 
 could not afford to give well-fed, rugged men for 
 invalids and skeletons." 
 
 Again, on page 457 : 
 
 "Those 5,000 loyal graves at Salisbury will ever 
 remain fitting monuments of rebel cruelty and the 
 atrocious inhumanity of Edwin M. Stanton, who 
 steadfastly refused to exchange prisoners." 
 
104 '^^ Stanton Policy 
 
 Melvin Grigsby, a prisoner at Andersonville, in 
 his history of that prison, says (p. 138) : 
 
 "I do not know who was responsible for that 
 fearful blunder, but a blunder it was [the refusal 
 to exchange prisoners]. The prison authorities 
 [at Andersonville] permitted the prisoners to send 
 to Washington three of their number, chosen for 
 that purpose, who took with them a petition to the 
 President asking them that an immediate exchange 
 be agreed tO' on the terms proposed by the rebels, 
 and setting out fully and plainly the suffering that 
 was being endured and the loss of life daily occur- 
 ring. This petition was signed by thousands of 
 prisoners, and is probably now on file among the 
 records of the War Department. There are many 
 thousand gravestones at Andersonville which 
 would not be there, and many thousand widows 
 and orphans caused by the mistaken zeal and cold- 
 blooded principles of those in authority at that 
 time. 
 
 "When it was all over and thousands of the 
 poor, emaciated creatures that survived were sent 
 home, and scattered through the land, and the 
 truth became known, and Harper's Weekly and 
 other illustrated papers sent out pictures of the 
 starved heroes, then a storm of indignation arose 
 which threatened to burst over the heads of the 
 misguided statesmen who had refused to exchange. 
 Then something must be done, Andersonville must 
 be avenged ; the storm must be averted, and some- 
 
The Stanton Policy 105 
 
 thing was done ; AndersonvIUe was avenged, Wirz 
 was hung." 
 
 This is exactly as it reads in Mr. Grigsby's book. 
 It appears that he started out to be honest and tell 
 the truth, but toward the end evidently weakened, 
 or the thought occurred to him that in the one 
 hundred and thirty-seven pages of his work he had 
 denounced Captain Wirz unstintedly, placing the 
 whole blame of Andersonville solely and simply 
 upon that unfortunate man. 
 
 John W. Urban, another Andersonville pris- 
 oner, who wrote "Battlefield and Prison Pen," 
 says (p. 381) : 
 
 "We could not help contrasting this with our 
 miserable condition; and is it strange that we 
 sometimes felt embittered against the Government 
 for not making a greater effort to release us ? But 
 as true as needle to the north pole, so were the 
 most of the Union soldiers confined in Southern 
 prisons to the Government they had sworn to de- 
 fend. They might feel themselves slighted, neg- 
 lected, or even deserted by the Government and 
 among themselves be tempted to say some bitter 
 things ; but a word or insinuation to that effect from 
 their enemies would excite their ire and indignation 
 to the utmost and they were always ready to defend 
 the Government from the charge that it was not 
 doing all it could to release them. It was, how- 
 ever, a sad fact that hundreds died with the fear 
 
io6 The Stanton Policy 
 
 haunting them that It was so. Men who had 
 cheerfully faced death on many a battlefield, lay 
 down and died broken-hearted as the terrible sus- 
 picion forced Itself into their minds that the Gov- 
 ernment they loved so well, and fought so hard to 
 save, was indifferent to their sad fate." 
 
 Exchange was at an end. Consternation 
 reigned. Terror, amazement and despair were 
 plainly depicted upon the countenances of the poor, 
 forsaken prisoners. 
 
 Many of the prisoners, being but human, raised 
 their clenched, trembling hands toward heaven and 
 with fearful oaths cursed the authorities at Wash- 
 ington, the Government, the North and the South, 
 and the day they were born. 
 
 Oh, what a hatred was then engendered for our 
 Secretary of War! Ex-soldiers, North and South, 
 and non-combatants and civilians may talk and 
 think as they please, and notwithstanding all that 
 has been said pro and con, Edwin M. Stanton at 
 that time was classed In their hatred with Winder, 
 Wirz, Davis, and Barrett. It is true that after we 
 were finally released we tried to forget, and for 
 policy sake, I believe, either kept silent or perhaps 
 joined In the clamor against Wirz. 
 
 Then there was quibbling and subterfuge. 
 "The South refused to exchange a negro prisoner 
 for a rebel prisoner"; "The rebels would not ex- 
 change on an equitable basis as to relative rank of 
 officers"; "The rebel Government resorted to 
 
The Stanton Policy 107 
 
 frivolous pretexts to delay exchange, as death was 
 doing its work at Andersonville, Salisbury, and 
 other prisons." The Confederacy would not con- 
 cede this nor agree to that, and other similar 
 theories were given. There was charge and 
 refutation ; words, words, words. 
 
 Aesop relates that a wolf and a lamb once 
 simultaneously went to a stream to drink, where- 
 upon the wolf accused the lamb of roiling the 
 water to prevent him from drinking. "How can 
 that be," said the lamb, "when you are above me 
 and the water flows from you to me?" "Oh, 
 that's a subterfuge," replied the wolf, "and at any 
 rate your tribe has always injured the poor wolves, 
 never allowing them to live in peace, and I shall 
 now punish you for it." So he killed the lamb and 
 felt appeased. Allowing that' it was true that the 
 Confederate authorities refused to exchange negro 
 soldiers for rebel soldiers, did it better the condi- 
 tion of the poor negro held as a prisoner to have 
 no exchange of white Union soldiers ? 
 
 Grigsby, on page 137 of his Andersonville 
 story, says: 
 
 "As a matter of pure principle this was 
 probably correct, but as a matter of public 
 policy and of justice and mercy to the white 
 soldier, who had enlisted before there were 
 any freed negroes, it was all wrong. If there had 
 been any considerable number of negro soldiers 
 in the prisons suffering with the others, then there 
 
io8 The Stanton Policy 
 
 would have been a vital principle of justice as well 
 as honor at stake, and the white prisoners them- 
 selves would have been the last men in the world 
 to have sacrificed that principle in order to secure 
 their own liberty and lives. There was not a 
 negro soldier in Andersonville or in any other 
 prison for a considerable time. When they were 
 captured they were either sent back to their old 
 masters or put to work on rebel fortifications, and 
 they were not starved and did not suffer. Their 
 condition as prisoners was little worse than it had 
 always been before the war. Stanton and others 
 who insisted on that point, might as well have in- 
 sisted that every black in the South, whose liberty 
 had been granted him by the Emancipation Procla- 
 mation, and who was detained by his old master, 
 should be a subject of exchange." 
 
 When the Andersonville emissaries returned 
 from Washington there was not one word about 
 the exchange of the negro soldiers being in the way 
 of our release. It was not then thought of. I 
 know that for the past forty-two years that matter 
 has been published broadcast In the North as a 
 reason why we were not exchanged. 
 
 Grigsby is right in this. The Washington au- 
 thorities had concluded to stop the exchange be- 
 fore there were any negro prisoners. 
 
 General Grant in his "Memoirs" bluntly but 
 honestly gives the reason for not exchanging pris- 
 oners. It seems that it was decided at Washington 
 
The Stanton Policy 100 
 
 that exchange meant the reinforcement of the rebel 
 army, and he goes on to explain that the exchanged 
 rebel soldier behind barricades and fortifications 
 fighting on the defensive was equivalent to three 
 Union soldiers attacking him. 
 
 This was the Stanton policy, and if this atrocious 
 and inhuman doctrine is anyway meritorious, the 
 "War Secretary" is entitled to the credit. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 EXECUTION OF THE RAIDERS 
 
 Early in May it developed that the prison camp 
 was infested with an organized band of thieves 
 and cutthroats who committed their depredations 
 upon sick and helpless prisoners. At first they con- 
 fined their operations to the darkness of night, but, 
 becoming emboldened, stronger in number and or- 
 ganization, they got so they did not hesitate to 
 attack their fellow-prisoners in the daytime. The 
 leaders of this band of "raiders," as we called 
 them, were thieves, bounty-jumpers, "wharf-rats," 
 and graduates generally from the schools of cor- 
 ruption in large cities. 
 
 This band was daily being augmented as the 
 number of prisoners increased, and by the first of 
 June It seemed from their activity and their au- 
 dacity that more than half the able-bodied prison- 
 ers belonged to the dreaded gang, and as yet there 
 was no organization to oppose them. 
 
 Robberies became common even in the daytime. 
 Men were robbed of everything of value — money, 
 watches, rings, blankets, clothing, and even of 
 their scanty rations. The gang had the camp in- 
 timidated, and seemed to have such absolute con- 
 trol that the report went about the camp that WIrz 
 was in league with them. This I never for a 
 
Execution of the Raiders m 
 
 moment believed. A reign of terror existed. We 
 were a large and growing community without a 
 government. 
 
 By the earnest request of the leading prisoners 
 in my neighborhood, on June 7 I sought and ob- 
 tained an interview with Wirz. I explained the 
 situation briefly and asked his advice and assist- 
 ance. After considering a moment, he said, "I 
 understand the condition and have been wonder- 
 ing what the outcome would be. I can see only 
 one way now. If you men can organize a sufficient 
 force to arrest those scoundrels, and bring them to 
 the gates, letting me know when you begin opera- 
 tions, and when you are ready to turn them over, I 
 will arrange to have guards to take charge of 
 them. Then you can organize a court of some 
 kind, get your witnesses and men to take charge of 
 the prosecution and defense, and I will let you 
 prisoners take charge of the whole matter. You 
 can then come outside and try them. Now, if you 
 prisoners conclude to undertake this, and you cer- 
 tainly ought tO' do something, keep me apprised of 
 your progress and I will be only too glad to assist 
 you as far as in my power. I will at once present 
 the matter to General Winder." 
 
 As to whether or not I was the first prisoner to 
 approach Captain Wirz relative to this matter, I 
 do not know, but he acted as if the subject had not 
 been broached to him before. 
 
 It was evident that Wirz gave this his prompt 
 attention, by the following general order, which is 
 a matter of record and speaks for itself : 
 
112 Execution of the Raiders 
 
 "Camp Sumter, Andersonville, Ga., 
 
 "June 30, 1864. 
 "General Orders No. 57. 
 
 "A gang of evil-disposed persons among the 
 prisoners of war at this post having banded them- 
 selves together for the purpose of assaulting, mur- 
 dering, and robbing their fellow-prisoners, and 
 having already committed all of these deeds, it be- 
 comes necessary to adopt measures to protect the 
 lives and property of the prisoners against the 
 acts of these men, and in order that this may be 
 accomplished, the well-disposed prisoners may, and 
 they are hereby authorized to, establish a court 
 among themselves for the trial and punishment of 
 such offenders. 
 
 "On such trials the charges will be distinctly 
 made with specifications setting forth time and 
 place, a copy of which will be furnished the 
 accused. 
 
 "The whole proceeding will be kept in writing, 
 all the testimony will be fairly written out as 
 nearly in the words of the witnesses as possible. 
 
 "The proceedings, findings, and sentence in each 
 case will be sent to the commanding officer for 
 record, and if found in order and proper, the 
 sentence will be ordered for execution. 
 
 "By order of Brig. Gen. John H. Winder. 
 
 "W. A. Winder, 
 "Asst. Adjutant General." 
 
E/xecution of the Raiders 
 
 "3 
 
 Not a solitary writer of the many stories of 
 Andersonville that I have read since the war has 
 been disposed to do justice to Captain Wirz, and 
 they have done him a great injustice in this matter. 
 So far as I know, the idea that brought about the 
 overthrow of the murderous raiders came from 
 Wirz himself; and it is certain that the efforts of 
 "Limber Jim" (James Laughlin), Key, Corri- 
 gan, Larkin, Johnson, and others, of the "law and 
 order" organization, and of the police force, all of 
 whom deserve great credit in arresting the 
 "raiders," would have been fruitless but for the co- 
 operation of Wirz. 
 
 From this time on the great question was how 
 to meet and break up the thieving organization, 
 but no real action was taken until the last of June. 
 It is -my recollection that the police organization 
 was perfected on July i. The "raiders" were not 
 idle. They knew of the character and scope of 
 our work as soon as we began. On July i Captain 
 Wirz was notified the work of arresting suspects 
 would begin the following day, July 2. 
 
 During three days, July 2, 3 and 4, we arrested 
 one hundred and seventy-five men and turned them 
 over to the guards at the south gate. There were 
 many witnesses, and the trial lasted six days, and 
 resulted in the conviction of six on the charge of 
 murder in the first degree. These men were sen- 
 tenced to be hanged July 1 1 . Their names were as 
 follows: Charles Curtis, Company A, Fifth 
 
II A Execution of the Raiders 
 
 Rhode Island Infantry; Pat Delaney, Company 
 E, Eighty-third Pennsylvania Volunteers; F. Sulli- 
 van, Seventy-second New York Volunteers; A. 
 Muer, of the United States Navy; J. Sarsfield, 
 One Hundred and Forty-fourth New York Volun- 
 teers, and Wm. Collins, Company D, Eighty- 
 eighth Pennsylvania Infantry. Collins was known 
 in the camp as "Mosby," having received the 
 sobriquet from his daring and rushing proclivities. 
 Had he exhibited the same spirit of dare-deviltry 
 on the field of battle that he did in waylaying his 
 fellow-prisoners it might have redounded to his 
 military distinction. 
 
 Twenty-five of the convicted men were sentenced 
 to wear ball and chain during their imprisonment. 
 
 One of the most startling developments to me 
 in this trial was the conviction of Pat Delaney of 
 murder. We had been neighbors in our prison life 
 for many months, both at Belle Isle and at Ander- 
 sonville. He was sent from Belle Isle with the 
 same detachment that my comrades were. He 
 was always ready to help others and appeared to 
 take great pleasure in doing some kind act for my 
 comrades and myself. He appeared always to 
 have money and plenty to eat, and he was extreme- 
 ly generous with both. I was under many obliga- 
 tions to him, and I always regarded him as a brave, 
 generous Irishman. A chapter could be written on 
 the generous qualities of this unfortunate man. I 
 sought to save him, but was confronted with over- 
 whelming testimony of his guilt. To me it looked 
 
Execution of the Raiders 
 
 "5 
 
 like a case of "poor dog Tray." It was agreed 
 upon beforehand among the regulators that the 
 guilty would have to take their medicine. 
 
 The court conducting the trial was regularly or- 
 ganized and officered, and the proceedings were 
 regularly recorded, with the intention of making a 
 full report later to the Government. 
 
 On the morning of the i ith a team loaded with 
 materials for the gallows was sent in by Wirz, and 
 our men, who were carpenters, erected the gallows 
 in the street seventy-five yards east from the dead- 
 line at the south gate. 
 
 A solid mass of prisoners gathered about the 
 place, and at two o'clock Wirz came in riding his 
 gray horse, at the head of the six doomed men, 
 who were heavily guarded. The condemned men, 
 tied together, walked in double file, Delaney and 
 Curtis in advance. At the foot of the platform 
 the Captain gave the command "halt," and turn- 
 ing toward us he said, "Here, men, I return these 
 prisoners to you in as good condition as I received 
 them. I have carried out my part of the agree- 
 ment, and now whatever you may do with these 
 men I must remind you that the Confederate Gov- 
 ernment is in no way responsible. You will do 
 with them as you please, and may God have mercy 
 on you and them." 
 
 With all McElroy's prejudice against Wirz he 
 cannot strip this speech of its evident fairness. 
 His version of the incident, given in his story of 
 
Il6 Execution of the Raiders 
 
 Andersonville, is different, I know, but I was stand- 
 ing at this time within a few feet of the gallows.^ 
 
 After turning the culprits over to the police, 
 Wirz and his guard withdrew, and I heard Curtis 
 say, "Delaney, what do you propose to do about 
 this? As for me, I am going to make a break." 
 At this he slipped the cord from his wrist, and 
 broke through the dense crowd of prisoners like a 
 mad bull. His attempted escape created great ex- 
 citement, and a shell or two went singing over the 
 prison, I presume to remind us that our guards 
 were ready for business and would allow no stam- 
 pede toward the gate. Laughlin (Limber Jim), 
 the sheriff or marshal of the day, despatched sev- 
 eral of the police after Curtis, and the hangman 
 led the other five up the steps onto the platform. 
 They were placed on the trap under the cross-bar, 
 from which were dangling six nooses. The con- 
 demned men were placed in position and each 
 noose adjusted. Curtis was soon brought back and 
 placed in position, and all was ready; but there 
 was some delay, as each one of the condemned had 
 some message to send to wife, mother, or friend. 
 Some of them did not expect to die. I do not 
 think that Delaney thought that the "regulators" 
 would take extreme measures, for he smiled as the 
 noose was placed around his neck. Laughlin 
 ordered the caps (meal bags) to be drawn over 
 their heads. The trap was sprung and five of 
 them swung into eternity. The rope around Col- 
 lins's neck broke and he fell to the ground, appar- 
 
Sxecation of the Raiders ny 
 
 ently unhurt. He rose to his feet and begged 
 piteously for his life, but Laughlin laid his hand 
 on his shoulder and said, "Collins, words are use- 
 less now. You are condemned to die and die you 
 must." Then Collins regained his composure, 
 mounted the steps with firmness, took his place 
 beside the quivering, dangling bodies, and died 
 without a word. 
 
 After Delaney was sentenced I had a talk with 
 him. Said he, "Jim, I am innocent. I'll admit 
 that I associated with the marauders; that I re- 
 ceived money from them because I was hungry and 
 starving. You know I had money, but I never as- 
 saulted a man nor stole a dollar; but here I am 
 about to die. Ah, that is what comes of keeping 
 bad company." 
 
 He sent for Father Hamilton, and that evening 
 received extreme unction at the hands of the priest. 
 
 It was reported, but I did not know of it person- 
 ally, that Father Hamilton begged for the life of 
 Delaney. 
 
 Father Hamilton, a Southerner, was greatly be- 
 loved by the prisoners. He was kind to all of us. 
 Catholic and Protestant alike. When we would 
 ask him if there was any news of exchanging pris- 
 oners he would say, "Poor men, I have given my 
 word not to communicate any information," and 
 he would sadly shake his head and turn away. 
 
 Those marauders had even murdered fellow- 
 prisoners in quest of booty. This was proved be- 
 yond doubt at the trial by good and reliable eye- 
 
1 18 Execution of the Raiders 
 
 witnesses. More than one man lost his life by try- 
 ing to defend himself and protect his property. 
 The witnesses had by threats of intimidation kept 
 silent, and moreover they "had troubles of their 
 own" to occupy their minds. 
 
 During the "reign of terror" the gang was so 
 powerful in numbers and strength of organization 
 that it controlled things and operated with a high 
 hand. It was a terrible state of afEairs. 
 
 One morning shortly after daylight, while on 
 my way to the creek to wash, I came across a 
 prisoner, not more than three hundred feet from 
 our quarters, lying on his back dead. He had his 
 throat cut, evidently with a razor, as that was the 
 weapon usually used by the raiders. 
 
 But the terrible uncontrolled dominion of the 
 thug and murderer was at an end. We could 
 breathe easier, and within the lines could go and 
 come as we pleased day or night. Prior to the or- 
 ganization of the regulators we were constantly on 
 the lookout, and dared not venture from our 
 quarters after dark; for after dark the terrible 
 marauder had full swing. 
 
 Those who were acquitted by the court were yet 
 suspected guilty by the body of prisoners, and when 
 they were turned back into the prison they were 
 obliged to run the gauntlet between two lines of 
 their fellow-prisoners, who showered upon them so 
 many blows that three died from the injuries thus 
 received. I took no hand in this business; it 
 seemed to me the height of brutality. I had no 
 
Eixecntion of the Raiders 
 
 119 
 
 doubt at the time that some of those punished were 
 innocent, but, however cruel, the great majority of 
 them richly deserved what they got. "Limber 
 Jim" (or Laughlin) took a prominent part in pun- 
 ishing the offenders. His brother had been robbed 
 and killed by the raiders. 
 
 The men that were tried and punished had hun- 
 dreds of friends and sympathizers among the pris- 
 oners, and July 11, 12 and 13 things looked omin- 
 ous in the stockade. Threats were openly made 
 and prisoners were massing toward opposite sides. 
 
 It was thought best among the regulators to ask 
 Captain Wirz to parole Sergeant Key, Corri- 
 gan, "Limber Jim," and the hangmen who offi- 
 ciated at the execution, as a precautionary measure. 
 This was done. Had they remained among us 
 they would doubtless have been killed. 
 
 On the morning of July 14 the dead body of a 
 prisoner named Heffron was found near the south 
 gate. He was a prominent witness against the 
 raiders, and one who had testified in the daytime. 
 Night sessions of the trial had been held and it 
 was a favorite time for witnesses for the prosecu- 
 tion to put in an appearance. 
 
 For a few days the situation looked gloomy 
 indeed. The reign of terror threatened to grow 
 even more frightful. 
 
 During the summer months at Andersonville 
 there was a feeling between the "Eastern" and 
 "Western" soldiers which in some instances 
 amounted almost to hatred. Key, Corrigan, 
 
120 Execution of the Raiders 
 
 Laughlin — "Limber Jim," and Larkin were from 
 the West. 
 
 The raiders were now without a leader, and the 
 hanging of six of their prominent members cowed 
 them almost into submission; but had there been 
 one of them possessed with a daring and audacity 
 of Curtis or Collins on July 12 or 13 there would 
 have been a battle in the prison in which no doubt 
 many men would have been killed and wounded. 
 It would have been a battle which the guards 
 would have been powerless to suppress. 
 
 Meanwhile we were not idle, but kept up and 
 added to our organization. In this we had the ad- 
 vantage of the raiders and their friends, for on the 
 1 2th and 13th they contented themselves with 
 uttering threats and assaulting some of the regu- 
 lators. 
 
 After Key left. Sergeant A. R. Hill, of the One 
 Hundredth Ohio, was elected as our chief. He 
 was a large, strong, and powerful man, twenty- 
 eight or thirty years of age, and came into promi- 
 nence at Belle Isle by "licking" Jack Oliver, the 
 conceded champion among us. 
 
 Hill appointed several hundred policemen, who 
 had secret passwords, and signal whistles to sum- 
 mon help. For the first few days of the Hill ad- 
 ministration there was much disturbance and sev- 
 eral fights, but the victory was on the side of the 
 regulators, and In a few days quiet and order 
 reigned. 
 
Execution of the Raiders 121 
 
 The marauders were subdued, a number were 
 punished, and "raiding" was at an end. 
 
 After Wirz, those entitled particularly to the 
 credit of bringing about order and tranquilizing 
 affairs were Sergeant Key, of an Illinois regiment; 
 Laughlin, Larkin, Corrigan, Johnson, and others 
 whose names I do not recall. 
 
 My reason for going into this matter to con- 
 siderable length is that the other writers have 
 treated the affair so meagerly and have withheld 
 the credit due to Wirz. 
 
 I have at hand five histories of Andersonville. 
 Some of the writers dismiss the subject with a para- 
 graph. None, except McElroy, gives the names of 
 the men hanged. None, except Kellogg and 
 Urban, gives any credit to Wirz, if credit it can be 
 called. Both state the same thing, and I quote 
 from Urban's "Battlefield and Prison Pen (pp. 
 326, 327): 
 
 "Robert H. Kellogg, sergeant-major of the Six- 
 teenth Connecticut Volunteers, who was in Ander- 
 sonville at the time, and who is the author of an 
 interesting work called 'Life and Death in Rebel 
 Prisons,' writes of that affair in the following 
 words [speaking of prisoners daily coming in 
 plentifully supplied with money, jewelry, etc.] : 
 'These newcomers afforded the raiders, or camp 
 robbers, fresh opportunities to continue their work. 
 They seized upon one of these and it soon proved 
 to be a robbery in earnest. After severely beating 
 
122 Execution of the Raiders 
 
 and cutting his head they took his watch and $175 
 in money. He entered a complaint to Captain 
 Wirz, and the whole camp being completely 
 aroused, collected around with clubs and began to 
 arrest the gang as fast as possible.' " 
 
 I refrain from further quotation, except to 
 prove "out of their own mouths" that their his- 
 tories are misleading. 
 
 Urban says again (pp. 330, 331) : 
 
 "Hid in the ground where the villains stayed 
 were found watches, money, and different kinds of 
 weapons; also the body of a man the miscreants 
 had put out of the way." 
 
 That statement is all right, but the following 
 statement is all wrong (p. 331) : 
 
 "The valuables were taken possession of by the 
 rebels, who no doubt rejoiced at the proceedings, 
 as it not only enriched themselves but also weak- 
 ened their enemies." 
 
 Every article, so far as I know, that was iden- 
 tified by a prisoner at the trial, was turned over 
 to the owner. 
 
 Certain authors like Richardson and Kellogg 
 allege that a most scrutinizing and careful search 
 was made at all the rebel prisons, and that every 
 article, valuable or otherwise, was taken from pris- 
 
Execation of the Baiders 123 
 
 oners and never returned ; that it was robbery on 
 the part of rebel officers and guards. 
 
 Now for a little circumstantial or presumptive 
 evidence to the contrary. 
 
 The marauders — our fellow-prisoners — at An- 
 dersonville robbed their fellow-prisoners of thou- 
 sands of dollars, and also more than a score of 
 watches, besides jewelry of various kinds and de- 
 scriptions. 
 
 How about, "After it was known that there 
 were thieves operating, men took off their watch- 
 chains and watch-cords on account of the industry 
 of the pick-pockets." 
 
 Were the rebel officers and guards unable to see 
 watch-chains and watch-cords ? 
 
 Let us hear the evidence of Mr. Ambrose Spen- 
 cer in his book, "A Narrative of Andersonville" 
 (p. 72): 
 
 "As each train arrived squads of ten men were 
 taken into a detached building nearby, where 
 Wirz, R. B. Winder, and W. S. Winder were as- 
 sembled. There each man was searched by Dun- 
 can and Humes, was stripped to his shirt, if he 
 possessed one, his shoes were closely scrutinized 
 and the soles examined, and the shoes themselves 
 appropriated if they were found worthy; the 
 linings of the waistbands were inspected ; of course 
 the pockets of the pantaloons were turned inside 
 out and their contents appropriated. The pro- 
 ceeds derived from this search were turned over to 
 
124 
 
 EiXecation of the Baiders 
 
 Wirz for temporary deposit, afterward to be 
 divided fairly. 
 
 "The squads were then turned over to the ser- 
 geants of the guard, and such miscellaneous articles 
 as their superiors did not require, or did not desire 
 to take, were appropriated. Thence they were 
 passed to the outside guard to be marshaled into 
 procession for the prison. If these last harpies 
 found anything upon the persons of the prisoners 
 worthy of their regard, it was incontinently taken, 
 and by the time the poor wretches formed into 
 column the regiment that Falstaff once raised 
 would have shown well in comparison with these. 
 
 "When they at last reached the stockade and 
 were turned into the gates, the remnants that were 
 left to them by the rapacious crew through whose 
 hands they had passed were not sufficient to cover 
 their nakedness. But there was slight comfort 
 left the poor wretches in the reflection that they 
 were no worse off than the 20,000 who had pre- 
 ceded them into this Gehenna of earthly misery, 
 and none of these could boast themselves of being 
 possessed of more than themselves. The picture 
 is but faintly drawn, as the author most willingly 
 confesses that — " 
 
 But enough of this without wishing to hear Mr. 
 Spencer's confession. 
 
 The above-named authors, after describing how 
 everything was taken from the prisoners, go on to 
 state that rebel sutlers enriched themselves by 
 
Execution of the Raiders 
 
 125 
 
 charging exorbitant prices for food, clothing, 
 blankets, tobacco, liquors, and other articles sold 
 to the prisoners ! 
 
 How about the thousands of dollars, the 
 watches and jewelry stolen by the marauders from 
 the prisoners, and the prisoner who had his watch 
 and $175 in greenbacks taken, if they had been 
 despoiled of everything they had before entering 
 the prison ? 
 
 The Andersonville histories here mentioned are 
 in every library of note north of the Ohio River, 
 and the skeptic can investigate for himself as to 
 the truth or falsity of the above statements. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE MASS MEETING OF JULY TWENTIETH 
 
 During the month of July many thousands of 
 new prisoners were added to our crowded camp, 
 and the hot weather and unsanitary condition of 
 things, added to the quality and scantiness of the 
 rations, made our situation deplorable. During 
 this time one of our little company, John Hol- 
 comb, died in our quarters. Soon after, or early in 
 August, Swain, Whitworth, Monroe, and Dal- 
 zell were removed to the hospital, where they died. 
 Sergeant Whitcomb, of Company L, was out on 
 parole working at his trade, and on August ii 
 there was none left in prison of our original eleven 
 but Billy Bowles and myself as occupants of our 
 famous quarters. 
 
 Before Swain, Monroe, Dalzell and Whitworth 
 were taken to the hospital I met Wirz while on 
 one of his inside visits. He stopped his horse, 
 and I explained to him briefly the situation and the 
 condition of my comrades. Said I, "If something 
 is not done for them at once, in a few days death 
 will be the result"; and this was the substance of 
 his reply, "I am doing all I can, I am hampered 
 and pressed for rations. I am even exceeding my 
 authority in issuing supplies. I am blamed by the 
 prisoners for all of this suffering. They do not 
 
The Mass Meeting of July Twentieth 127 
 
 or will not realize that I am a subordinate, gov- 
 erned by orders of my commanding officer. Why, 
 sir, my own men are on short rations. The best 
 I can do is to see that your sick comrades are re- 
 moved to the hospital. God help you. I cannot," 
 and his eyes were filled with tears. 
 
 I was crying myself. The animated earnestness 
 of his manner, the tears in his eyes, showed me 
 how deeply he felt. I did not see him again until 
 after he had returned from his sick-leave. He was 
 pale and emaciated that day. His wounded arm 
 was troubling him. I noticed this and mentioned 
 it, but he said nothing about the fact that gangrene 
 had set in. 
 
 His statements and demeanor made a deep im- 
 pression on me. Here, thought I, is a man, "a 
 creature of circumstances," obliged to endure the 
 odium resulting from the sins of others. 
 
 It had become evident beyond any doubt that 
 our Government had decided it to .be a fit and 
 necessary "war measure for repressing the rebel- 
 lion" that we should be sacrificed. As this became 
 more apparent it was so understood. The Gov- 
 ernment had passed that verdict upon us. We 
 know it now, and it was pa:thetic to note the effect 
 it had upon different dispositions, some praying, 
 some cursing, some gambling, and others dying 
 with curses on their lips against the Government. 
 
 A mass meeting was called for July 20. I was 
 unable to attend on account of sickness, but Billy 
 Bowles, the only one left, beside myself, of our 
 
128 The Mass Meeting of July Twentieth 
 
 original number, attended, and brought back, a set 
 of resolutions as follows: 
 
 "Preamble: Apparently one of the sad effects 
 of the progress of this terrible war has been to 
 deaden our sympathies and make us more selfish 
 than we were when the tocsin of battle strife first 
 sounded in the land. Perhaps this state of public 
 feeling was to have been anticipated. The fre- 
 quency of which you hear of captures in battles, 
 and the accounts which you have seen of their 
 treatment, has robbed the spectacle of Its novelty 
 and, by law of nature, has taken off the edge of 
 sensibilities, and made them less the object of in- 
 terest. No one can know the horrors of impris- 
 onment in crowded quarters but him who has en- 
 dured it. But hunger, nakedness, squalor and dis- 
 ease are as nothing compared with the heartsick- 
 ness which wears prisoners down, most of them 
 young men, whose terms of enlistments have ex- 
 pired, and many of them with nothing to attach 
 them to the cause in which they suffer but principle 
 and love of country and of friends. Does the 
 misfortune of being taken prisoner make us less 
 the object of interest to our Government? If such 
 you plead, plead it no longer. These are no com- 
 mon men and it is no common merit that they call 
 upon you to aid in their release from captivity. 
 
 "There are confined in this prison from 25,000 
 to 30,000 men, with daily accessions of hundreds, 
 and that the mortality among them, generated by 
 
The Mass Meeting of July Twentieth 129 
 
 various causes, such as change of climate, dirt, and 
 want of proper exercise is becoming truly fright- 
 ful to contemplate, and is rapidly increasing in 
 virulence, decimating our ranks by hundreds 
 weekly. 
 
 "In view of the foregoing facts we, your peti- 
 tioners, most earnestly yet respectfully pray that 
 some action be immediately taken to effect our 
 speedy release, either on parole or by exchange. 
 The dictates of both humanity and justice alike 
 demanding it on the part of our Government! 
 
 "We shall look forward with a hopeful confi- 
 dence that something be done speedily in this 
 matter, believing that a proper statement of the 
 facts is all that is necessary to secure a redress of 
 the grievance complained of." 
 
 The above was signed by more than one hun- 
 dred sergeants, prisoners, who had charge of de- 
 tachments of their fellow-prisoners, the men au- 
 thorizing the sergeants to sign it. 
 
 The committee selected to go to Washin^on 
 to intercede for exchange were: Edward Bates, 
 Company K, Forty-second N. Y. ; H. C. Higgen- 
 son, Company K, Nineteenth Illinois; Prescott 
 Tracey, Company G, Eighty-second N. Y. ; and 
 Sylvester Noirot, Company B, Fifth N. J. They 
 were paroled for this purpose. It was my under- 
 standing that three of them returned to Ander- 
 sonville and reported the failure of their mission. 
 9 
 
I30 The Mass Meeting of July Twentieth 
 
 In regard to those resolutions, Mr. McEIroy 
 says: 
 
 "I do not think It possible for a mass meeting 
 of prisoners to be held without my knowing It, and 
 its essential features. Still less was it possible for 
 a mass meeting to have been held which would 
 have adopted such resolutions." 
 
 Regarding Mr. McElroy's declaration that in 
 his opinion no such meeting was held and that no 
 such resolutions were adopted, I will simply say 
 that he is mistaken. I'll put it no stronger. 
 
 That mass meeting was held and those resolu- 
 tions were adopted. After the meeting broke up 
 Sergeant Bowles returned to our quarters with a 
 copy of the resolutions, and by the side of my bed, 
 upon which I lay sick, we discussed it far into the 
 morning. I am just as positive of the mass meet- 
 ing and resolutions adopted as if I attended the 
 meeting myself. 
 
 From what Bowles said and from what others 
 told me the next day and for a few days following, 
 for the subject was widely and thoroughly dis- 
 cussed at the time, I was and am cognizant of the 
 living fact that our Government in general and 
 Secretary of War Stanton in particular were cen- 
 sured and roundly condemned at that meeting; 
 and that in those speeches Stanton was painted as 
 black as McElroy has painted Wirz, One poor 
 
The Mass Meeting of July Twentieth j^x 
 
 prisoner raised his arm during the meeting and 
 shouted, "I hold Secretary Stanton personally re- 
 sponsible for my misery!" 
 
 As to Mr. McElroy's statement that the origin 
 of those resolutions "was of a rebel source," he is 
 mistaken. 
 
 As to the mass meeting of Union prisoners at 
 Savannah held later, and the resolutions adopted 
 there, to which Mr. McElroy refers, that was al- 
 together another matter. The resolutions adopted 
 at Andersonville were not the same. I suppose 
 that many of those who attended the meeting at 
 Andersonville and had a hand in drafting the res- 
 olutions, afterward participated in and gave voice 
 to the same sentiments at Savannah, and it is more 
 than probable they had a hand In framing the set 
 of resolutions. 
 
 The resolutions at Andersonville were discussed 
 and toned down before their adoption, and the bit- 
 terness was eliminated, and they were diplomati- 
 cally tempered before transmission. 
 
 To say that there was no such meeting, and no 
 such resolutions were adopted Is untrue. One 
 might as well say there was no Andersonville. 
 
 I shall discuss this incident no further but leave 
 it to the living Andersonville prisoners to decide 
 whether Mr. McElroy is right or whether I am. 
 
 During the latter part of July Captain WIrz 
 was taken sick. He had gangrene in an old wound 
 received at the battle of Seven Pines, and a wound 
 that had never healed, and about August the first 
 
132 The Mass Meeting of July Twentieth 
 
 he left Andersonville on a sick-leave. He had pre- 
 viously obtained a furlough, but remained at his 
 post as long as he was able. While absent, reports 
 reached Andersonville that he was dying, and it 
 was thought he would never return to duty at 
 Andersonville. 
 
 It might not be out of place to state here that 
 there was "credible" testimony adduced at his trial 
 that he killed a prisoner on the 4th of August, 
 1864, "whose name was unknown," and that "on 
 or about August 20, 1864, he murdered another 
 unknown prisoner," and that also, "on or about 
 August 30, A. D. 1864, he deliberately killed an- 
 other prisoner" whose name was unknown. 
 
 During the month that Captain Wirz was away 
 on sick leave Lieutenant Davis was in command. 
 
 My first meeting with Wirz after his return 
 was about September 2. He was looking poorly 
 and was not well. 
 
 He generally rode through the prison in the 
 morning, and often during the afternoon or even- 
 ing "Little Red Cap," his orderly, mounted on 
 Captain Wirz's mare, would visit us. This little 
 fellow was a drummer-boy about fourteen years 
 old, and belonged, I think, to an Ohio regiment. 
 He was captured, and entered the prison either 
 late in February or early in March. I know that 
 I saw him there soon after I arrived. His name 
 was Powell. He was a handsome, smiling-faced 
 little feUow, wearing a red cap set jauntily on the 
 
The Mass Meeting of July Twentieth x33 
 
 side of his head; hence the name "Little Red 
 Cap." 
 
 As soon as Wirz took command he paroled all 
 the drummer boys, about, I should think, fifty in 
 number, and he took young Powell to his head- 
 quarters and detailed him as his orderly. The 
 commandant was very good to "Little Red Cap" 
 and allowed him great liberties. 
 
 Some of the men, thinking that "Little Red 
 Cap" was not a suiEciently dignified title, referred 
 to him as "Wirz's aide-de-camp." He was a fine 
 little fellow, and a general favorite with the pris^ 
 oners and the guard. 
 
 Little Red Cap was the bearer of the order 
 issued by General Winder approving of the sen- 
 tence of the six murderers whom we executed. 
 
 It was a well-known fact at Andersonville that 
 Captain Wirz paroled the drummers that they 
 might escape the rigors and hardships of prison 
 life. 
 
 Of the seven Andersonville histories that I have 
 read in years past and have carefully and patiently 
 perused just recently, not one word could I find 
 referring to the parole of the drummer-boys at 
 Andersonville. 
 
 Captain Wirz never wore a sword or saber 
 among us to my knowledge, and one day while 
 speaking to him I said, "Captain, I have always 
 noticed that you never wear a sword In the pris- 
 on." "The poor fellows have other reminders of 
 
134 ^"^^ Mass Meeting of July Twentieth 
 
 the war," he replied, "without my parading with 
 sash and sword." 
 
 "Did you get your box?" was his inquiry one 
 morning soon after his return. "Yes, sir." "You 
 got one before, didn't you?" "Yes, sir; I received 
 two before." It was the third box counting the 
 one belonging to our dead comrade, Reuben 
 Douglas, and it contained articles greatly needed 
 that kind friends had sent from Michigan. What 
 a treat those boxes, with their valuable contents, 
 were to us ! 
 
 One of those boxes was sent by an old boyhood 
 friend, Hon. E. L. Briggs, of Grand Rapids, 
 Michigan. After I was discharged I visited him 
 and squared accounts as far as I could, but it was 
 a debt that could never be paid. He died about 
 two years ago and I lost one of my best old-time 
 friends. 
 
 So much has been written about the Confed- 
 erate authorities in general, and Captain WIrz in 
 particular, confiscating clothing, medicine, and 
 edibles sent from the North to Union prisoners 
 that I am constrained to state my experience re- 
 garding it. As far as my knowledge went, and 
 from observation, and as far as I was personally 
 concerned, I can refute those charges. 
 
 As fully as I could learn after regaining my 
 liberty and going home these two boxes of articles 
 were the only ones sent me while a prisoner, and 
 I received them intact. And, moreover, I knew 
 many other boxes containing necessary articles be- 
 
The Mass Meeting of July Twentieth j^e 
 
 ing received by my comrades at Andersonville. 
 I don't believe that the Confederate authorities 
 ever confiscated property sent to Union prisoners. 
 
 That the guards at Andersonville during the 
 summer of 1864 were on short rations and that 
 the authorities were unable to supply the prisoners 
 with medicine and adequate food and clothing is 
 a well-known fact. 
 
 In corroboration of this I will quote from a let- 
 ter written by General Sherman, dated September 
 22, 1864, to James E. Yeatman, chairman of the 
 Sanitary Commission, at St. Louis, Missouri: 
 
 "These Confederates are as proud as the Devil, 
 and hate to confess poverty, but I know they are 
 really unable to supply socks, drawers, undershirts, 
 scissors, combs, soap, etc., which our men in prison , 
 need more than anything else to preserve cleanlj* 
 ness and health." 
 
 Now let us look at the character of Captain 
 Wirz, as shown by official records that can to-day 
 be found in every public library. Ask for "The 
 War of the Rebellion Official Records of the 
 Union and Confederate Armies," as published by 
 the United States Government. Series 2, Vols. IV, 
 V, and VIII, and Series 3, Vol. V, show that as 
 soon as Captain Wirz went on duty at Anderson- 
 ville his very first act was to try and better the 
 condition of the prisoners, both as to rations and 
 the sanitary surroundings of the prison and hos- 
 
136 The Mass Meeting of July Twentieth 
 
 pital, as the following letters to Capt. R. D. Chap- 
 man, Acting Adjutant of Post, Col. D. S. Chand- 
 ler, Assistant Adjutant and Inspector-General, 
 and others, show: 
 
 "Headquarters Com. of Prison, 
 "Camp Sumter, Andersonville, Ga., 
 
 "June 6, 1864. 
 "Capt. R. D. Chapman, 
 
 "Acting Adjutant of Post. 
 
 "Captain: I must respectfully call the atten- 
 tion of the Colonel Commanding post, through 
 you, to the following facts : The bread which is 
 issued to the prisoners is of such inferior quality, 
 consisting fully of one-sixth of husk, that it is al- 
 most unfit for use, and increasing dysentery and 
 other bowel complaints. I would wish that the 
 Commissary of the Post be notified to have the 
 meal bolted or some other contrivance arranged to 
 sift the meal before using it. If the meal, such 
 as it is now, was sifted, the bread rations would 
 fall short fully one-quarter of a pound. There 
 is great deficiency of buckets; rations of rice, beans, 
 vinegar and molasses can not be issued to the pris- 
 oners for want of buckets, about 8,000 men In the 
 stockade being without anything of the sort. If 
 my information is correct any number of buckets 
 can be secured from Columbus, Georgia, if the 
 quartermaster of the post would make requisition 
 for the same. 
 
The Mass Meetiiig of July Twentieth 13^ 
 
 "Hoping you will give this your attention as 
 soon as possible, 
 
 "I remain, Captain, most respectfully, your 
 obedient servant, 
 
 "H. Wmz, 
 "Capt. Commanding Prison." 
 
 "Camp Sumter, Andersonville, Ga., 
 
 "August I, 1864. 
 "Colonel Chandler, C. S. A. 
 
 "Colonel: I have the honor to enclose con- 
 solidated report of the military prison under my 
 charge for the month of July, 1864. Allow me 
 to point. out some items which, if possible, ought 
 to be attended to. We have an inadequate supply 
 of tools to put the interior of the prison in a 
 proper condition. We need axes, wheel-barrows, 
 and other similar supplies. We need lumber, 
 lime, iron and sheet-iron for baking pans. The 
 prison, although a large addition has recently been 
 made to it, is still too crowded. Almost daily 
 large numbers of prisoners arrive, and before two 
 weeks It will be In the same condition it was before 
 the addition was made, and all internal Improve- 
 ments, which you are aware yourself are of the 
 utmost importance, will come to a dead halt for 
 the want of room. 
 
 "As long as 30,000 men are confined In any one 
 inclosure the proper policing Is altogether Im- 
 possible. A long confinement has depressed the 
 
138 ^he Mass Meeting ot July Twentieth 
 
 spirits of thousands, and they are entirely indif- 
 ferent. Manifold ways and means have been re- 
 sorted to get out of the stockade. One prisoner 
 alone has made his escape through a tunnel. All 
 the others escaped from the guards while at work 
 on the outside. 
 
 "The rations are mostly the same as for our 
 own men, one-third of a pound of bacon, and one- 
 fourth pound of corn-meal, or one pound of fresh 
 beef in lieu of the bacon; occasionally beans, mo- 
 lasses, and rice are issued. Vinegar and soap, 
 both very important articles, are very seldom is- 
 sued, as the commissary says he cannot get them. 
 Scurvy is the principal disease, and it and all other 
 diseases are in undue proportion to the old pris- 
 oners, who were at first at Richmond and Belle 
 Isle. The guard which I require for safe keeping 
 of the prisoners is entirely insufficient, simply be- 
 cause the men have to perform guard duty every 
 other day. This, it is not necessary for me to say, 
 is too much. With the exception of a portion of 
 the Fifty-fifth Georgia, the balance are militia- 
 men, and are undrilled and undisciplined. A good 
 deal could be said here as to how and why the 
 prison is not in a better condition, but I deem it 
 unnecessary, as you have seen for yourself where 
 the fault lies. Hoping your official report will 
 make such an impression with the authorities at 
 Richmond that they will issue the necessary orders 
 that will enable us to get what we so badly need. 
 
oDeaient servant, 
 
 "H. WiRZ, 
 "Capt. and Assistant Adjutant General 
 
 "Commanding Prison. 
 
 "Respectfully submitted with report. 
 
 "D. T. Chandler, 
 "Assistant Adjutant and Inspector-General." 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 THE FATE OF A TRAITOR 
 
 About the middle of August a heavy rain storm 
 swept over the camp, the rain falling in sheets, 
 and soon the small stream that ran through the 
 camp was a raging torrent. It was so sudden and 
 violent that in places it broke the stockade and 
 in places within the inclosure it dammed up. The 
 water came down the north and south slopes in 
 floods, carrying with It filth and refuse. It was 
 hard on the prisoners and it produced great suf- 
 fering among us. On the other hand it was a 
 blessing, as it carried off millions of vermin and 
 freshened up the camp. 
 
 In many places the water concentrated and cut 
 small channels on the way to the creek. This was 
 particularly the case near the stockade between the 
 north gate and the creek. At this place, about 
 two hundred yards north of the creek and at an 
 elevation of about fifteen feet above it, stood a 
 large pine stump about six feet inside of the dead- 
 line, and the rapid flow of the water cut a channel 
 about two feet deep and three feet wide along the 
 west side and close to this stump ; a strong flow of 
 water cut its way down this channel during the 
 storm. Great was the surprise and rejoicing the 
 
The Fate of a Traitor j^l 
 
 next morning when it was found that the channel 
 had developed a vein of cold, pure water at the 
 root of this stump, and the water proved to be a 
 living spring. 
 
 Its source, as stated above, was six feet inside 
 the dead-line, and we were furnished boards of 
 which we made a trough about ten feet long to 
 carry the water across the dead-line to us. 
 
 This was truly a God-send to the prisoners. 
 
 In all the reminiscences of my comrades that I 
 have read, not one who speaks of this spring has 
 given the true cause of its source or origin, and 
 coming to us as it did I'll admit that it was provi- 
 dential, but it came in a natural way easily ac- 
 counted for. 
 
 I visited Andersonville In 1902, and when I 
 stepped off the train at the station (very much 
 the same as it was In 1864) a boy ten or eleven 
 years of age introduced himself to me as a guide 
 who "knew everything about the place, past and 
 present." He was a bright youngster, and I en- 
 gaged him at once to pilot me and to tell me every- 
 thing about Andersonville. I said nothing to him 
 about my ever having been there, and we started 
 on our tour of inspection. 
 
 I had asked him only a few questions, when, I 
 presume, wishing to exhibit his Sherlock Holmes 
 qualities, he said: "You are from the nawth?" 
 "Why, how did you know?" I inquired, and he 
 repeated a few words I used In which the letter 
 r predominated, and he said, "I could tell by your 
 
142 The Fate of a Traitor 
 
 talk." I feigned surprise at his astuteness, which 
 pleased him greatly. 
 
 This little fellow was a small walking enq^clo- 
 pedia of Andersonville knowledge. Many of the 
 incidents he mentioned really had occurred, but 
 others were a little apocryphal. "Providential 
 Spring" was the leading attraction with my young 
 guide, and he took me there first of all. He didn't 
 begin his historical harangue until we came to the 
 spring and had taken a drink and seated ourselves 
 on the rude bench, when he said, "Many years 
 ago there was a high stockade wall built around 
 these grounds where there were thousands of 
 people imprisoned, and during the late summer 
 water became low in the creek down there and 
 there was great suffering among the people; but 
 there was one good man among them, and one 
 day when the suffering was most intense this pious 
 man knelt right down there," — pointing to the op- 
 posite side from where we sat, — "and earnestly 
 prayed to God to send water to relieve the suf- 
 ferings of the prisoners, and when he arose to his 
 feet water burst out right there from under the 
 stump and it has been flowing ever since." 
 
 I found out afterward that this legend was ac- 
 cepted by a few of the young people and by all 
 the negroes in that region. 
 
 Captain Wirz upon one occasion when speaking 
 to me mentioned parole. This was before my com- 
 rades were taken to the hospital. It was to a cer- 
 tain extent a sort of reflection upon the character 
 
The Fate of a Traitor 
 
 143 
 
 of a prisoner to accept a parole to do work in the 
 prison and about it and to the Interest of the 
 enemy. I will confess the temptation to accept 
 Wirz's invitation was trying, and will also confess 
 that I afterward regretted not acting upon his sug- 
 gestion. I think that I could have availed myself 
 of the opportunity had it not been that my inti- 
 mate friend, Sergeant Bowles, a high-minded, in- 
 tellectual fellow, was so bitterly opposed to the 
 idea in general. I do not think that I mentioned 
 the suggestion made by Captain Wirz to him or to 
 any of my comrades. The opportunity presented 
 Itself again; but as poor Bowles and I were the 
 only ones of the original eleven left, and he was in 
 feeble health, I couldn't bear to leave him and I 
 concluded to stay with him to the last. 
 
 During the latter part of July several of the 
 prisoners engaged in an attempt to dig a tunnel to 
 freedom. Many of the prisoners knew of the 
 plan and the greatest secrecy was observed. The 
 work of tunneling was carried on at intervals dur- 
 ing the dead of night. The progress of the work 
 was well advanced when, on July 23, a rebel ser- 
 geant and a squad came in and stopped further 
 operations. The excitement was Intense, and 
 many surmises and conjectures were made as to 
 who the informer was. 
 
 I will quote from Mr. Urban for the purpose of 
 correcting a mistake under which he evidently la- 
 bored (See "Battlefield and Prison Pen," pp. 
 363 and 364) : 
 
144 ^'^^ ^^^ "' ^ Traitor 
 
 "But the rebels discovered it [the tunnel] and 
 had come into the prison for the purpose of shut- 
 ting it up. The rebels intimated very plainly that 
 they had received the information of Its existence 
 from one of our men, and it created a terrible ex- 
 citement and anxiety to find out who the culprit 
 was. Suspicion at last rested upon an Irishman 
 known among us as 'Big Tom.' He was a man of 
 Immense stature, and was as good, honest, and 
 warm-hearted a son of Erin as could be found 
 anywhere. For some unaccountable reason a few 
 of the prisoners suspected him of disclosing the 
 tunnel to the rebels, and In a short time he was 
 in the hands of an infuriated mob, who charged 
 him with the crime. He earnestly denied the 
 charge, but the maddened men would not listen 
 to him or give him a chance to defend himself. A 
 considerable number of those who believed Tom 
 Innocent gathered together and made an effort to 
 get him out of the hands of the mob. After much 
 trouble we succeeded in doing so, but not until 
 the poor fellow was in a sad plight. His hair was 
 cut off on one side of his head and he had received 
 a terrible beating. One of the enraged men had 
 struck him over the left eye with a stick of wood, 
 Inflicting a fearful wound. E)uring the terrible 
 trial he passed through, and when his life was In 
 the most Imminent danger, the brave Irishman 
 kept as cool and collected as possible for any one 
 to be under such circumstances; and, g^lt^^Q^gh pro- 
 
The Fate of a Traitor 
 
 145 
 
 testing his innocence in the most earnest manner, 
 he did not betray any indications of fear. 
 
 "After we succeeded in getting him away from 
 his tormentors, he requested me to dress the 
 wound on his face and clip the balance of his hair, 
 'so as to look more respectable,' as he expressed it. 
 
 "In a few hours after we had got Tom out of 
 the hands of the mob, the excitement was renewed 
 in the central part of the prison; and on going 
 there I found that the prisoners, who had kept on 
 hunting for the guilty party, had arrested another 
 man on suspicion of disclosing the tunnel to the 
 enemy. This time, however, they succeeded in 
 getting the right one. His base conduct was found 
 out from the fact that he had a considerable quan- 
 tity of food and tobacco ; and on being questioned 
 in regard to where he received it, he could give no 
 satisfactory answer, and his fear disclosed the fact 
 that he was the guilty party. His demeanor was 
 just the opposite of that of the one who was first 
 arrested. His face was as pale as death, and his 
 limbs shook with terror as he confessed that he 
 was guilty of the deed, and he begged most pite- 
 ously that his life might be spared. His captors 
 had succeeded in getting possession of an old well 
 rope, by which they intended to hang him In one 
 of the wells; and they would have succeeded in 
 accomplishing their object had not Wirz found 
 out the state of affairs, and sent in a squad of men 
 to rescue him. He was taken outside, but did not 
 fare as well as the traitor who had disclosed the 
 
 10 
 
146 The Fate of a Traitor 
 
 first tunnel. Instead of protecting him and keep- 
 ing him out of the prison, as they in honor were 
 bound to do, Wirz had him sent back into prison 
 again. He issued an order, however, before do- 
 ing so, that he would stop our rations if we killed 
 the traitor. 
 
 "The poor miserable wretch, almost dead with 
 fright, was sent back to us again, where he knew 
 that almost every one's hand would be turned 
 against him. He did not live long after being sent 
 back by the rebels. He was abused by some and 
 shunned by all, and in a short time his body was 
 carried to the dead-house." 
 
 This Is true excepting that Captain Wirz had 
 him sent back into prison. Mr. Urban is mis- 
 taken in this. The poor unfortunate wretch was 
 from ten days to two weeks under the protection 
 of the guards, and when he returned unexpectedly 
 to the prison, whether of his own volition or other- 
 wise. Captain Wirz was absent on sick leave, and 
 had been away from the prison since about Au- 
 gust I. 
 
 There had been several attempts to escape by 
 tunneling, and a few succeeded in getting away, 
 but were either recaptured or killed in the attempt 
 to regain their freedom. 
 
 Bloodhounds were employed by the authorities 
 of the prison to pursue prisoners who had regained 
 their freedom and were trying to get into the 
 Union lines, or get beyond the precincts of this 
 dismal prison. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 THAT TERRIBLE AUGUST 
 
 August was a terrible month at Andersonville. 
 The heat was terrific and the fatality among the 
 prisoners was something awful. Scurvy, the most 
 destructive disease that afflicted us, was now fear- 
 fully prevalent. Nearly one-half the men were 
 afflicted with It, and hundreds were dying daily. 
 The first symptoms of the awful disease were gen- 
 erally a soreness of the gums, and shortly after- 
 ward ulceration set in, and unless the malady was 
 checked the teeth became loose and fell out. 
 
 Lieutenant Davis was in command, and, I be- 
 lieve, did all he could with the scant supply of food 
 and medicine at hand, to alleviate the condition. 
 
 Notwithstanding the derogatory reports rela- 
 tive to WIrz, I heard men say during that awful 
 August, "I wish that Captain WIrz was back." 
 
 The reader. North and South, will concede that 
 during the summer of 1864 the Southern Confed- 
 eracy was on "its last legs." Its means of trans- 
 portation was broken in many places and Its food 
 and clothing supplies meager and inadequate. In 
 fact, the whole South was in an impoverished con- 
 dition. 
 
 Here was the same as a city with a population 
 
1^8 That Terrible Angnst 
 
 of over 30,000 souls. Some writers put it at 35,- 
 000, but at the lowest there were 30,000 prisoners 
 at Andersonville in August, 1864. Imagine what 
 it was under the conditions In the South at that 
 time to provide food, scant though It was, for 
 those thousands. 
 
 It was said at Andersonville, and I have, during 
 the past fifteen or twenty years, read accounts from 
 Southern sources, that the Confederate Govern- 
 ment during the summer of 1864 asked the Wash- 
 ington authorities to send physicians and hospital 
 supplies for the express use of Union prisoners 
 held In the South ; they pledged that those supplies 
 would be only for the Union prisoners; and it 
 was said that the Washington authorities Ignored 
 the proposition. 
 
 This seemed incredible, and I hoped that this 
 charge could be satisfactorily contradicted by 
 Northern writers acquainted with the facts, but 
 I have never read or heard a word in refutation 
 of It. 
 
 The rations issued to us In August were prin- 
 cipally com meal, com bread, peas, rice and bacon. 
 
 "A Yankee In Andersonville," an interesting 
 article written by T. H. Mann, M. D., which ap- 
 peared in the Century Magazine, July, 1890, says, 
 "Corn bread and bacon were issued to us In fair 
 quantities." Dr. Mann was a prisoner at Ander- 
 sonville at that time. 
 
 It Is the fairest and most truthful account, brief 
 though it is, that I have ever read of Anderson- 
 
That Terrible August j^g 
 
 ville. There is not a word about the apocryphal 
 robbery of Union prisoners by rebel officers and 
 guards, and not a word of the stereotyped and har- 
 rowing tale of Wirz's cruelty and rebel abuse. On 
 the contrary, Dr. Mann says, "Our guard used us 
 well, and I would say here that during our whole 
 captivity we always experienced good usage from 
 an old soldier." 
 
 In referring to a fellow-prisoner named Brown, 
 Dr. Mann says, "He was the only man in the 
 whole prison coming under my observation who 
 did not seem affected by prison life. It did affect 
 him, but in the form of a blessing rather than an 
 evil. At the time of his arrival in the prison he 
 was a mere brute crazed with whiskey; and his 
 intellect, which was naturally strong, even bril- 
 liant, was nearly destroyed. After one month's 
 abstinence he seemed stronger, healthier, and im- 
 proved rapidly every day. His conversation, 
 stories of his life, and brilliant qualities of mind 
 were very entertaining to our immediate circle, 
 and were of assistance toward keeping our spirits 
 good. With all our suffering this man proved to 
 us, beyond a doubt, that there was one condition 
 in this world that a man might reach worse than 
 Andersonville." 
 
 . In regard to the corn beer, Dr. Mann says, 
 "Several enterprising individuals commenced the 
 manufacture of beer. They procured a keg in 
 which would be placed four or five quarts of corn 
 meal and as many gallons of water. After re- 
 
I50 That Terrible Augnst 
 
 malning in the hot sun for a day or two the mix- 
 ture would become very sour, then the keg would 
 be filled with water and the whole allowed to work 
 itself clear. It tasted good and was retailed at 
 five cents a glass. It was the only sour thing we 
 could get and it seemed to check the ravages of 
 scurvy." 
 
 I will be a little captious with Dr. Mann by re- 
 marking that he might have added that this effica- 
 cious beverage was introduced and brought into 
 use at Andersonville by Captain Wirz. 
 
 In the Century Magazine of November, 1890, 
 there appeared an article by J. T. King entitled, 
 "On the Andersonville Circuit." 
 
 Mr. King was a prisoner in Andersonville dur- 
 ing the terrible summer of 1864. He suffered 
 with us, and he tells of his experience without any 
 bias, prejudice or bitterness. In this his article 
 shows a likeness to the latter-day histories of that 
 terrible prison. It is such a refreshing contrast to 
 those harrowing stories that had for twenty-five 
 years preceded it; those romances that portray 
 the Southerner and Confederate as an incarnate 
 demon. In the article Mr. King has not one de- 
 rogatory or condemnatory word regarding Cap- 
 tain Henry Wirz. 
 
 Spencer, in his "Narrative of Andersonville" (p. 
 no), says that a poor sick prisoner begged Wirz 
 to permit him to step outside for fresh air, and 
 that "Wirz replied, 'Any air is too good for a 
 damned Yankee' and pulled out his revolver 
 
That Xerrible August jgi 
 
 and shot him down. The man died two hours af- 
 terward. Wirz, shooting him with his revolver, 
 said, 'I am killing more Yankees at Andersonville 
 than Lee is in front of Richmond.' " 
 
 Then again he tells of similar scenes which I 
 refer to the reader; but it is all too harrowing, 
 distressing, and unreasonable to reproduce. These 
 are but a few of the many stories told by historian 
 Spencer. 
 
 Why does not Sergt. J. T. King relate some of 
 these wild-eyed stories in his article on Anderson- 
 ville? Or why does not Dr. Mann? The answer 
 is plain and simple. They are alleged incidents 
 that never occurred. "" 
 pVVe cauiiuwevpr afford at this late day to be 
 honest and tell the truth. The truth is sad and 
 bad enough, and it is slowly rising though it has 
 been crushed to earth for many years. 
 
 Sergeant King gives a little incident before his 
 entry into the prison : "One elderly gentleman re- 
 marked, 'Yankees can't stand up against our 
 Southern soldier. We whip them on every battle- 
 field. Why, one of our boys — ' 'Look heah, 
 old man,' said one of our guards, 'I can't have 
 you talking to these men like that; you never saw 
 a Yank with a gun in his hands in your life. I 
 tell you they are damned hard to catch I Now 
 stand back.' " 
 
 And in his brief account of the "raiders" among 
 us. Sergeant King says, "A portion of the prison- 
 ers were transformed into beasts and began to 
 
152 Tliat Terrible August 
 
 prey upon others. They snatched and ate the ra- 
 tions of the weaker ones. We called them 
 'raiders,' and they grew in number and boldness 
 until murder was added to theft, and no one was 
 safe. They made raids within a few steps of 
 where I lay, and cut and bruised some men in a 
 horrible manner." 
 
 He gives an account of the trial and execution 
 of the six, but I was surprised that he gave no 
 credit to Wirz for his assistance and cooperation 
 in subduing them. 
 
 Mr. King also refers to the small-pox epidemic, 
 but he has the fairness in referring to the general 
 vaccination of prisoners to refrain from adding 
 that monstrous charge of some of the early writers, 
 to wit, that poison was mixed with the vaccine 
 matter. Neither does Dr. Mann intimate such a 
 thing, much less make the charge. 
 
 In speaking of the non-exchange of prisoners 
 Sergeant King says, "Others swore and cursed. 
 They cursed everybody related to the Confeder- 
 acy and the things that had contributed to the 
 hardships of their prison experience; and as if 
 there were not material enough to curse on that 
 side, they crossed the lines and even cursed Lin- 
 coln and Grant, because of the broken cartel." 
 
 Why Sergeant King excepts Secretary Stanton 
 is something that I do not understand, for among 
 the prisoners at Andersonville in August and Sep- 
 tember, 1864, Edwin M. Stanton shared as much 
 
That Terrible August 1^3 
 
 or more cursing because of our detention than all 
 others. 
 
 We might have been in the wrong to murmur 
 against the policy of Secretary Stanton, not to "ex- 
 change skeletons for well-fed men," but it meant 
 much to us and appeared a most cold-blooded ver- 
 dict. 
 
 We should have emulated the patriotism of 
 Thomas Cromwell, the iU-fated favorite of Henry 
 VIII. When, after his sentence of death he re- 
 ceived a courteous letter from the King, saying, 
 "My dear, sweet Cromwell, it is my wish and 
 pleasure that you should die without a murmur," 
 he replied, "Tell my great and gracious sovereign 
 that I cheerfully acquiesce." 
 
 I am afraid there were but few Cromwells at 
 Andersonville. We were sufficiently human to 
 fall in line with those of whom it was said, "The 
 spirit was willing but the flesh was weak." 
 
 AH the allegations that the rebels put obstacles 
 in the way of exchange and deliberately chose to 
 starve prisoners is certainly open to serious ques- 
 tion, at least from my experience. 
 
 It was understood that we received about the 
 same rations at Andersonville that were issued to 
 the guards. This is supported by a letter written 
 by a Union prisoner, confined at Andersonville, 
 which appeared in the New York Daily News of 
 August 9, 1865. The regrettable part about the 
 thing is that he did not sign his name in full, only 
 his initials, "M. S. H." It was believed, however. 
 
154 That Terrible August 
 
 by soldiers at the time, or at least so reported, 
 that after being paroled at Jacksonville, Florida, 
 he rejoined his regiment, was promoted, and at 
 the time that the letter was written he was an offi- 
 cer on General Sheridan's staff. This letter in 
 part is as follows: 
 
 "Having been for several months an inmate of 
 the stockade at Andersonville, I propose herein 
 to consider, in the first place, the cause of the ex- 
 cessive mortality there; and secondly, how much 
 of its frightful suffering is chargeable to Captain 
 Wirz. The mortality at Andersonville resulted 
 mainly from the following causes : ( i ) want of 
 food, (2) want of shelter, (3) want of medical 
 attendance and hospital diet, (4) causes of a 
 purely local nature, coupled with the moral degra- 
 dation exhibited by some of the prisoners them- 
 selves. By the want of proper food I mean the 
 dietary scale was neither of the kind nor quality 
 to which most of the prisoners had been accus- 
 tomed. Still, it was the ordinary diet of the Con- 
 federate Army, and they had nothing else to give 
 us. Thousands of the prisoners had never eaten 
 bread made of corn meal or any preparation of it 
 whatever; and with those its use commonly re- 
 sulted in diarrhea, which, aggravated by the ex- 
 cessive use of water, generally in a few days be- 
 came chronic. Every one knows the difficulty of 
 treating this disease even under the most favor- 
 able circumstances. At first the meal was issued 
 
That Terrible August le^ 
 
 uncooked and the prisoners were allowed to go 
 outside the stockade, under guard, in squads to col- 
 lect fuel. This privilege was accorded with the 
 understanding that an escape would not be at- 
 tempted. In a short time, however, Captain Wirz 
 was compelled to withdraw the favor, for it was 
 evident that no reliance could be placed on the 
 promises of some of the men. 
 
 "The cooks were our own men liberated from 
 the stockade for this special duty on parole, and 
 receiving therefor an extra ration and the liberty 
 of the entire post, with other privileges. 
 
 "As for the quantity of food, I know that until 
 Generals Sherman and Kilpatrick destroyed the 
 railroad communications of the South, the rations 
 as issued by post commissary was nearly if not 
 equal to that of our guards. * * * 
 
 "There are they whose portraitures have filled 
 our pictorials and upon whose testimony of suffer- 
 ing and starvation the conviction of Captain Wirz 
 will be sought, and whose vindictiveness now in 
 the hour of triumph, to which they contribute little 
 or nothing, is equalled only by their total want of 
 magnanimity, manhood, and self-control while 
 prisoners. Is he (Wirz) to be held up to the 
 world as a murderer of hitherto unknown magni- 
 tude? I trust not. In our national heraldry I see 
 an olive branch for the conquered, not a hang- 
 man's noose. Believe me, I have no personal in- 
 terest or object in making this statement or appeal. 
 I never spoke to Captain Wirz or he to me." 
 
156 That Terrible August 
 
 The above is a brief, fair, and correct state- 
 ment of the situation at Andersonville. "M. S. 
 H." states facts. 
 
 As to the responsibility for the non-exchange 
 of prisoners, I will here insert some official corre- 
 spondence. 
 
 The following is an extract from a letter dated 
 Washington, D. C, September 30, 1864, marked 
 "confidential" and written to Maj. Gen. J. G. 
 Foster, U. S. A., who had charge of exchange 
 of prisoners at Hilton Head, South Carolina: 
 
 "Hereafter no exchange of prisoners shall be 
 entertained except on the field when captured. 
 Every attempt at special or general exchange has 
 been met by the enemy with bad faith. It is under- 
 stood that arrangements may be made later toward 
 exchange of sick, and disabled men on each side. 
 
 "H. W. Halleck, 
 "Maj. Gen. and Chief of Staff." 
 
 See page 895, Series II, Vol. VII, Official Rec- 
 ords War of the Rebellion. Also see on page 602 
 of the same volume : 
 
 "City Point, Va., August 21, 1864. 
 "Hon Edwin M. Stanton, 
 "Secretary of War. 
 
 "Please inform General Foster that under no 
 circumstances will he be authorized to make an 
 
That Terrible Angnst j ey 
 
 exchange of prisoners of war. Exchanges simply 
 reinforce the enemy at once, whilst we do not get 
 the benefit for two or three months, and lose the 
 majority entirely. I telegraph this from just hear- 
 ing that some 500 or 600 more prisoners had been 
 sent to General Foster. 
 
 "U. S. Grant, 
 "Lieut. General." 
 
 In August Brigadier-Generals H. W. Wessells 
 and T. Seymour were appointed to visit the South, 
 looking into the treatment of prisoners of war. 
 
 The following are extracts of a lengthy report 
 made by General Seymour, dated Williamstown, 
 Mass., Aug. 10, 1864, and directed to Col. W. 
 Hoffman, Commissary General of Prisoners, 
 Washington, D. C. : 
 
 "The Southern authorities claim they give to 
 prisoners precisely what the soldiers are allowed 
 in the field. I believe this to be true of the rations, 
 but of nothing else. The Southern soldier, even 
 in his most prosperous days, lived simply upon 
 corn and a bit of bacon, upon which he now Is sup- 
 ported. Few Northern men, except in the alms- 
 house, were ever reduced to the common rule of 
 diet of the Southern race. 
 
 "The Southern authorities are exceedingly de- 
 sirous of an immediate exchange of prisoners. 
 
158 That Terrible Augnst 
 
 General Wessells and myself had an interview 
 with General Ripley at Charleston, S. C, on this 
 point. Their urgency is unbounded, but we as- 
 serted that it was the poorest possible policy for 
 our Government to deliver to them 40,000 prison- 
 ers, better fed and clothed than ever before in their 
 lives, in good condition for the field, while the 
 United States received in return an equal number 
 of men worn out with privations and neglect, 
 barely able to walk, often drawing their last 
 breath, and utterly unfit to take the field as sol- 
 diers. 
 
 "But this anxiety on the part of the rebels is one 
 of the strongest possible proofs of the failing 
 strength of their cause. Between Lee's and 
 Hood's armies the country is a waste, redeemed 
 only by the labor of the females, young and old, 
 and the slaves. The last men have gone to the 
 field of battle, and rather than to reinforce their 
 army, as exchange would do, it was urged by our 
 authorities that it would be much wiser to leave 
 the prisoners where they are. * * * 
 
 "T. Seymour, 
 "Brig. Gen. U. S. Vols." 
 
 The above appears in the same volume. 
 
 To show that there was suffering by prisoners 
 on both sides and needless cruelty I will Insert 
 some correspondence of our officials : 
 
That Terrible August x59 
 
 "Office Commissary General of Prisoners, 
 "Washington, D. C, August 12, 1864. 
 
 "Col. A. A. Stevens, 
 
 Commanding Camp Morton, 
 "Indianapolis, Ind. 
 
 "Colonel: The Surgeon-General has referred 
 to this office a report from Surgeon C. J. Kipp, 
 U. S. Vols., in charge of the hospital at Camp 
 Morton, from which it appears that a variety of 
 diseases are prevailing there of a more or less ma- 
 lignant character, owing to the crowded condition, 
 which caused an unusually large fatality during 
 the week ending July 24. Much of this is at- 
 tributed to the want of anti-scorbutics, none of 
 which have been issued since last fall. As the reg- 
 ulations provide for obtaining these articles there 
 seems to be no sufficient reason why supply has not 
 been procured to prevent diseases which are in- 
 duced by their absence. All proper means should 
 be used to guard against unusual sickness, by at- 
 tention to diet or good state of police, and by not 
 overcrowding in the camp. Is it not possible to 
 enlarge the camp? 
 
 "Very respectfully, your obedient servant, 
 
 "W. Hoffman, 
 "Col. Third Infantry, and 
 "Commissary General of Prisoners." 
 
 Same record : 
 
l6o That Terrible Angnst 
 
 "Point Lookout, Md., April 22, 1864. 
 "Col. A. G. Draper, Com'g. 
 
 "Sir: In compliance with orders from you I 
 hereby make the following statement in regard to 
 the shooting of a prisoner of war at Point Look- 
 out, by a sentinel of the guard: I was at the 
 guard-house at the time the shot was fired. I 
 heard the report, and immediately proceeded to 
 where the report came from. I saw the sentinel 
 who fired the gun. He told me that he had shot 
 one of the prisoners for refusing to obey orders 
 which he was instructed to enforce. 
 
 Edwin C. Gaskell, 
 "Second Lieut., Thirty-sixth Inf., U. S. A., Lieut. 
 
 of the Guard." 
 
 See page 384, Series II, Vol. VII, War of the 
 Rebellion Official Records: 
 
 "Prisoners of War Hospital, 
 
 "Point Lookout, Md., 
 
 "May 31, 1864. 
 
 "Col. Hoffman, 
 
 Commissary-General of Prisoners. 
 
 "Colonel: I have the honor to acknowledge 
 the receipt of your communication of the 29th of 
 May, requesting the names and circumstances at- 
 tending the shooting of prisoners of war, previous 
 to the arrival of Colonel Draper, and after March 
 
That Terrible Augnst i5i 
 
 30, 1864. In reply I most respectfully submit the 
 following report: 
 
 "First, Paul Thoroughgood, Private, Company 
 C, Fourth N. C. Cavalry, shot April 18, 1864, 
 about 9.30 p. m. (See accompanying report to 
 provost marshal, April 19, 1864.) 
 
 "Second, Mark Lisk, Private, Company I, 
 Sixtieth Tenn. Inf., shot while asleep in his tent, 
 on the night of the 21st of April. These are the 
 only cases that have come to my knowledge occur- 
 ring during the time specified in your communica- 
 tion. 
 
 "Very respectfully, your obedient servant, 
 "James H. Thompson, 
 "Surgeon U. S. Vols, in charge." 
 
 Official Records War of the Rebellion, p. 878, 
 Series II, Vol VII— 
 
 "Headquarters, Elmira, N. Y., 
 
 "Sept. 30, 1864. 
 
 "Respectfully forwarded to the Commissary-Gen- 
 eral of Prisoners. 
 
 "Sir: Drainage of camp is not good. There is 
 a pond of stagnant water in the center, which ren- 
 ders camp unhealthy. This ought to be remedied. 
 There is no reason why the camp should not be 
 healthy. Many men in tents without floors or 
 blankets. Barracks should be erected instead of 
 tents. Hospital accommodations very insufficient. 
 II 
 
1 62 Tha'* Terrible August 
 
 Hospital mess-rooms much needed. Police of hos- 
 pital good, except sinks; an offensive smell enters 
 the tents from these. I doubt whether, with pres- 
 ent mode of construction, this could be prevented. 
 Scurvy prevails to a great extent; many deaths re- 
 sulting therefrom. Few, if any, vegetables have re- 
 cently been issued. Greater effort should be made 
 to prevent scurvy. 
 
 "B. F. Tracy, 
 "Col. Comd'g One Hundred and Twenty-seventh 
 N. Y. Vols." 
 
 Page 894, same record — 
 
 "Medical Director's Office, 
 "Baltimore, Md., October 14, 1864. 
 
 "Train of 1200 prisoners from Elmira, N. Y., 
 arrived yesterday. Five died en route to this 
 place, and one since arrival of train. Sixty unfit to 
 travel. 
 
 "C. F. H. Campbell, 
 
 "Surgeon, U. S. Vols., and Med. Inspector." 
 
 "The condition of these sixty men was pitiable 
 in the extreme and evinces criminal neglect, and 
 inhumanity on the part of the officers in making 
 selection for the transfer. 
 
 "J. Simpson, 
 "Surgeon U. S. Army, Med. Director. 
 "Baltimore, Md., October 14, 1864." 
 
Hhat Terrible August jg^ 
 
 Page 892 — 
 
 "Office, Commissary-General of Prisoners, 
 
 "Washington, D. C. 
 "Respectfully submitted to the Secretary of War. 
 
 "Sir: No precaution was taken to guard against 
 unnecessary suffering by the prisoners ordered 
 South, but from the within reports it appears that 
 both the commanding officer and the medical of- 
 ficer not only failed to be governed by these orders, 
 but neglected the ordinary promptings of humanity 
 in the performance of their duties toward sick men, 
 thus showing themselves to be wholly unfit for the 
 positions they occupy, and it is respectfully recom- 
 mended that they be immediately ordered to some 
 other service. 
 
 "W. Hoffman, 
 "Col. Third U. S. Inf. and Com.-Gen. of Prison- 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 BILLY BOWLES GIVES A DINNER IN BALTIMORE 
 
 In September there began a general movement 
 of the prisoners from AndersonvIUe. They went 
 In detachments, many of them leaving during the 
 first week of September, but "our party" did not 
 leave the prison until the middle of the month. 
 Those prisoners were sent further south to Millen, 
 Savannah, and other points. It was, of course, 
 understood that our Government had changed Its 
 mind in regard to exchange and all were buoyed up 
 with new hope; it looked more like exchange of 
 prisoners than it had at any time since we left Belle 
 Isle. 
 
 Bowles, who walked with great difficulty with 
 the aid of a stick, needed all the assistance I could 
 give him. Our progress was slow to the depot, but 
 the guards were kind, and finally about i,ooo of 
 us were aboard the train. We started toward 
 Macon. 
 
 It was a sad journey for Billy and I, since we 
 had to leave so many of our comrades whom we 
 had become attached to, and more particularly sad 
 because we had to leave our nine home boys who 
 were buried in the grave-yard; but we were going 
 to be exchanged, so they said. 
 
Billy Bowles Gives a Dinner in Baltimore x65 
 
 At the end of the third day we reached Savan- 
 nah, and were turned into a pen built of boards 
 about fifteen feet high in one of the public squares 
 of the city. 
 
 This ended our dream of home and friends, and 
 nearly knocked the remaining life out of us; how- 
 ever, it was a change for the better, for there were 
 only about 5,000 prisoners here, and the sanitary 
 condition was a great improvement on Anderson- 
 ville. 
 
 I have a letter before me written to my sister, 
 dated at this place, October 5, 1864, which, in 
 part, is as follows : 
 
 "We were removed from Andersonvllle to this 
 place about the middle of last month. I will not 
 attempt to describe this prison life. Many thou- 
 sands of our young men died at Andersonville dur- 
 ing the past summer. Among them all my com- 
 pany boys who were captured with me over a year 
 ago, except Bowles, of Company L, of the Seventh 
 Cavalry, is still with me. 
 
 "The question is, must we all die? Is there no 
 hope? Our Government has abandoned us! It 
 appears that God is our only friend left. I have 
 for months been sustained by an abiding, undying 
 hope that we would be exchanged 'next week,' but 
 now that hope is gone. 
 
 "If our War Secretary don't act soon to save the 
 remaining few, then, God forgive somebody !" 
 
1 66 '^illy Bowles Gives a Dinner in Baltimore 
 
 On October 12 we were put aboard the cars 
 again and sent to Camp Lawton (Mlllen), which 
 is situated about seventy-five miles from Savannah, 
 at the junction of the Savannah and Macon Rail- 
 road. We were wholly in the dark as to where we 
 were going, but we were not to wait long, for that 
 same day we drew up in sight of a newly built 
 stockade, situated very much as Andersonville was, 
 and very much resembling that prison. 
 
 For some reason we were halted in front of the 
 gate for quite a while. Our hearts sank within us ; 
 there was not a word spoken except the orders of 
 the guard. "Well, Jim," whispered poor Billy 
 Bowles, who stood at my side, "this settles it. An- 
 other winter in prison in our condition means 
 death." 
 
 While standing there, who should come to us 
 but Whitcomb, of Company L, one of our old An- 
 dersonville partners. It was a surprise indeed. 
 He asked permission to speak to us and the answer 
 was, "All right." We were glad to meet again. 
 He had preceded us to Millen. 
 
 He told us that he was out on parole working at 
 his trade. Whitcomb looked well and clean. 
 
 I asked him what the chances were for work 
 outside of the prison. "Good," he replied, "for 
 all who have a trade." "Then you must get me 
 out. I am at the end of my rope. I love my 
 country, but I love my own life a little more. I 
 don't see how my death in prison will be of benefit 
 to the Government." "I have been of that 
 
Billy Bowles Gives a DinntSr in Baltimore 167 
 
 opinion, Jim, for lo these many nSiOons. If Secre- 
 tary Stanton or General Grant had « year's experi- 
 ence of com meal and no clothing, i\believe that 
 they would experience a change of heart about this 
 exchange business; but, Jim, surveying is\ a little 
 slack, I think. What else can you do?" "\t' Any- 
 thing, recommend me for anything." "All ri^ht," 
 he heartily rejoined, and left us. 
 
 We were soon after regularly "booked," and, 
 became inmates of Millen Prison. 
 
 There was a stream of good, pure water running 
 through the camp, and our rations consisted of a 
 pint of corn meal, about one-half cupful of 
 cooked rice, and one-half pound of beef and a little 
 salt every twenty-four hours. 
 
 Mr. Urban, the author of "Battlefield and 
 Prison Pen," who reached this prison October 22, 
 says (p. 440, 441) : 
 
 "Sick prisoners were thrown in here among us 
 to die like dogs. Oh, who can sum up the villainy 
 and crimes of the authors of the rebel brutality in 
 these Southern hell-holes? Surely, God metes out 
 punishment to man for his inhumanity to his fel- 
 lows. These demons will have a fearful catalogue 
 to answer for." 
 
 Pretty hard on somebody ! 
 
 The third day after reaching Millen my nan\e 
 was called out in the prison, and I reported to a 
 young Confederate officer, who introduced himself 
 
l68 Billy Bowles G^es a Dinner in Baltimore 
 
 as Captain Asbmry, saying that I was recom- 
 mended to hira/as a shoemaker. "That's me," said 
 I. He asked me if I wanted to go out and work 
 at my tra/ie. "Yes, sir." "All right, come with 
 me." After passing the guard at the gate he 
 asked- me where I had learned my trade. "At 
 Kalamazoo, Michigan," I said. 
 
 'Fo show the extremity to which I was driven 
 ;^nd the rashness of my reply I must digress to ex- 
 plain. When at an early age I was left an orphan, 
 dependant upon relatives who were very much 
 exercised as to what to do with me, or what I was 
 good for. They bound me out first to a carpenter 
 named Rolph. I didn't like the work and quit it. 
 Then I was given to a doctor, who soon declared 
 that I was not cut out for that profession. I was 
 then sent to Kalamazoo, to a merchant tailor, a 
 good friend of the family and a good man, 
 named Horatio Failing. Mr. Failing was very 
 good to me and made an earnest effort to teach me 
 the tailoring trade, but I soon tired of it. I did 
 not like the confinement. A man named Timothy 
 Paige, across the street from Failing's store, 
 wanted me to come to him and learn the shoemak- 
 ing trade. He was continually joking me about its 
 taking "nine tailors and a bull-dog to make a 
 man." 
 
 One Saturday, when passing his shop, he called 
 me in and showed me through his establishment, 
 explaining everything, and he made me a proposi- 
 tion to stay with him until I was of age. "I be- 
 
Billy Boirles Gives a Dinner in Baltimore 169 
 
 lieve," said he, "that you are now fully compet- 
 ent to make a pair of boots." 
 
 Mr. Paige was what we call in Montana a 
 "josher," but I was too young to catch on, and I 
 told him that I would begin shoemaking the fol- 
 lowing Monday. That night I told my sister, 
 who was boarding at the Failing home attending 
 school, what I had done, but she persuaded me 
 to visit our other sister living near Grand Rapids, 
 and I have never seen Timothy Paige since. 
 
 That conversation constituted my apprenticeship 
 as a shoemaker. 
 
 I accompanied Captain Asbury to his quarters, 
 where I signed a parole promising not to go over 
 five hundred feet from the stockade without a pass; 
 not to talk to the negroes, etc. ; then he took me 
 to a double cabin that was used for a shoeshop, 
 and introduced me to the foreman as a shoemaker 
 and told him tO' put me to work. 
 
 That mythological old character known as 
 Dame Fortune seemed to smile 6n me at my first 
 meeting with the young Captain. As luck would 
 have it, I knew the foreman. He was a "saddler" 
 of a New York regiment whom I knew as a fel- 
 low-prisoner at Andersonville. 
 
 After the Captain withdrew I said to the fore- 
 man, "See here, old fellow, I am no shoemaker; 
 but see the condition I am in. I must do' something 
 or die. Give it to me gently on the start until I can 
 catch on, and I will be your undying friend." He 
 laughed and said, "You haven't got any of the 
 
1 >jo Billy Bowles Gives a Dinner in Baltimore 
 
 best of me, for I am no shoemaker either; I am 
 a saddler. You'll make it all right." He gave 
 me a pattern for different size bottoms for soles 
 and lifts, and a set of knives, and put me to work. 
 Oh, this was easy, cutting from patterns. The 
 work at this time I think saved my life. 
 
 In about a week we moved into a new large 
 shop, and seventy-five shoemakers were put at 
 work. The most of these were from Massa- 
 chusetts regiments whose names Captain Asbury 
 had on list for some time. They were nearly all 
 first-class shoemakers. 
 
 Captain Asbury put me in charge of the sole- 
 leather department, with two good shoemakers as 
 my assistants. I got along nicely, but I was nearly 
 naked, and some clothing was necessary. 
 
 Captain Asbury had as a cook a bright mulatto 
 boy who was a natural-born trader. He carried on 
 quite a traffic among his dark brethren, and I gave 
 the boy some sole-leather in exchange for some new 
 muslin flour sacks. 
 
 After the trade I returned to the shop and 
 started a small fire in the fireplace in the end of the 
 building, that by the light of the blaze I might 
 examine my purchase and find a way of making a 
 shirt for myself. I was surprised to find Captain 
 Asbury's name on every one of the eight sacks. I 
 hastily turned them all wrong side out, and after 
 "cashing" five of them I was planning how to cut 
 a shirt out of the other three, when Captain As- 
 bury walked in. We had become well acquainted, 
 
Billy Bowles Gives a Dinner in Baltimore jyi 
 
 and while we radically disagreed politically he had 
 always treated me with the utmost courtesy. His 
 words to me as he approached were, "Hello, Page, 
 you are the fellow who is stealing my sacks, are 
 you?" I threw him the sack and said, "All right. 
 Captain, if it is yours I do not want it; I was think- 
 ing of making me a shirt. You see mine is about 
 gone." He glanced at it and then at me, and 
 handed it back, saying, "It is all right. Page." 
 
 It was about this time that Asbury noticed that 
 my feet were bare, and he directed me to see the 
 upper cutter and get from him the uppers and take 
 soles from my department and make myself a 
 pair of shoes. I thanked him and followed his 
 directions. 
 
 With the help of others in our mess, who knew 
 the trade, I soon had the shoes completed. 
 
 Next day I informed the Captain that the shoes 
 were done and asked what would be the price. He 
 said, "We sell them to citizens for $125 and to 
 our soldiers for $75. You may have them at the 
 army price." This knocked me out. I told him 
 that I had no means for such a purchase as this. 
 He answered, "I will allow you $2 a day while 
 you are working at your trade." This contract 
 looked too formidable, and as I declined to put 
 them on till they were paid for the result was that 
 I hung them up in the shop by my bunk. The fol- 
 lowing Saturday, through the agency of the Sani- 
 tary Commission, there came to the prisoners a 
 supply of shoes, socks, caps, and blouses. I found 
 
1 72 Billy Bowles Gives a Mnner in Baltimore 
 
 difficulty In fitting myself with shoes out of this 
 stock. Meanwhile, Asbury hailed me and said, 
 "Why don't you draw a pair of shoes?" "They 
 are too small," I said. "Draw a pair," he replied, 
 "and I will trade the shoes you made for them." 
 The exchange was soon made. 
 
 The next morning, Sunday, I proceeded a short 
 distance from the shop, to a secluded spot on the 
 bank of the creek, and after taking a bath I at- 
 tired myself with this motley new suit, of shirt 
 and pants cut out of the flour sacks with my pen- 
 knife, and secured together with threads gathered 
 from the raveled edges; shoes acquired in the 
 manner above described, and a blouse, cap, and 
 socks obtained from the Sanitary Commission. 
 This suit was not very stylish, tested by the latest 
 fashion-plates, but I never felt so well dressed be- 
 fore or since, as when I shed my old shirt and 
 pants which had served me more than a year with- 
 out change, and donned my new garments. 
 
 About the middle of November the Captain 
 told me that there was an exchange agreed upon 
 by which 10,000 sick and wounded prisoners 
 would soon be sent to Savannah and thence down 
 the river to our transports. "Don't you wish you 
 were sick?" he said. "I am sick, Captain," was 
 my reply, "and also my friend inside the stockade; 
 you must let him go, too." "Well, your time will 
 come soon." On the evening of November 19 he 
 said to me, "To-morrow you and your friend can 
 go. What is your friend's name?" "Bowles; 
 
Billy Bowles Gives a Dinner in Baltimore 1^3 
 
 Sergeant Bowles." "All right, be ready in the 
 morning. I will see to it that Bowles goes too." 
 "Captain, this seems too good to be true; but I 
 believe you and I shall never forget your kindness 
 to me." 
 
 The next morning Captain Asbury asked me to 
 go. around to the main entrance of the stockade, 
 and wait there, and he went in and brought out 
 Billy Bowles. I joined them. The poor fellow 
 was overjoyed. At the depot I said to Asbury, 
 "Captain, I deceived you when I stated that I was 
 a shoemaker; but, oh, I did so want to get out of 
 the prison ! You know the condition that I was in 
 and you surely will say that I was justified. I am 
 not a shoemaker and I hope that you will forgive 
 me for the deception." "Oh, that is nothing. I 
 looked in on you one evening and saw you sitting 
 between a couple of men who were working on 
 your shoes, while you were entertaining them with 
 stories, and I came to the conclusion then that you 
 were not very high in the profession," was his 
 laughing rejoinder; "but you filled the bill all 
 right, you did your work well." 
 
 We were finally ordered to board the train, and 
 when I shook hands with him a brother would not 
 have shown deeper emotion. 
 
 In my visit through the South a few years ago 
 I made an earnest effort to find Captain Asbury, 
 and at last I was informed that he died at Ogle- 
 thorpe, Georgia, soon after the close of the war. 
 
1 74 Billy Bowles Gives a IMnner in Baltimore 
 
 He was a good, kind-hearted, charitable man, a 
 true friend in need. 
 
 We were run back to Savannah that evening, 
 and in due time we found ourselves again in the 
 same old stockade we had recently occupied, near 
 the center of the city. 
 
 Next morning about i,ooo of us were marched 
 to the wharf and went aboard the transport R. E. 
 Lee, and started down the river. Bowles and I 
 were sitting in the bow of the boat talking. 
 Among other things I said, "Billy, I have a feel- 
 ing that this means exchange." He shook his 
 head and was full of doubts. Captain Asbury, the 
 guards, and every one during the two days with 
 whom we came in contact told us that we were to 
 be exchanged, but it had for fourteen months been 
 the same old, old story: "Cheer up, Yanks, don't 
 get downhearted; you will shortly be exchanged." 
 
 It was very foggy when we left the wharf, but 
 now the fog, like a heavy curtain, began to lift 
 from the land and water. 
 
 All at once there appeared before us floating in 
 the distance the stars and stripes from a number of 
 vessels. The excitement among the prisoners 
 knew no bounds. Sticks and crutches were thrown 
 overboard, and men yelled and cried and laughed 
 and sang in a most frenzied manner. 
 
 We ran alongside the steamer New York, and, 
 under the directions of officers, filed around the 
 cook's cabin, on the steamer, where six hardtack 
 and a piece of boiled pork were given to each as 
 
Billy Bovrles Gives a Dinner ia Baltimore i ye 
 
 he passed. The food was received with the most 
 ravenous eagerness. 
 
 Bowles and I clung together, and when we 
 reached the lower deck we sat beside each other to 
 eat our United States rations. We had hardly 
 seated ourselves when there was heard a loud noise 
 and great disorder. 
 
 It appeared that some of the prisoners flanked 
 to get double rations, and the officers aboard the 
 vessel being powerless to prevent it, ordered the 
 cook and his men to suspend issuing rations, and 
 ordered the prisoners below, telling them that 
 cooked rations were all out and that they must 
 wait. 
 
 The officer in charge begged the men to be quiet, 
 and assured them that they would soon have all 
 they wanted; but nothing would do, they must 
 have food at once. They finally compromised the 
 matter by the leaders of the ex-prisoners giving 
 the officers of the vessel fifteen minutes to get them 
 rations. Two guai-ds were placed over the hatch- 
 way and the officers departed. 
 
 As soon as the specified time was up, the ex- 
 prisoners charged the guards and drove them upon 
 the deck. They broke open the hatch-way and 
 secured the hardtack and barrels of pork and beef. 
 The boxes and barrels were smashed open, and the 
 scene that followed beggars description. Raw 
 pork and hard tack were snatched up and spirited 
 away in absurd quantities. Many of them ate 
 their last supper that evening. 
 
176 Billy Bowles Gives a Dinner in. Baltimore 
 
 "Great God," said Bowles to me, "come to sim- 
 mer it down, Jim, what beasts men are!" 
 
 Next morning four hundred of us were trans- 
 ferred to the steamer Northerner, which started 
 for Annapolis. 
 
 When we were fairly out to sea, I leaned over 
 the side of the steamer and looked out seaward, 
 and a picture presented itself to me which had a 
 familiar aspect, as one I had seen before. It was 
 such as had appeared to me in a dream eleven 
 months before, and it recalled the dream to mind. 
 
 On Belle Isle, about the middle of December, 
 1863, when rumors of an early exchange were rife, 
 I dreamed that I was leaning over the side of a 
 steamer, proceeding out to sea, the sailors all 
 about me. In front of me, seaward, some two 
 miles out, there was a brig under full canvas, and 
 some distance this side of it was a smaller vessel 
 rigged as a sloop, also under full sail. Both were 
 moving parallel to us and opposite to the direc- 
 tion of the steamer. Close by the side of the 
 steamer two large, fat-looking fish rose to the 
 surface in play and then disappeared. "Oh, see 
 those hogs!" I exclaimed. A sailor at my side 
 said, "They are porpoises." This dream of Belle 
 Isle was fulfilled in every minute particular on the 
 morning when we steamed out from the Savan- 
 nah River nearly one year later. This seemed the 
 more remarkable to me, since I was little accus- 
 tomed to travel on steamships and had never seen 
 a porpoise. 
 
Billy Bowles Gives a Dinner in Baltimore jyy 
 
 On November 27 we arrived at Annapolis. We 
 were put ashore, given a bath, had our hair cut, 
 and were rigged out in new suits of blue. Ah, this 
 was living again! Good rations, good bunks to 
 sleep on, and clean clothes! 
 
 We remained at Annapolis about a week, and 
 were given a thirty days' furlough, and the com- 
 manding officer sent me with a hundred men to 
 Baltimore with an order on the paymaster for 
 commutation of rations, also an order on the 
 Baltimore & Ohio R. R. from Baltimore to De- 
 troit. 
 
 At Baltimore I made the blunder of taking the 
 men first to the paymaster. There I dressed them 
 up In line and they received commutation for ra- 
 tions and clothing. Some of them had nearly two 
 years rations due them. 
 
 My detachment were nearly all Michigan boys. 
 I called them together and told them that I had 
 an order for their transportation to Detroit, and 
 for all of them to meet me at the depot at 2 o'clock 
 that afternoon so I could give them their tickets. 
 The only ones who turned up at the depot were 
 Bowles and Bugler Johnson, of Company G of 
 my regiment, who remained with me during the 
 day. 
 
 I obtained the hundred tickets, and we remained 
 
 at the station until 4 o'clock, waiting for the boys 
 
 to come. I delivered but two of the tickets, viz., 
 
 to Bowles and Johnson. The other ninety-seven 
 
 12 
 
178 Billy Bowles Gives a Dinner in Baltimore 
 
 tickets I left with the ticket agent and went with 
 Bowles to dinner. 
 
 As we sat down at the restaurant, Bowles took 
 from an inside pocket a ragged, discolored memo- 
 randum book, and handed it to me. It was the 
 bill of fare of the Christmas dinner that we did 
 not get at Belle Isle in 1863. I had forgotten 
 about it, but Billy had not. He motioned to a 
 waiter and said, handing him the memorandum 
 containing the menu, "I want that dinner dished 
 up for eleven." The waiter demurred to some of 
 the items, such as plum-pudding, but Billy was in- 
 exorable. The program must be carried out to 
 the letter, and for eleven. The waiter expected 
 that nine others would put in an appearance, and 
 gave the order. I expostulated with Bowles about 
 the ridiculousness of the thing, but he could not be 
 dissuaded from his purpose and an elaborate and 
 sumptuous repast, exactly as the menu stated, was 
 served. 
 
 My remonstrances were futile, and when the 
 waiter understood the situation he thought, I pre- 
 sume, that he had an insane man to deal with. 
 
 "We entered intO' a compact that Christmas 
 evening," said Bowles, "and I'm determined to 
 carry it out to the letter." 
 
 Every one of the eleven plates was filled with 
 good things, and except Billy's orders to the 
 waiter, hardly a word was spoken. It was the sad- 
 dest meal that I ever sat down to. 
 
 After leaving the restaurant Billy said, "When 
 I proposed to treat the boys to a Christmas dinner 
 
Billy Bowles Gives a Dinner in Baltimore X79 
 
 I was sure that we would all be soon exchanged 
 and that the programme would all be fully car- 
 ried out; I didn't think it possible but that the 
 Government would take action looking toward a 
 speedy exchange, and that we would all be to- 
 gether to enjoy the dinner." 
 
 The next morning Sergeant Bowles, Bugler 
 Johnson, and myself, the only ones out of the hun- 
 dred, took the train for Detroit. 
 
 I remained wit-h my relatives sixty days (my 
 furlough having been extended thirty days on ac- 
 count of sickness), and then after being held at 
 Harper's Ferry with about three hundred and 
 sixty of my regiment for some time, during which 
 we participated in the search for Booth, the mur- 
 derer of our lamented Lincoln, I finally joined my 
 company after an absence of about nineteen 
 months. We participated in the Grand Review 
 at Washington, and I was promoted to second lieu- 
 tenant on the 23d day of May, 1865, and was 
 mustered out of service on the 21st day of June, 
 1865, at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. 
 
 As early as the spring of 1862, when the se- 
 ceded States were blockaded by sea, and cut off 
 by invading armies by land, it was plain that the 
 Confederate Army and the people of the South 
 would soon be in distress for the necessaries of 
 life, for they would be wholly dependent on what 
 could be raised in their country and there would 
 soon be no one left to till the soil but the remain- 
 ing slaves and the women and children. 
 
l8o Billy Bowles Gives a Dinner in Baltimore 
 
 I hold that if our Washington authorities had 
 given the matter the consideration that the great 
 subject demanded, they would have realized the 
 importance of early exchange to save the lives of 
 those so unfortunate as to be taken prisoners. If 
 an immediate or early exchange had been agreed 
 upon, which would have been as fair for one side 
 as the other, there would have been no Anderson- 
 ville Prison; the rows of marble slabs witnessing 
 the graves of 13,000 or more of our young men 
 in the National Cemetery at that place would not 
 be there and the "we will not exchange able-bodied 
 men for skeletons" policy would have been no ex- 
 cuse. 
 
 Our Government knew the destitute condition 
 of the South and the consequence that would result 
 if we were not early exchanged. This knowledge 
 is my reason for making the charge that our Gov- 
 ernment must share the responsibility. The Gov- 
 ernment knew and did not act. While I never 
 said anything about it while a prisoner and very 
 little since, I felt that our Government was mak- 
 ing a very serious blunder, in which thousands of 
 lives were involved, and one that must sooner or 
 later be recognized. 
 
 During those terrible days at Andersonville in 
 the summer of 1864, when the condition of the 
 prisoners had reached the state of invalidism and 
 helplessness, the Government was confronted with 
 a serious problem. I do not believe a general 
 exchange at that time would have prolonged the 
 strife a day. 
 
PART II 
 
 HENRY WIRZ: THE MAN AND HIS 
 TRIAL 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 THE FACTS OF WIRZ's LIFE 
 
 Major Henry Wirz, C. S. A., was born at 
 Zurich, Switzerland, in 1822. He was the son of 
 Abraham Wirz, an honest, respectable citizen of 
 that city. After graduating at the University of 
 Zurich,. Henry Wirz took up the study of medi- 
 cine, and to fit himself for his profession he at- 
 tended the medical colleges of Paris and Berlin; 
 in both of which schools he received the degree 
 of M. D. He began the practice of medicine near 
 his home, and soon after, while quite young, mar- 
 ried. After giving birth to two children, his wife 
 died, and Dr. Wirz decided to try his fortune 
 across the sea. 
 
 Leaving his children with his father and mother, 
 he immigrated to the United States. His father 
 was in good circumstances financially, and the Doc- 
 tor's children, Paul and Louisa Emily Wirz, had 
 a good home. They remained in Switzerland, and 
 both were living a few years ago. 
 
 Dr. Henry Wirz came to this country in 1849. 
 He was a learned and skilful ph ysician, and began 
 
 , II IIMl ,1 .. IIMIIM D IWIIII I IIll ji Wllll lH IMMIIIHMJilll— ill— !»[■ 
 
 the p ractic e of his , p.imf i.sy'""^-'^" Kentucky. Early 
 iirirS54 hemarried Mrs. Wolfe, a woman of good 
 family, a widow, the mother of two little girls. 
 
1 84 The Facts of Wirz's Ule 
 
 Susie and Cornelia Wolfe. The marriage took 
 place at Cadiz, Kentucky, and was a happy one, 
 as they were very much attached to each other. 
 He was an affectionate husband and the kindest of 
 fathers to his little step-children. February 25, 
 1855, a little girl came to cement more closely the 
 bonds of affection between this loving pair. They 
 named her Cora. 
 
 This was the only child of Major Wirz's last 
 marriage and her life has been a most sad one. 
 She was but ten years old when her father was 
 executed at Washington. She well remembers the 
 agonizing grief of her mother during that awful 
 November of 1865, and how she begged for the 
 body of her husband and was refused it by the au- 
 thorities. They bluntly informed the weeping 
 woman that she could not have the remains ; that 
 they had concluded to bury the body by the side of 
 Mrs. Surratt and Herold, the "Lincoln conspira- 
 tors," in the prison-yard. This was done. 
 
 It seems incredible at this time that men could 
 be found on top of the earth that would have the 
 heart to refuse such a request! 
 
 Major Wirz's youngest child is still living — 
 Mrs. J. S. Perrin, of Natchez, Mississippi. She 
 is the mother of three children living — Samuel 
 Paul Perrin, Roscoe Wirz Perrin, and Miss Mary 
 Gladys Perrin, and a few years ago she burled a 
 beautiful daughter. Miss Maude Perrin. 
 
 After his second marriage Dr. Wirz removed 
 to Milliken's Bend, Louisiana. 
 
The Facts of Wirz's Wfe 185 
 
 At the beginning of the Civil War he had a 
 large and lucrative practice as a physician in the 
 locality in which he lived. 
 
 In refutation of the many accounts by Ander- 
 sonville historians of his being an "ignorant, un- 
 educated person," I can say that I know from per- 
 sonal observation that he spoke English, German, 
 and French. 
 
 When the war broke out he espoused the side of 
 the South, and on June 16, 1861, he enlisted In 
 Company A, Fourth Battalion, Louisiana Volun- 
 teers. This was a select military organization that 
 did excellent service on the field of battle, partic- 
 ularly in 1 86 1 and 1862. It was composed of as 
 brave soldiers as ever faced an enemy. The mem- 
 bers of this regiment acquitted themselves gal- 
 lantly at Seven Pines. In this battle sergeant 
 Henry Wirz was severely wounded, his right arm 
 being badly shattered by a ball, and he never re- 
 gained the use of it. The arm was so useless to 
 him that while in command at Andersonville he 
 learned to write with his left hand. During his 
 trial in September and October, 1865, he was suf- 
 fering from this wound. 
 
 He was in the hospital for some weeks after 
 being wounded. After partially recovering he re- 
 joined his regiment and was promoted to a cap- 
 taincy, June 12, 1862, "for bravery on the field of 
 battle." He was suffering from the wound that he 
 received at the battle of Seven Pines, which un- 
 fitted him for duty at the front, and shortly after 
 
1 86 The Facts of Wirz's Uf e 
 
 he was detailed as acting adjutant-general to Gen. 
 J. H. Winder. 
 
 On August 26, 1862, Captain Wirz was placed 
 in charge of the military prison at Richmond, Vir- 
 ginia, where he remained on duty till September 
 26, 1862, when he was ordered to Montgomery, 
 Alabama, in search of missing records pertaining 
 to prisoners captured in 1861 and the early part of 
 1862, and to report the result to Col. Robert Ould, 
 Agent for Exchange. 
 
 After completing his work there to the satisfac- 
 tion of his superiors, he was ordered by General 
 Winder to repair to Tuscaloosa, Alabama, to take 
 charge of the prison at that point. 
 
 His health failing him he applied for a fur- 
 lough, and was directed to proceed to Richmond, 
 Virginia. While there he was appointed a special 
 plenipotentiary by President Davis on a mission to 
 Paris and Berlin, and sailed for Europe the latter 
 part of 1862. 
 
 While at Paris he had his wounded arm oper- 
 ated on, and, as the physicians supposed, all the 
 diseased bone was removed. As he began to re- 
 gain his health it was thought that the operation 
 was a successful one; but this was not the case, 
 for after completing his mission at Berlin the old 
 trouble came back, and when he returned from 
 Europe in February, 1864, he was suffering as 
 much as ever. 
 
 In April, 1864, he was directed to report to 
 Colonel Persons in command of the prison at An- 
 
The Facte of Wirz's Iiife igj; 
 
 dersonville, Georgia, and to take charge of the in- 
 terior of the prison. The date of the order was 
 April 12, 1864. 
 
 When the war was closed in April, 1865, Cap- 
 tain Wirz was still at Andersonville. His wife, 
 his little daughter, and his step-children were with 
 him. He was suffering from his wound and was 
 nearly impoverished. It was understood that he 
 was included in the surrender of General Johns- 
 ton and his forces to General Sherman. 
 
 Union troc^s were sent into Georgia at this time 
 under command of General Wilson. This oiEcer 
 established his headquarters at Macon. On May 
 7, General Wilson sent Capt. H. E. Noyes, of 
 the Fourth Regular Cavalry, to Andersonville 
 with a squad of soldiers. They called on Captain 
 Wirz, who had, during the winter preceding, been 
 promoted to the rank of major. 
 
 Captain Noyes demanded the records of the 
 prisop, and Major Wirz collected them and 
 handed them to him. 
 
 "I have been directed. Major," said Captain 
 Noyes, "by General Wilson to take you to his 
 headquarters." 
 
 "Very well, sir, I have no objection; but before 
 we go, had you not better have something to eat. 
 We have but little in the house, but, little or much, 
 you and your men are welcome to it." 
 
 The Captain thanked him, and they sat down 
 with the Wirz family to bread and bacon. Major 
 
1 88 The Facts of Wirz's Iiif e 
 
 Wirz apologized for having no coffee or tea in 
 the house. 
 
 As they were about to leave the house, Mrs. 
 Wirz became very much agitated, and the little 
 ones began to cry, but Major Wirz cheerfully as- 
 sured them that no harm could come from his trip 
 to General Wilson's headquarters. Mrs. Wirz 
 said afterward that Captain Noyes's attitude made 
 her uneasy from his first entrance into the house. 
 There was something ominous in his stern looks 
 and his silent demeanor. Except to thank Major 
 Wirz when h^ suggested that they should wait to 
 have dinner, he never uttered a word while the 
 humble repast was being prepared nor when her 
 husband was quieting her fears. 
 
 It was the last time that his little ten-year-old 
 daughter, now Mrs. J. S. Perrin, saw her father. 
 
 Major Wirz was taken to Macon. After the 
 party in command of Captain Noyes reached that 
 city they immediately went to General Wilson's 
 headquarters. The latter questioned Wirz at con- 
 siderable length, and carefully examined the prison 
 records. In the course of about two hours the 
 General told him that that was all he wanted and 
 that he could return to his family. Major Wirz 
 bid the General good-by, and went to the depot 
 to take the cars for Andersonville. The train was 
 a few hours late, and after waiting at the depot 
 for more than an hour, an officer with a few sol- 
 diers from General Wilson's headquarters came to 
 
The Facts of Wirz's Life 189 
 
 the Station and arrested Major Wirz and put him 
 under guard. 
 
 A few days later he was sent to Washington, 
 and placed in the Old Capitol Prison on May 10, 
 1865. 
 
 From that date until the following August, not 
 only the Adjutant General's office, but the whole 
 War Department were busy collecting evidence 
 against the prisoner. Col. E. D. Townsend, As- 
 sistant Adjutant-General, was more than alert in 
 gathering testimony. He figured very prominently 
 in the prosecution, but, strange to say, in his me- 
 moirs recently published there does not appear one 
 word relative to Wirz or the trial. This is sig- 
 nificant. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 THE ACCUSATIONS AGAINST WIRZ 
 
 The long delayed trial was initiated by the is- 
 suance of the following order : 
 
 "Special Order, No. 453. 
 
 "War Department, 
 "Adjutant General's Office, 
 "Washington, D. C, Aug. 23, 1865. 
 
 "A special Military Commission is hereby ap- 
 pointed to meet in this city at 11 o'clock A. M. on 
 the 23d day of August, 1865, or as soon thereafter 
 as practicable, for the trial of Henry Wirz, and 
 such other prisoners as may be brought before it. 
 
 "Detail of the commission: 
 
 "Maj.-Gen. L. Wallace, U. S. Volunteers. 
 
 "Brev't Maj.-Gen. L. Thomas, Adjutant Gen., 
 U. S. A. 
 
 "Brev't Maj.-Gen. G. Mott, U. S. Volunteers. 
 
 "Brig.-Gen. Francis Fessenden, U. S. Volun- 
 teers. 
 
 "Brig.-Gen. A. S. Bragg, U. S. Volunteers. 
 
 "Brev't Brig.-Gen. John F. Ballior, U. S. Vol- 
 unteers. 
 
 "Brev't Col. T. AUcock, 4th N. Y. Artillery. 
 
The Accusations Against Wirz igx 
 
 "Lieut.-Col. J. H. Stibbs, 12th Iowa Volun- 
 teers. 
 
 "Col. N. P. Chipman, Additional Aide-de- 
 Camp, Judge-Advocate of the Commission, with 
 such assistants as he may select, with the approval 
 of the Judge-Advocate-General. 
 
 "The Commission will sit without regard to 
 hours. 
 
 "By order of the President of the United States. 
 
 "E. D. TOWNSEND, 
 
 "Assistant Adjutant-Gen." 
 The specifications were as follows: 
 
 "Specification i. 
 
 "In this that the said Henry Wirz, an officer in 
 the military service of the so-called Confederate 
 States of America, at AndersonvIUe, in the State 
 of Georgia, on or about the eighth day of July, 
 A. D. 1864, then and there being commandant of 
 a prison there located by the authority of the so- 
 called Confederate States for the confinement of 
 prisoners of war taken and held as such from the 
 armies of the United States of America, while 
 acting as said commandant, feloniously, wilfully, 
 and of his malice aforethought, did make an as- 
 sault, and he, the said Henry Wirz, a certain pis- 
 tol called a revolver then and there loaded and 
 charged with gunpowder and bullets, which said 
 pistol the said Henry Wirz, In his hand then and 
 
ig2 The Accusations Against Wirz 
 
 there held, to, against, and upon a soldier belong- 
 ing to the army of the United States, in his, the 
 said Henry Wirz's custody as a prisoner of war, 
 whose name is unknown, then and there felon- 
 iously, and of his malice aforethought, did shoot 
 and discharge, inflicting upon the body of the sol- 
 dier aforesaid a mortal wound with the pistol 
 aforesaid, in consequence of which said mortal 
 wound, murderously inflicted by the said Henry 
 Wirz, the said soldier, to wit, on the ninth day of 
 July, A. D. 1864, died." 
 
 And of thousands of prisoners who were at An- 
 dersonville on July 8 and 9, 1864, no one could 
 be found who knew the name of this man ! 
 
 All the particulars attending the shooting and 
 death of the murdered man were minutely de- 
 scribed upon oath at the trial except his name! 
 
 "Specification 2. 
 
 "In this that the said Henry Wirz, an officer in 
 the military service of the so-called Confederate 
 States of America, at Andersonville, in the State 
 of Georgia, on or about the 20th day of Septem- 
 ber, A. D. 1864, then and there being command- 
 ant of a prison there located by the authority of 
 the said so-called Confederate States of America, 
 while acting as commandant, feloniously, wilfully, 
 and of his malice aforethought, did jump upon, 
 stamp, kick, bruise, and otherwise injure with the 
 
The Accnsations Against Wirz 103 
 
 heels of his boots, a soldier belonging to the army 
 of the United States in his, the said Henry Wirz's, 
 custody as a prisoner of war, whose name is un- 
 known, of which said stamping, kicking, and bruis- 
 ing, maliciously done and Inflicted by the said 
 Wirz, he, the said soldier, to wit, on the 20th day 
 of September, A. D. 1864, died." 
 
 They knew all the particulars, even the day that 
 he died, but they didn't know his name. 
 
 "Specification 3 
 
 "In this that the said Henry Wirz, an officer 
 in the military service of the so-called Confederate 
 States of America, at Andersonville, in the State 
 of Georgia, on or about the thirteenth day of 
 June, A. D. 1864, then and there being com- 
 mandant of a prison there located by the authority 
 of the so-called Confederate States of America, 
 while acting as said commandant, feloniously, and 
 of his malice aforethought, did make an assault, 
 and he, the said Henry Wirz, in his hand then 
 and there held, to, against, and upon a soldier 
 belonging to the army of the United States, in his, 
 the said Henry Wirz's custody as a prisoner of 
 war, whose name is unknown, then and there 
 feloniously, and of his malice aforethought, did 
 shoot and discharge, inflicting upon the body of 
 the .soldier aforesaid a mortal wound with the 
 13 
 
igj The Accusations Against Wlrz 
 
 pistol aforesaid, in consequence of which said mor- 
 tal wound, murderously inflicted by the said Henry 
 Wirz, the said soldier immediately, to-wit, on the 
 day aforesaid, died." 
 
 Notwithstanding the tedious monotony of these 
 specifications and their sameness, I propose to set 
 them down here verbatim et literatim. 
 
 I was at Andersonville, a prisoner, from Febru- 
 ary 27 to September 20, 1864, and while there I 
 never heard nor never knew that Captain Henry 
 Wirz was personally responsible for the death of 
 a solitary prisoner, and I thought that I knew 
 about everything that occurred there. There were 
 thousands of us there and you can imagine how we 
 discussed pro and con everything that took place; 
 in fact, that was about all we had to do. You can 
 also imagine what a topic for discussion the mur- 
 der of a prisoner by Wirz would produce. 
 
 "Specification 4 
 
 "In this that the said Henry Wirz, an officer 
 in the military service of the so-called Confederate 
 States of America, at Andersonville, in the State 
 of Georgia, on or about the 30th day of May, 
 A. D. 1864, then and there being commandant of 
 a prison there located by the authority of the said 
 so-called Confederate States of America, for the 
 confinement of prisoners of war taken and held as 
 such from the armies of the United States of 
 
The Accusations Against Wirz jg^ 
 
 America, while acting as such commandant, feloni- 
 ously, and of his malice aforethought, did make 
 an assault, and he, the said Henry Wirz, a certain 
 pistol called a revolver then and there loaded and 
 charged with gunpowder and bullets, which said 
 pistol the said Henry Wirz, in his hand then and 
 there held, to, against, and upon a soldier belong- 
 ing to the army of the United States, in his, the 
 said Henry Wirz's custody as a prisoner of war, 
 whose name is unknown, then and feloniously and 
 of his malice aforethought, did shoot, and dis- 
 charge, inflicting upon the body of the soldier 
 aforesaid a mortal wound with the pistol afore- 
 said, in consequence of which said mortal wound 
 immediately inflicted by the said Henry Wirz the 
 said soldier, on the 30th day of May, A. D. 1864, 
 died." 
 
 Not the slightest whit of particulars wanting 
 except the name of the murdered man. 
 
 "Specification 5 
 
 "In this that the said Henry Wirz, an officer 
 in the military service of the so-called Confederate 
 States of' America, at Andersonville, in the State 
 of Georgia, on or about the 20th day of August, 
 A. D. 1864, then and there being commandant of 
 a prison there located by the authority of the so- 
 called Confederate States for the confinement 
 of prisoners of war taken and held as such from 
 
196 The Accusations Against Wirz 
 
 the armies of the United States of America, while 
 acting as said commandant, feloniously, and of his 
 malice aforethought, did confine and bind with an 
 instrument of torture called 'the stocks' a soldier 
 belonging to the army of the United States, in his, 
 the said Henry Wirz's custody as a prisoner of 
 war, whose name is unknown, in consequence of 
 which said cruel treatment, maliciously and mur- 
 derously inflicted as aforesaid, he, the said soldier, 
 to-wit, on the 30th day of August, A. D. 1864, 
 died." 
 
 I am confident that during the month of August, 
 1864, Captain Wirz was absent on sick leave and 
 that Lieutenant Davis was in command at Ander- 
 sonville. 
 
 "Specification 6 
 
 "In this that the said Henry Wirz, an officer 
 in the military service of the so-called Confederate 
 States of America, at Andersonville, in the State 
 of Georgia, on or about the first day of February, 
 A. D. 1864, then and there being commandant of 
 a prison there located by the authority of the so- 
 called Confederate States for the confinement of 
 prisoners of war taken and held as such from the 
 armies of the United States of America, while act- 
 ing as commandant, feloniously and of his malice 
 aforethought, did confine and bind with an instru- 
 ment of torture called 'the stocks' a soldier belong- 
 ing to the army of the United States, in his, the 
 
The Accusations Against Wirz im 
 
 said Henry Wirz's custody as a prisoner of war, 
 whose name is unknown, in consequence of which 
 said cruel treatment, maliciously and murderously 
 inflicted as aforesaid, he, the soldier, to wit, on the 
 sixth day of February, A. D. 1864, died." 
 
 This man lived five days after Wirz's cruel 
 treatment, and yet no one learned his name! 
 Again, Captain Wirz was not in command at 
 Andersonville at that time. Colonel Persons was 
 in command. Captain Wirz did not reach Ander- 
 sonville till about April 12, 1864, and yet this was 
 a portion of the testimony that convicted him. 
 
 "Specification 7 
 
 "In this that the said Henry Wirz, an officer 
 in the military service of the so-called Confederate 
 States of America, at Andersonville, in the State 
 of Georgia, on or about the 20th day of July, 
 A. D. 1864, then and there being commandant of 
 a prison there located by the authority of the said 
 so-called Confederate States for the confinement of 
 prisoners of war taken and held as such from the 
 armies of the United States of America, while act- 
 ing as such commandant, feloniously did fasten and 
 chain together several persons, soldiers belonging 
 to the army of the United States in his, the said 
 Henry Wirz's custody as prisoners of war, whose 
 names are unknown, binding the necks and feet of 
 said soldiers closely together and compelling them 
 
igS The Accnsations Against Wirz 
 
 to carry great burdens, to-wit, large iron balls 
 chained to their feet, so that, in consequence of the 
 said cruel treatment Inflicted upon them by the 
 said Henry Wirz as aforesaid, one of said soldiers, 
 a prisoner of war as aforesaid, whose name is un- 
 known, on the 25th day of July, A. D. 1864, 
 died." 
 
 The credulity of the Judge-Advocate was in- 
 deed marvelous ! Is it not singular that he did not 
 insist at the trial that the name of at least one of 
 those "unknown" be produced? Not a name of 
 one of those victims was given at the trial. 
 
 "Specification 8 
 
 "In this that the said Henry Wirz, an officer 
 in the military service of the so-called Confederate 
 States of America, at Andersonville, in the State 
 of Georgia, on or about the 15th day of May, 
 A. D. 1864, then and there being commandant of 
 a prison there located by the authority of the so- 
 called Confederate States, for the confinement of 
 prisoners of war taken and held as such from the 
 armies of the United States of America, while act- 
 ing as said commandant, feloniously, wilfully and 
 of his malice aforethought, did order a rebel 
 soldier, whose name is unknown, then on duty as 
 sentry or guard to the prison of which the said 
 Henry Wirz was commandant as aforesaid, to 
 fire upon a soldier belonging to the army of the 
 
The Accusations Against Wirz XQQ 
 
 United States in his, the said Henry Wirz's, 
 custody as a prisoner of war, whose name is un- 
 known; and in pursuance of said order so as afore- 
 said, maliciously and murderously given as afore- 
 said, he, the said rebel soldier, did, with a musket 
 loaded with gunpowder and bullet, then and there 
 fire at the said soldier so as aforesaid held as a 
 prisoner of war, inflicting upon him a mortal 
 wound with the musket aforesaid, of which he, the 
 said prisoner, soon thereafter, to-wit, on the day 
 aforesaid, died." 
 
 The shooting was alleged to have been done in 
 the broad light of day in the presence of thou- 
 sands, but none could give the name of the man. 
 
 "Specification 9 
 
 "In this that the said Henry Wirz, an officer 
 in the military service of the so-called Confederate 
 States of America, at Andersonville, in the State 
 of Georgia, on or about the first day of July, 
 A. D. 1864, there and then being commandant of 
 a prison there located by the authorities of the said 
 so-called Confederate States for the confinement of 
 prisoners of war taken and held as such from the 
 armies of the United States of America, while act- 
 ing as said commandant, feloniously, and of his 
 malice aforethought, did order a rebel soldier, 
 whose name is unknown, then on duty as sentinel 
 or guard to the prison of which the said Wirz 
 
200 ^I^e Accusations Against Wirz 
 
 Was commandant as aforesaid, to fire upon a 
 soldier belonging to the army of the United States, 
 in his, the said Henry Wirz's, custody as a prisoner 
 of war, whose name is unknown; and in pursuance 
 of said order so as aforesaid, maliciously and mur- 
 derously given as aforesaid, he, the said rebel 
 soldier, did, with a musket loaded with gunpowder 
 and bullet, then and there fire at the said soldier so 
 as aforesaid held as a prisoner of war, inflicting 
 upon him a mortal wound with the said musket, of 
 which he, the said prisoner, soon thereafter, to-wit, 
 on the day aforesaid, died." 
 
 "Specification io 
 
 "In this that the said Henry Wirz, an officer 
 in the military service of the so-called Confederate 
 States of America, at Andersonville, in the State 
 of Georgia, on the 20th day of August, A. D. 
 1864, then and there being commandant of a 
 prison there located by the authority of the so- 
 called Confederate States for the confinement of 
 prisoners of war taken and held as such from the 
 armies of the United States of America, while act- 
 ing as said commandant, feloniously, and of his 
 malice aforethought, did order a rebel soldier, 
 whose name is unknown, then and there on duty as 
 sentinel or guard to the prison of which the said 
 Henry Wirz was commandant as aforesaid, to fire 
 upon a soldier belonging to the army of the United 
 States, in his, the said Henry Wirz's, custody as a 
 
The Accusations Against Wirz 20 1 
 
 prisoner of war, whose name is unknown, and in 
 pursuance of said order so as aforesaid, maliciously 
 and murderously given as aforesaid, he, the said 
 rebel soldier did, with a musket loaded with gun- 
 powder and bullet, then and there fire at said 
 soldier as aforesaid held as a prisoner of war, in- 
 flicting upon him a mortal wound, with the said 
 musket, of which he, the said prisoner, to-wit, on 
 the day aforesaid, died." 
 
 Notwithstanding the fact that Captain Wirz at 
 this time was on sick leave, the findings of the court 
 was "guilty" upon this specification. 
 
 "Specification ii 
 
 "In this that the said Henry Wirz, an officer 
 in the military service of the so-called Confederate 
 States of America, at Andersonville, in the State 
 of Georgia, on or about the first day of July, 
 A. D. 1864, then and there being commandant of 
 a prison there located by the authorities of the so- 
 called Confederate States for the confinement of 
 prisoners of war taken and held as such from the 
 armies of the United States of America, while act- 
 ing as said commandant, feloniously, and of his 
 malice aforethought, did cause, incite, and urge 
 certain ferocious and blood-thirsty animals called 
 bloodhounds to pursue, attack, wound and tear in 
 pieces a soldier belonging to the army of the 
 United States in his, the said Henry Wirz's, cus- 
 
202 The Accusations Against Wirz 
 
 tody as a prisoner of war, whose name is unknown, 
 and in consequence thereof, the said bloodhounds 
 did then and there, with the knowledge, encour- 
 agement, and instigation of him, the said Henry 
 Wirz, maliciously and murderously given by him, 
 attack and mortally wound the said soldier, in con- 
 sequence of which said mortal wound he, the said 
 prisoner, soon thereafter, to-wit, on the sixth day 
 of July, A. D. 1864, died." 
 
 All the particulars, notice, are given and testi- 
 fied to except the man's name. The prisoner lived 
 six days after being mangled by the bloodhounds, 
 and yet no one ascertained his name I 
 
 "Specification 12 
 
 "In this that the said Henry Wirz, an officer 
 in the military service of the so-called Confederate 
 States of America, at Andersonville, in the State 
 of Georgia, on or about the 27th day of July, 
 A. D. 1864, then and there commandant of a 
 prison located by the authority of the so-called 
 Confederate States for the confinement of prison- 
 ers of war taken and held as such from the armies 
 of the United States, while acting as said com- 
 mandant, feloniously, and of his malice afore- 
 thought, did order a rebel soldier, whose name is 
 unknown, then on duty as sentinel or guard to the 
 prison of which the said Henry Wirz was com- 
 mandant as aforesaid, to fire upon a soldier be- 
 
The Accusations Against Wirz 203 
 
 longing to the army of the United States, in his, 
 the said Henry Wirz's, custody as a prisoner of 
 war, whose name is unknown, and in pursuance of 
 said order so as aforesaid, maliciously and mur- 
 derously given as aforesaid, he, the said rebel 
 soldier, did, with a musket loaded with gunpowder 
 and bullet, then and there fire at said soldier so as 
 aforesaid held as a prisoner of war, inflicting upon 
 him a mortal wound with the said musket, of which 
 said mortal wound he, the said prisoner, soon after, 
 to-wit, on the day aforesaid, died. 
 
 "Specification 13 
 
 "In this that the said Henry Wirz, an officer 
 in the military service of the so-called Confederate 
 States of America, at Andersonville, in the State 
 of Georgia, on the 3rd day of August, A. D. 1 894, 
 then and there being commandant of a prison there 
 located by the authority of the so-called Con- 
 federate States of America, for the confinement of 
 prisoners of war taken and held as such from the 
 armies of the United States of America, while act- 
 ing as said commandant, feloniously, and of his 
 malice aforethought, did make an assault upon a 
 soldier of the United States in his, the said Henry 
 Wirz's, custody as a prisoner of war, whose name 
 is unknown, and with a pistol called a revolver, 
 then and there held in the hands of the said Henry 
 Wirz, did beat and bruise said soldier upon the 
 head, shoulders, and breast, inflicting thereby 
 
204 '^^^ Accusations Against Wirz 
 
 mortal wounds, from which said beating and bruis- 
 ing and mortal wounds caused thereby, the said 
 soldier, on the fourth day of August, A. D. 1864, 
 died. 
 
 "By order of the President of the United States. 
 
 "N. P. Chipman, 
 "Colonel, A. A. D. C. Judge-Advocate." 
 
 (In the above specifications I have italicized the 
 "whose name is unknown.") 
 
 These were the charges upon which Major 
 Henry Wirz, C. S. A., was tried, condemned, and 
 hanged. His counsel filed pleas in bar to the 
 charges and Wirz pleaded "not guilty." 
 
 1st. That he had been offered protection by 
 Gen. J. H. Wilson, that he should not be held a 
 prisoner. 
 
 2nd. He denied the jurisdiction of the court to 
 try him. 
 
 3rd. That the war being ended and civil law re- 
 stored, there was no military law under which he 
 could be tried. 
 
 4th. He moved to quash the charges for vague- 
 ness as to time, place and manner of offense. 
 
 5 th. He claimed a discharge, because as an of- 
 ficer in the Confederate Army he was entitled to 
 the terms agreed to between Generals Sherman 
 and Johnston upon the surrender of the latter. 
 
 The pleas being overruled, he pleaded "not 
 guilty" to all the charges. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 THE TRIAL 
 
 Everything being in readiness, the case was 
 called August 25, 1865. 
 
 Col. N. P. Chipman, U. S. A., Judge-Advocate, 
 had charge of the prosecution, with an array of 
 assistants. Louis Schade, a fellow-countryman of 
 Wirz, was the attorney for the defense. It ap- 
 peared that Colonel Chipman had, from the start, 
 everything his own way. 
 
 There were one hundred and sixty witnesses for 
 the Government. Nearly all of these had been 
 prisoners at Andersonville. 
 
 The banner witness for the prosecution was a 
 bright, handsome Andersonville prisoner who gave 
 his name as Felix de la Baume, and his birth place 
 in eastern France, near the Rhine. He was of 
 good address, pleasant-voiced, and intelligent. He 
 saw the most of the killing attributed tO' the 
 prisoner. His omnipresence while at Anderson- 
 ville seemed something bordering on the super- 
 natural. Nothing escaped him. Witness de la 
 Baume held the surging crowd like an inspiration. 
 His grip on the Northern ear was a secure one, as 
 he glibly recounted the numerous and manifold 
 cruelties of Henry Wirz. He captured the court. 
 
2o6 The Trial 
 
 Everything he said was believed and nothing was 
 too heavy for his recital. Among other things of 
 interest that he related was the statement, made 
 without batting an eye, that the Marquis de Lafay- 
 ette, Washington's friend and the hero of the 
 battle of Brandywine, was his grand-uncle. 
 
 On the 19th of October, before the taking of 
 the testimony was concluded, he was appointed to 
 a position in the Department of the Interior. 
 
 Byron has said, "Time, alas, sets all things 
 even." In this case Time didn't wait very long, for 
 on November 21, only eleven days after Major 
 Wirz's execution, de la Baume's official career 
 came suddenly to an end. Some of the German 
 soldiers at Washington recognized in Monsieur, 
 the grand-nephew of Lafayette, a deserter from 
 the Seventh New York Volunteers, whose name 
 was not de la Baume, but plain Felix Oeser, and 
 who was born in Saxony on the other side of the 
 Rhine. Secretary of the Interior Harlan sum- 
 marily dismissed Felix de la Baume-Oeser and 
 Washington society knew him no more. 
 
 For the three months that Wirz languished in 
 jail, before the trial, the radical press of the North 
 was holding him up to the world as the greatest 
 criminal of ancient or modem times. He was por- 
 trayed as a fiend, a demon, and a very monster in 
 human shape. Attorney Louis Schade volunteered 
 to defend Wirz, and when this became known he 
 was ridiculed and lampooned by the press from 
 Boston to Boise. 
 
The Trial 207 
 
 Major Wirz was so feeble, and suffering so 
 much from his old wound, that he was unable to 
 sit or stand, and a sofa was brought into the court- 
 room for him to recline on. This was another 
 cause for an outburst from the press. He was 
 charged with "shamming" to gain sympathy. 
 
 The fact seemed to be demonstrated at the trial 
 that those who were the most favored at Ander- 
 sonville were the best witnesses for the Govern- 
 ment. It was a few of these witnesses that testified 
 that Wirz was guilty of murder that convicted 
 him, and the commission in its findings could not 
 ignore the testimony. 
 
 Out of the one hundred and sixty prisoners at 
 Andersonville who were witnesses, only ten or 
 twelve testified to cruelty on the part of the com- 
 mandant ! 
 
 I was sorely disappointed in not being a witness 
 at the trial, as I expected to be, for I had been 
 notified that I would be called. But for some rea- 
 son I was not. 
 
 The pre-judged condemnation of Henry Wirz 
 has but one parallel in history. There are docu- 
 ments still in existence among the archives of Eng- 
 land from the quaint hand of Thomas Cromwell, 
 the infamous chancellor: "Ye Abbott Redyng 
 must be sent down to be tryed and executed at 
 Redyng" ; and "You must send ye Abbott to Glas- 
 ton to be tryed at Glaston and also to be executed 
 there with his complycys; evydens to be well 
 sortyd and endytments well drawn." 
 
2o8 The Trial 
 
 But once during the seventy-three consecutive 
 days of the trial did Major WIrz show impa- 
 tience and irritation. One day the witness, Gray, 
 gave an extravagant piece of testimony that moved 
 the commission. It was extremely damaging, and 
 the prisoner sat up from his couch with clenched 
 hands and as pale as death. Then he allowed his 
 arms to fall by his side, and bowing his head he 
 buried his face In his hands. 
 
 The scene was depicted and illustrated In the 
 newspapers, as if WIrz had broken down In con- 
 sciousness of his guilt. 
 
 The "Important and reliable" witnesses for the 
 prosecution were de la Baume, Gray, Spenas, 
 Spring, Kellogg, Davidson, and a very few other 
 lesser lights. 
 
 One of the disappointing witnesses from whom 
 much was expected was the truthful Dr. A. W. 
 Barrows. He was a physician before he enlisted, 
 and was hospital steward of the Twenty-seventh 
 Massachusetts Volunteers, and was afterward post- 
 surgeon at a captured post in North Carolina. For 
 some reason or other he had never received a com- 
 mission. He entered Andersonville on May 28, 
 and was there for nearly six months. Owing to his 
 knowledge of medicine and his efficiency as a physi- 
 cian he was paroled by Captain WIrz, and took 
 charge of one of the hospital departments. 
 
 His soul was too large to show Ingratitude to 
 the man who had favored and befriended him, and 
 not a word derogatory to Captain Wire Qould be 
 
The Trial 209 
 
 wrung from him. He testified to the suffering and 
 misery at Andersonville, and was detained as a 
 witness but a few moments. 
 
 There were a few Confederate surgeons, hos- 
 pital attendants, and guards that were subpoened 
 by the Government, and who testified to conditions 
 in and about the prison, but nothing as to cruelty 
 on the part of the defendant. 
 
 The following letter in the original cut quite a 
 figure at the trial: 
 
 "Andersonville, Sept. 17, 1864. 
 
 "Captain Wirz: You will permit Surgeon 
 Jones, who has orders from the Surgeon-General, 
 to visit the sick within the stockade that are under 
 medical treatment. Surgeon Jones is ordered to 
 make certain investigations which may prove use- 
 ful to his profession. 
 
 "Very respectfully, 
 
 "W. S. Winder, A. A. G. 
 
 "By order of Gen. Winder. 
 
 "Captain H. WiRZ, Commandant Prison." 
 
 At this distance this looks like an ordinary, 
 harmless order, but in September and October, 
 1 865, it was not viewed with so much complacency. 
 It was read between the lines, and construed to 
 mean something mysterious and dangerous in the 
 14 
 
2IO The Trial 
 
 highest degree to the perpetuity of the Republic 
 and the peace and dignity thereof. 
 
 Another letter was introduced in evidence that 
 afforded considerable speculation, and this specula- 
 tion had considerable bearing on the case, and all 
 went to prove the presence of a "conspiracy." 
 This piece of evidence was introduced for the pur- 
 pose of showing the machinations and wicked de- 
 signs of the "so-called" Southern Confederacy. 
 Prosecutor Chipman in his closing address dwelt 
 upon it to considerable length. 
 
 It was dated "Richmond, Va., August 6, 
 1864," and directed to "Dr. J. H. White, Surgeon 
 in Charge of the Hospital for Federal Prisoners, 
 Anderson ville, Ga." : 
 
 "Sir: The field of pathological investigation af- 
 forded by the large collection of Federal prisoners 
 in Georgia is of great extent and importance, and 
 it is believed that results of value to the profession, 
 may be obtained by careful examination of the 
 effects of disease upon a large body of men sub- 
 jected to a decided change of climate and the cir- 
 cumstances peculiar to prison life. The surgeon 
 in charge of the hospital for Federal prisoners, to- 
 gether with his assistants, will afford every fa- 
 cility to Surgeon Joseph Jones in the prosecution 
 of the labors ordered by the Surgeon-General. The 
 medical officers will assist in the performance of 
 such post-mortems as Dr. Jones may indicate, in 
 order that this great field for pathological investi- 
 
The Trial 21 1 
 
 gation may be explored for the benefit of the Med- 
 ical Department of the Confederate States Armies. 
 
 "S. P. Moore, 
 "Surgeon-General." 
 
 The reader can read the above letter a dozen 
 times without discovering anything diabolical in it, 
 but the Military Commission thought otherwise. 
 They could see "nothing good coming out of Naz- 
 areth." 
 
 In commenting on this significant letter, histor- 
 ian Ambrose Spencer in his "Narrative of Ander- 
 sonville" (page 249) says: 
 
 "It is hard to conceive with what devilish mal- 
 ice, or criminal devotion to his profession, or reck- 
 less disregard of the high duties imposed upon 
 him — I scarcely know which — he could sit down 
 and deliberately pen such a letter of instructions 
 as that given to Dr. Jones. Was it not enough to 
 have cruelly starved and murdered our soldiers? 
 Was it not enough to have sought to wipe out 
 their very memories by burying them in nameless 
 graves?" 
 
 The very sending of Dr. Jones to Anderson- 
 viUe by Surgeon-General Moore was a meritorious 
 and commendable act! 
 
 I will give only a fragment, because it is enough, 
 of Judge-Advocate Chipman's plea: 
 
212 The Trial 
 
 "Let us see what the evidences are of a com- 
 mon design to murder by starvation these hapless, 
 helpless wretches. First, the officers, high and 
 low, civil and military, whom the evidence impli- 
 cates in this great crime. As I have showed you 
 by the testimony, there were associated in this con- 
 spiracy, as directly implicated and as perpetrators, 
 the prisoner at the bar. Gen. John H. Winder, 
 Surgeon Josiah H. White, Surgeon R. R. Steven- 
 son, Dr. W. J. W. Kerr, Captain R. B. Winder, 
 Captain W. S. Winder, Captain Reed, W. W. 
 Turner, and Benjamin Harris. Remote from 
 the scene, but no less responsible than those named 
 — nay, rather with a greater weight of guilt rest- 
 ing upon them, are the leader of the rebellion, his 
 war minister, his Surgeon-General, his Commis- 
 sary and Quartermaster-General, his Commis- 
 sioner of Exchange, and all others sufficiently high 
 in authority to have prevented these atrocities, and 
 to whom the knowledge of them was brought." 
 
 The testimony was all in and the case came to 
 an end November 4, 1865. 
 
 The deliberations of the commission were brief 
 and the following order was issued. 
 
 "General Court Martial; Order No. 607. 
 
 "War Department, Adjutant General's Office, 
 
 "Washington, D. C, November 6, 1865. 
 
 "Before a Military Commission which convened 
 at Washington, D. C., August 23, 1865, pursuant 
 
The Trial 
 
 213 
 
 to paragraph 3, Special Orders No. 453, dated 
 August 23, 1865, and paragraph 13, Special Or- 
 ders No. 524, dated October 2, 1865, War De- 
 partment, Adjutant-General's Office, Washington, 
 and of which Major-General Lewis Wallace, 
 United States Volunteers, is president, was ar- 
 raigned and tried Henry Wirz. 
 
 "Findings — ^The Commission having maturely 
 considered the evidence adduced, find the accused 
 Henry Wirz as follows: 
 
 "Of the specifications to Charge I, Guilty after 
 amending said specification to read as follows: 
 
 "In this, that the said Henry Wirz, did com- 
 bine, confederate and conspire with them the said 
 Jefferson Davis, James A. Seddon, Howell Cobb, 
 John H. Winder, W. Shelby Reed, R. R. Steven- 
 son, S. P. Moore, W. J. W. Kerr, James Duncan, 
 Wesley W. Turner, Benjamin Harris, and others, 
 whose names are unknown, citizens of the United 
 States aforesaid, and who were then engaged in 
 armed rebellion against the United States, malic- 
 iously, traitorously, and in violation of the laws 
 of war, to impair and injure the health and to de- 
 stroy the lives, by subjecting to great torture and 
 great suffering, by confining in unhealthy and un- 
 wholesome quarters, by exposing to the inclemency 
 of winter and to the dews and burning sun of 
 summer, by compelling the use of impure water, 
 and by furnishing insufficient and unwholesome 
 food, of a large number of Federal prisoners, to 
 
214 
 
 The Trial 
 
 wit: forty-five thousand soldiers in the mili- 
 tary service of the United States of America, 
 held as prisoners of war at Andersonville, in the 
 State of Georgia, within the lines of the so-called 
 Confederate States, on or before the 27th day of 
 March, 1864, and at divers times between that day 
 and the tenth day of April, 1865, to the end, that 
 the armies of the United States might be weakened 
 and impaired, and the insurgents engaged in armed 
 rebellion against the United States might be aided 
 and comforted. 
 
 "Of charge I, Guilty. 
 
 "Of specification first to charge II, Guilty. 
 
 "Of specification second to charge II, Guilty. 
 
 ".Of specification third to charge II, Guilty. 
 
 "Of specification fourth to charge II, Not 
 Guilty. 
 
 "Of specification fifth to charge II, Guilty. 
 
 "Of specification sixth to charge II, Guilty. 
 
 "Of specification seventh to charge II, Guilty. 
 
 "Of specification eighth to charge II, Guilty. 
 
 "Of specification ninth to charge II, Guilty. 
 
 "Of specification tenth to charge II, Guilty. 
 
 "Of specification eleventh to charge II, Guilty. 
 
 "Of specification twelfth to charge II, Guilty. 
 
 "Of specification thirteenth to charge II, Not 
 Guilty. 
 
 "Of charge II, Guilty. 
 
 "Sentence. — And the Commission does there- 
 fore sentence him, the said Henry Wirz, to be 
 hanged by the neck till he be dead, at such time 
 
The Trial 
 
 ai5 
 
 and place as the President of the United States 
 may direct, two-thirds of the court concurring 
 therein. 
 
 "Second. — The proceedings, findings, and sen- 
 tence in the foregoing case having been submitted 
 to the President of the United States the following 
 are his orders : 
 
 " 'Executive Mansion, 
 " 'November 6th, 1865. 
 
 " 'The proceedings, findings, and sentence of the 
 court in the within case are approved, and it is or- 
 dered that the sentence be carried into execution 
 by the officer commanding the Department of 
 Washington on Friday, the loth day of Novem- 
 ber, 1865, between the hours of 6 o'clock A. M. 
 and 12 o'clock noon. 
 
 " 'Andrew Johnson, 
 
 " 'President.' 
 
 "Third.' — Major-General C. C. Augur, com- 
 manding the Department of Washington, is com- 
 manded to cause the foregoing sentence in the case 
 of Henry Wirz to be duly executed in accordance 
 with the President's order. 
 
 "Fourth. — The Military Commission, of 
 which Major-General Lewis Wallace, United 
 States Volunteers, is president, is hereby dissolved. 
 
 "By command of the President of the United 
 States. 
 
 "E. D. TOWNSEND, 
 
 "Assistant Adjutant-General." 
 
2l6 The Trial 
 
 Thus ended the greatest judicial farce enacted 
 since Oliver Cromwell, et al., instituted the com- 
 mission "to try and condemn" Charles I. The 
 condemnation of Henry Wirz was the more pro- 
 nounced outrage of the two, for the remains of 
 Charles I were accorded something like a decent 
 burial, whereas the body of Major Henry Wirz 
 was consigned without ceremony to the prison-yard 
 at Washington. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE LAST DAYS OF WIRZ'S LIFE 
 
 Permit me once more to revert to what I con- 
 sider the most astonishing thing in connection with 
 the trial of Major Wirz. The authorities spent 
 three months in preparation before the trial (if 
 it can be called a trial) began, and it lasted nearly 
 three months, and yet of the thirteen prisoners 
 that Wirz was charged with murdering on his own 
 personal account, not the name of a victim was 
 testified to and not a solitary one of them has been 
 named since that time! 
 
 Think of it. Some of the prisoners lived three 
 and four days after the alleged clubbing and shoot- 
 ' ing by Wirz, and one of the prisoners who was 
 beaten, it was testified to by three or four wit- 
 nesses, lived six days before he died, and notwith- 
 standing thousands were in and about the prison 
 no one could name them or knew who they were ! 
 
 The dates of the alleged assaults, the facts down 
 to the most minute particular were testified to with 
 exactness, but in every case the most important 
 thing — the name — ^was wanting. 
 
 After sentence was passed upon Wirz the au- 
 thorities kindly allowed Attorney Schade to visit 
 his unfortunate client. The meeting took place in 
 
2l3 The Last Days of Wirz's I/ife 
 
 the prisoner's cell, in the presence of an armed sol- 
 dier. 
 
 Attorney Schade sat beside the prisoner and took 
 his hand, and both wept, but of the two the soldier 
 said that Schade was by far the niore affected. 
 The sympathetic and kind-hearted soldier, in 
 speaking of it afterward, said that the scene was 
 so affecting that he himself could not restrain his 
 tears. 
 
 This man — "this monster" — whom I saw at 
 Andersonvllle more than once melt into tears while 
 deploring the misery and suffering that he was un- 
 able to remedy, had now but four days to live. 
 The sentence was no surprise to him nor to his 
 patient, faithful, but powerless attorney. 
 
 The proceedings of the trial had hardly begun 
 on the first day of the session, when Attorney 
 Schade turned to his client and whispered, "You 
 will be convicted," and the unfortunate victim 
 slowly bowed his head in assent. 
 
 The next day after the interview with his at- 
 torney. Major Wirz being a Roman Catholic, re- 
 quested permission to send for a priest of that 
 faith. His jailors readily assented, and the Rev. 
 F. E. Boyle waited upon Major Wirz in his cell. 
 At the request of Father Boyle the soldier in at- 
 tendance stepped one side. 
 
 Every movement and turn of the prisoner was 
 reported aad dilated upon and embellished by the 
 press. Nothing was spoilt in the telling, and the 
 
The Last Days of Wirz's Iiife 219 
 
 fact that Major Wirz sent for a Roman Catholic 
 priest was heralded throughout the country. 
 
 Some of the newspapers, striving to outstrip 
 their contemporaries in journalistic enterprise, 
 made indecent and insulting comments upon it. 
 "The guilty monster wants to have his sins for- 
 given before he dies." "It will cost him a big sum 
 for his shriving." "The first priest can name a 
 big amount," said one, and at this time poor Wirz 
 did not have a penny. Mr. Schade did not charge 
 him for his service and he did not receive a cent 
 from Wirz, because the poor, poverty-stricken 
 prisoner did not have a cent to pay him. 
 
 Much was made over the fact that he had asked 
 for a priest. This was a marked acknowledgment 
 that he was guilty, or why should he send for a 
 confessor? 
 
 It is well known, or ought to be well known, 
 that every Roman Catholic about to die or when 
 very sick sends for a priest. In that church there 
 is a sacrament known as extreme unction, "the last 
 rites of the church," and every member tries to 
 avail himself of that rite. It is a universal custom 
 in the Catholic church. 
 
 Even those philanthropic women whom Henry 
 Ward Beecher, in a lecture delivered in 1865 or 
 1866, while speaking of the services of the Cath- 
 olic "Sisters" on the field of battle and in the hos- 
 pitals called "Human Angels," will call for a priest 
 when about to die. 
 
 At this time Jefferson Davis, President of the 
 
220 The Last Days of Wirz's liife 
 
 "so-called" Southern Confederacy, was in prison 
 under indictment, and Lee and Johnston, owing to 
 the terms agreed upon by Grant and Sherman, 
 were free. 
 
 Louis Schade until he died always asserted that 
 emissaries waited on him a few days before Wirz's 
 execution and assured him that if the condemned 
 man would implicate Jefferson Davis in the mur- 
 ders (?) at Andersonville that the sentence of 
 Wirz would be commuted. 
 
 ' For more than forty years this statement has 
 been discredited in the North and stigmatized as 
 something worse than a wild romance. No credit 
 whatever is attached to the late Attorney Louis 
 Schade's voluntary statement. It Is regarded as 
 a falsehood pure and simple. As to the truth or 
 falsity of the statement I know nothing; but let 
 us briefly consider the evidence on that head for 
 what it Is worth. 
 
 Louis Schade said that the same statement was 
 made to Father Boyle. The following is a copy 
 of a letter written by Father Boyle to Jefferson 
 Davis : 
 
 "Washington, D. C, October lo, 1880. 
 "Hon. Jefferson Davis. 
 
 "Dear Sir : Absence from the city and the de- 
 sire since my return to obtain information on the 
 subject of your letter have delayed my answer. I 
 have not succeeded in the latter purpose. But I 
 know that on the evening before the day of the ex- 
 
The I;ast Days of Wirz's life 221 
 
 ecution of Major Wirz a man visited me, on the 
 part of a Cabinet officer, to inform me that Major 
 Wirz would be pardoned if he would implicate 
 Jefferson Davis in the cruelties at Andersonville. 
 No names were given by this emissary, and upon 
 my refusing to take any action in the matter he 
 went to Mr. Louis Schade, counsel for Major 
 Wirz, with the same purpose and with a like re- 
 sult. 
 
 "When I visited Major Wirz the next morning 
 he told me that the same proposal had been made 
 to him and had been rejected with scorn. The 
 Major was very indignant, and said that, while he 
 was innocent of the charges for which he was about 
 to suffer death, he would not purchase his liberty 
 by perjury and a crime such as was made the con- 
 dition of his freedom. 
 
 "I attended the Major to the scaffold, and he 
 died in the peace of God and praying for his ene- 
 mies. I know that he was indeed innocent of all 
 the cruel charges on which his life was sworn 
 away, and I was edified by the Christian spirit in 
 which he submitted to his persecutors. 
 "Yours very truly, 
 
 "F. E. Boyle." 
 
 It is well known that it was the firm belief in the 
 North at this time that Mr. Davis was more 
 guilty than Major Wirz, and an effort was made 
 to establish that fact. I have faith in Father 
 Boyle's written statement. Not alone because he 
 
222 'The Last Days of Wirz's life 
 
 was a clergyman, but because he had no object 
 in making the statement were it not true. 
 
 I am not a Roman Catholic. I am a Protestant, 
 and come from Protestant stock as far back as can 
 be traced; but knowing Major Wirz as well as I 
 did, I would believe any statement that he would 
 make two hours before his death. 
 
 I was confident that Major Wirz was innocent 
 of the terrible charges of which he was condemned 
 and that Father Boyle stated a fact in his letter 
 to Jefferson Davis when he wrote, "I knew that 
 he was indeed innocent of the cruel charges on 
 which he was about to suffer death." 
 
 A venerable priest. Father Whelan, pastor of a 
 Roman Catholic church at Savannah, Georgia, like 
 the good Father Hamilton, often visited the prison 
 at Andersonville to call on the sick. 
 
 The Confederate Veteran magazine, published 
 at Nashville, Tennessee, in its March number, 
 1907, says: 
 
 "When Captain Wirz was under trial. Father 
 Whelan went to Washington as a witness. He 
 said that upon his arrival the prosecuting attorney 
 asked him what he knew -about the case ; and after 
 he had told all his observations at the prison, he 
 was informed that he was not further wanted and 
 could go home. Col. Robert Ould was another 
 of the witnesses for the defense who were dis- 
 missed by the prosecution without being allowed 
 to testify. Colonel Ould wrote: 
 
The Last Days of Wirz's lAte 223 
 
 " 'I was named by poor Wifz as a witness in 
 his behalf. The summons was issued by Chip- 
 man, the judge-advocate of the military court. I 
 obeyed the summons, and was in attendance upon 
 the court for some ten days. The investigation 
 had taken a wide range as to the conduct of the 
 Confederate and Federal governments in the mat- 
 ter of the treatment of prisoners, and I thought 
 the time had come when I could put before the 
 world these humane offers of the Confederate au- 
 thorities and the manner in which they had been 
 treated. I so expressed myself more than once — • 
 perhaps too publicly. But it was a vain thought. 
 
 " 'Early in the morning of the day on which I 
 expected to give my testimony I received a note 
 requiring me to surrender my subpoena. I refused, 
 as it was my protection in Washington. Without 
 it the doors of the Old Capitol Prison might have 
 opened and closed upon me. I engaged, however, 
 to appear before the court, and I did so the same 
 morning. I still refused to surrender my subpoena, 
 and thereupon the judge-advocate indorsed upon 
 it these words: "The within subpoena is hereby 
 revoked ; the person named is discharged from fur- 
 ther attendance." ' " 
 
 I do not produce the above and similar state- 
 ments from Southern sources for the purpose of 
 reflecting upon Judge-Advocate Chipman or the 
 military court that convicted Wirz, but to show 
 that the temper of the times at that period in our 
 
224 '^^^ ^*®* ^*y* "* Wirz's liife 
 
 history was such that no statement from our late 
 enemies would be credited. 
 
 That Father Whelan and Colonel Ould were in 
 attendance at the trial as witnesses but did not tes- 
 tify is a historical fact. 
 
 On the morning of November lo, 1865, a few 
 hours before he mounted the scaffold, Major Wirz 
 penned the following pathetic letter to his faithful 
 friend and counsel : 
 
 "Old Capitol Prison, 
 "Washington, D. C, November 10, 1865. 
 "Dear Mr. Louis Schade: 
 
 "It is the last time that I address myself to you. 
 What I have said often and often I repeat — accept 
 my thanks, my sincere, heartful thanks, for all you 
 have done for me. May God reward you. I 
 cannot. 
 
 "I still have something more to ask of you, and 
 I am confident you will not refuse to receive my 
 dying request. Please help my poor family, my 
 dear wife and children. War, crudest, has swept 
 everything from me, and to-day my wife and 
 children are beggars! 
 
 "My life is demanded as an atonement. I am 
 willing to give it, and hope that after a while I 
 will be judged differently from what I am now. 
 If any one ought to come to the relief of my fam- 
 ily, it is the people of the South, for whose sake 
 
The Last Days of Wirz's Life 
 
 225 
 
 I have sacrificed all. I know you will excuse me 
 for troubling you again. 
 
 "Farewell, dear sir. May God bless you. 
 "Yours thankfully, 
 
 "H. WiRZ." 
 
 No history of Andersonville written contains a 
 word of the following touching letter sent by 
 Major Wirz four days before his execution to 
 President Andrew Johnson : 
 
 "Old Capitol Prison, 
 "November 6, 1865. 
 
 Mr. President : With a trembling hand, with 
 a heart filled with the most conflicting emotions, 
 and with a spirit hopeful one moment and despair- 
 ing the next, I have taken the liberty of addt-ess- 
 ing you. When I consider your exalted position, 
 when I think for a moment that in your hands rests 
 the weal or woe of millions — ^yea, the peace of the 
 world — ^well may I pause to call to my aid courage 
 enough to lay before you my humble petition. I 
 have heard you spoken of as a man willing and 
 ready at all times and under all circumstances to 
 do justice, and that no man, however humble he 
 may be, need fear to approach you ; and therefore, 
 I have come to the conclusion that you will allow 
 me the same privilege as extended to hundreds and 
 thousands of others. It is not my desire nor inten- 
 tion to enter into an argument as to the merits of 
 IS . , 
 
226 The liast Days of Wirz's liife 
 
 my case. In your hands, if I am rightfully In- 
 formed, are all the records and evidences bearing 
 upon this point, and it would be presumption on 
 my part to say one word about it. There is only 
 one thing that I ask, and it is expressed in a few 
 words: 'Pass your sentence.' 
 
 "For six weary months I have been a prisoner; 
 for six months my name has been in the mouth of 
 every one; by thousands I am considered a mons- 
 ter of cruelty, a wretch that ought not to pollute 
 the earth any longer. Truly, when I pass in my 
 mind over the testimony given, I sometimes almost 
 doubt my own existence, I doubt that I am the 
 Captain Wirz spoken of. I doubt that such a man 
 as he is said to be ever lived, and I am inclined to 
 call on the mountains to fall upon and bury me and 
 my shame. But O, sir, while I wring my hands in 
 mute and hopeless despair, there speaks a small but 
 unmistakable voice within me that says, 'Console 
 thyself; thou knowest thy innocence. Fear not; 
 If men hold thee guilty, God does not, and a new 
 life will pervade your being.' Such has been the 
 state of my mind for weeks and months, and no 
 punishment that human ingenuity can Inflict could 
 increase my distress. 
 
 "The pangs of death are short, and therefore I 
 humbly pray that you will pass your sentence with- 
 out delay. Give me death or liberty. The one I 
 do not fear; the other I crave. If you believe me 
 guilty of the terrible charges that have been heaped 
 upon me, deliver me to the executioner. If not 
 
The Iiast Days of Wirz's Life 227 
 
 guilty in your estimation, restore me to liberty and 
 life. A life as I am now living is no life. I 
 breathe, sleep, eat; but it is only the mechanical 
 functions I perform, and nothing more. What- 
 ever you decide, I shall accept. If condemned to 
 death, I shall suffer without a murmur. If re- 
 stored to liberty I will thank and bless you for it. 
 "I would not convey the idea to your mind, 
 Mr. President, that I court death. Life is sweet; 
 however lowly or humble a man's station may be, 
 he clings to life. His soul is filled with awe when 
 he contemplates the future, the unknown land 
 where judgment is before which he will have to 
 give an account of his words, thoughts, and deeds. 
 Well may I remember, too, that I have erred like 
 all other human beings. But of those things for 
 which I may perhaps suffer a violent death I am 
 not guilty, and God judge me. I have said all that 
 I wished to say. Excuse my boldness in addressing 
 you, but I could not help it. I cannot bear this 
 suspense much longer. May God bless you and be 
 with you ! Your task is a great and fearful one. 
 In life or death I shall pray for you and for the 
 prosperity of the country in which I have passed 
 some of my happiest as well as darkest days. 
 "Very respectfully, 
 
 "H. WiRZ." 
 
 The late Attorney Schade said that this letter 
 was ignored. No reply was made to it. 
 
 On the morning of November 10, Major Henry 
 
228 The Last Days of Wirz's Life 
 
 Wirz received the last rites of his church. He told 
 Father Boyle that he forgave his enemies. He 
 made his peace with God, and when the officer 
 who had charge of the execution came to notify 
 him that the time had come, Wirz responded, "I 
 am ready, sir," and in company with the officer, 
 guard, and Father Boyle, mounted the steps lead- 
 ing to the scaffold. He met his death without a 
 tremor, like the brave man that he was. 
 
 Shortly after her husband was placed in the 
 Washington prison, Mrs. Wirz came to Washing- 
 ton City and remained there several weeks. 'She 
 rarely had an opportunity to meet her husband or 
 converse with him. 
 
 During the time that she was in Washington her 
 brother, who resided at Cadiz, Kentucky, went to 
 Georgia and returned to his home with Major 
 Wirz's little ten-year-old daughter and her two 
 sisters, the daughters of Mrs. Wirz by a former 
 marriage. 
 
 Shortly before the execution the final parting 
 between Major Wirz and his wife took place in 
 the prison, and the heart-broken woman returned 
 to her children at the home of her brother. 
 
 Major Wirz was the object of that popular in- 
 justice that personifies causes and demands vic- 
 tims for unpopular movements. All the accumu- 
 lated passions of the war were concentrated upon 
 this one man. He was the magnet that drew the 
 Northern wrath to satiety. 
 
 After his death t^ie North drew a long breath 
 
The Iiast Days ot Wirz's Life 
 
 229 
 
 and began to think. The truth "crushed to earth" 
 began slowly to rise, and the facts that had been 
 suppressed at Washington relative to the non-ex- 
 change of prisoners became partially known. Dur- 
 ing the summer and fall of 1864 the understanding 
 in the North was that the Southern Confederacy 
 preferred to murder prisoners by starvation rather 
 than exchange them. The North was slow to 
 learn the falsity of this charge, but about the time 
 of Major Wirz's death or soon after the scales 
 began slowly to fall from Northern eyes. 
 
 During the trial of Major Wirz and at the time 
 of his execution, Major R. B. Winder, the Con- 
 federate officer who was on duty at Andersonville 
 and who was charged with Major Wirz as an ac- 
 complice in the conspiracy to starve and murder 
 "Union prisoners," was shortly afterward liber- 
 ated. 
 
 The revulsion of feeling in the North over the 
 unjust execution of poor Wirz was too strong even 
 for "the great War Secretary" to face, and Jeffer- 
 son Davis, Alex. H. Stephens, General Cobb, Jo- 
 siah H. White, R. R. Stevenson, W. J. W. Kerr, 
 Captain Reed, and last but not least, Colonel Ould, 
 the "Confederate Commissioner of Exchange," 
 were never brought to trial I Therefore, poor ill- 
 fated Wirz must have "conspired" single-handed 
 and alone to starve and murder Union prisoners ! 
 
 The attitude of the New York News regarding 
 the trial and execution of Captain Wirz was strik- 
 
230 The liost Days of Wirz's liife 
 
 ingly in contrast to the Northern journals of the 
 day. 
 
 In December, 1865, the News published a cor- 
 respondence from Macon, Georgia, of which the 
 following is an extract. I give it to show the feel- 
 ing in the South at the time, and it is the same 
 to-day : 
 
 "It has been some weeks since the trial of Cap- 
 tain Wirz, but it is not too late to say that his exe- 
 cution has produced a painful sensation throughout 
 the Southern States. At the time of his arrest the 
 people here knew but little of the commandant at 
 Andersonville, and cared less; but subsequent de- 
 velopments, and especially the bloodthirsty dispo- 
 sition evinced by the Government of a great na- 
 tion and the manly bearing of the prisoner on the 
 scaffold, have made the whole Southern people 
 mourners over his grave. They never believed 
 him nor anybody else guilty of the crimes alleged 
 against him. They knew it was impossible for 
 such crimes to be committed without their knowl- 
 edge. They knew more — that the people of these 
 much-abused and much-wronged States are in- 
 capable of such barbarities. When, therefore. 
 Captain Wirz, standing under the gallows and on 
 the very brink of the grave, declared his inno- 
 cence, they believed he spoke the truth. 
 
 "This is not all. They believed that Stanton 
 wanted to treat the populace at the North to a 
 bloody spectacle; they believed he wanted to di- 
 
The Last Days of Wirz's Idfe 231 
 
 vert attention from his own barbarous and persist- 
 ent refusal to exchange prisoners of war ; they be- 
 lieved he deliberately resolved to make poor Wirz 
 the scapegoat of the iniquities of his own Govern- 
 ment and of himself, and to this end he violated 
 the spirit and the letter of the military convention 
 between Johnston and Sherman as well as the fun- 
 damental law of the land. They believed, more- 
 over, that the military commission before which 
 Wirz was tried, setting aside all decency and 
 catching at the spirit of the Secretary of War, 
 was overbearing and dictatorial, and that he 
 did not have a fair trial. And, finally, they 
 believed the war minister of the Government, tak- 
 ing counsel of his passions, his prejudices, and his 
 hatreds, sought by the conviction and execution of 
 Wirz to write a false chapter in the history of the 
 war and to infamize the South. 
 
 "No one knows so well as the Secretary of War 
 how much foundation there is for this belief. That 
 there is some foundation for it is proved by the fol- 
 lowing truthful statement : One of the most truth- 
 ful and reliable men in Georgia, an eminent sur- 
 geon, was summoned to Washington as a witness 
 for the prosecution. Supposing the judge-advocate 
 was desirous only of getting the truth he went to 
 him before he was put on the stand and stated to 
 him that the vaccine matter used upon the prison- 
 ers at Andersonville was introduced into the 
 South from abroad, and was used upon the women 
 and children in the country just as it was at the 
 
232 The liBst Days of Wirz's Life 
 
 prison and with precisely the same effect, until it 
 was discovered to be deleterious. This statement 
 was made to disabuse the mind of the judge-ad- 
 vocate of the impression that an unfit article of 
 vaccine matter had been used upon the prisoners 
 for the purpose of destroying them. And yet the 
 judge-advocate failed to interrogate the witness 
 upon this point when he put him on the standi 
 Nay, more; when the witness was subsequently 
 recalled by the defense and asked to explain this 
 matter, the judge-advocate used all his legal in- 
 genuity to prevent the truth coming out I 
 
 "But further: A returned prisoner had testified 
 to a chapter of horror at Andersonville. Upon 
 descending from the stand and being accosted by 
 an acquaintance in the lobby, he remarked in the 
 hearing of the surgeon alluded to above that what 
 he had just sworn to 'was all a d — lie' ; and that 
 others had been telling big lies, and he thought he 
 would see if he could not beat them all; and if 
 the defense would secure him against a prosecu- 
 tion, he would return to the stand and swear it all 
 away. 
 
 "Captain Wirz seemed solicitous in his parting 
 interview with Captain Winder about his future 
 reputation. His uneasiness was groundless, so far 
 as the South is concerned. He is already regarded 
 as the victim of a conspiracy against the truth of 
 history — a martyr, who met his fate with a grace 
 and heroism that has never been excelled. How 
 much good such an execution will accomplish in 
 
The Iia«t Days of Wirz's liife 233 
 
 restoring friendly feeling to the people of the two 
 sections and connecting the torn and blood-stained 
 Union remains to be seen. The military gentle- 
 men who composed the commission, with Mr. 
 Stanton at their back, have had their fleeting 
 triumph. Wirz will have his in history. The day 
 will yet come when they will deplore the parts they 
 played in this disreputable tragedy. The truth 
 cannot be always hid under a bushel. The radical 
 conspirators against history may have the ear of 
 the world just now, but sooner or later the truth 
 will come out. 'The eternal years of God are 
 hers.' The followers of Davis, Lee, and Jackson 
 can bide their time, remembering what the 
 great poet of Israel said: 'I have seen the wicked 
 in great power, and spreading himself like a green 
 bay tree; yet he passed away, and lo! he is not.' " 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 wiRz's attorney's final word 
 
 The following letter, which appeared in a 
 Washington, D. C, newspaper, was addressed to 
 the American public and was written by Captain 
 Wirz's attorney: 
 
 "Washington, D. C, 
 
 "April 4, 1867. 
 "To the American Public: 
 
 "Intending to leave the United States, I feel it 
 my duty before I start to fulfill a promise which, 
 a few hours before his death, I gave to my un- 
 fortunate client. Captain Henry Wirz, who was 
 executed at Washington on the loth of Novem- 
 ber, 1865. Protesting up to the last moment his 
 innocence of those monstrous crimes with which he 
 was charged, he received my word that, having 
 failed to save him from a felon's doom, I would 
 as long as I lived do everything in my power to 
 clear his memory. I did that the more readily, as 
 I was then already convinced that he suffered 
 wrongfully. Since that time his unfortunate child- 
 ren, both here and In Europe, have constantly im- 
 plored me to wipe out the terrible stains which now 
 cover the name of their father. 
 
 "Though the times do not seem propitious for 
 
WIpz's Attorney's Final Word 235 
 
 obtaining justice, yet, considering that man is mor- 
 tal, I will, before entering upon a perilous voyage, 
 perform ray duty to those innocent orphans and 
 also to myself. I will now give a brief statement 
 of the causes which led to the arrest and execution 
 of Captain Wirz. 
 
 "In April, 1865, President Johnson issued a 
 proclamation stating that from evidence in the pos- 
 session of the Bureau of Military Justice it ap- 
 peared that Jefferson Davis was implicated in the 
 assassination of Abraham Lincoln, and for that 
 reason the President offered one hundred thousand 
 dollars for the capture of the then fugitive ex- 
 President of the Southern Confederacy. That tes- 
 timony has since been found to be entirely false 
 and a mere fabrication, and the suborner, Conover, 
 is now under sentence in the jail in this city, the 
 two perjurers whom he suborned having turned 
 state's evidence against him ; whilst the individual 
 by whom Conover was suborned has not yet been 
 brought to justice. 
 
 "Certain high and influential enemies of Jeffer- 
 son Davis, either then already aware of the charac- 
 ter of the testimony of those witnesses, or not 
 thinking their testimony quite sufficient to hang 
 Mr. Davis, expected to find the wanting material 
 in the terrible raortality of Union prisoners at An- 
 dersonville. 
 
 "Orders were issued accordingly to arrest a sub- 
 altern oflicer, Captain Wirz, a poor, friendless, 
 and wounded prisoner of war (he being included 
 
236 Wirz's Attorney's Final Word 
 
 in the surrender of General Johnston) and besides, 
 a foreigner by birth. On the ninth of May he was 
 placed in the Old Capitol prison at Washington, 
 and from that time the greater part of the North- 
 ern press was busily engaged in forming the un- 
 fortunate man in the eyes of the Northern people 
 into such a monster that it became almost im- 
 possible to obtain counsel; even his countryman, 
 the Swiss Consul-General, publicly refused to ac- 
 cept money to defray the expenses of the trial. He 
 was doomed before he was heard, and even the 
 permission to he heard according to law was de- 
 nied him. 
 
 "To increase the excitement and give eclat to the 
 proceeding and to influence still more the public 
 mind the trial took place under the very dome of 
 the Capitol of the nation. 
 
 "A military commission, presided over by a 
 despotic general, was formed, and the paroled pris- 
 oner of war, his wounds still open, was so feeble 
 that he had to recline during the trial on a sofa. 
 How that trial was conducted the whole world 
 knows! 
 
 "The enemies of generosity and humanity be- 
 lieved it to be a sure thing to get at Jefferson Da- 
 vis, therefore the first charge was that of conspir- 
 acy between Henry Wirz, Jefferson Davis, Howell 
 Cobb, R. B. Winder, R. R. Stevenson, W. J. W. 
 Kerr, and a number of others to kill the Union 
 prisoners. 
 
 "The trial lasted for three months ; but fortun- 
 
Wirz's Attorney's Pinal Word 237 
 
 ately for the blood-thirsty instigators, not a par- 
 ticle of evidence was produced showing the exist- 
 ence of such a conspiracy; yet Captain JVirz was 
 found guilty of that charge! 
 
 "Having thus failed, another effort was made. 
 On the night before the execution of the prisoner 
 (November 9, 1865) a telegram was sent to the 
 Northern press from this city, stating that Wirz 
 had made important disclosures to General L. C. 
 Baker, the well-known detective, implicating Jef- 
 ferson Davis, and that the confession would prob- 
 ably be given to the public. On the same even- 
 ing some parties came to the confession of Wirz, 
 Rev. Father Boyle, and also to me, one of them in- 
 forming me that a high Cabinet official wished to 
 assure Wirz that if he would implicate Jefferson 
 Davis with the atrocities committed at Anderson- 
 ville, his sentence would be commuted. The mes- 
 senger requested me to inform Wirz of this. In 
 the presence of Father Boyle, I told Wirz next 
 morning what had happened. 
 
 "The Captain simply and quietly replied, 'Mr. 
 Schade, you know that I have always told you that 
 I do not know anything about Jefferson Davis. 
 He had no connection with me as to what was. done 
 at Andersonville. If I knew anything about him, 
 I would not become a traitor against him or any- 
 body else even to save my life.' 
 
 "He likewise denied that he had ever made any 
 statement to General Baker. Thus ended the at- 
 tempt to suborn Captain Wirz against Jefferson 
 
238 Wirz's Attorney's Final Word 
 
 Davis. That alone shows what a man he was. 
 How many of his defamers would have done the 
 same? With his wounded arm in a sling, the poor 
 paroled prisoner mounted the scaffold two hours 
 later. His last words were that he died innocent, 
 and so he did. 
 
 "The loth of November, 1865, will indeed be 
 a black stain upon the pages of American history. 
 
 "To weaken the effect of his declaration of in- 
 nocence and of the noble manner in which Wirz 
 died, a telegram was manufactured here and sent 
 North stating that on the 27th of October, Mrs. 
 Wirz (who actually on that day was nine hundred 
 miles from Washington) had been prevented by 
 that Stantonian deus ex machina, General L. C. 
 Baker, from poisoning her husband. Thus at the 
 time when the unfortunate family lost their hus- 
 band and father, a cowardly and atrocious attempt 
 was made to blacken their character also. On the 
 next day I branded the whole as a lie, and since 
 then I have never heard of it again, though it 
 emanated from a brigadier-general of the United 
 States Army. 
 
 "All those who were charged with having con- 
 spired with Captain Wirz have since been released, 
 except Jefferson Davis. Captain Winder was let 
 off without trial; and if any of the others have 
 been tried, which I do not know, certainly not one 
 of them has been hanged. As Captain Wirz could 
 not conspire alone, nobody will now, in view of 
 
Wirz's Attorney's Final Word 230 
 
 that important fact, consider him guilty of that 
 charge. 
 
 "As to 'murder in violation of the laws and cus- 
 toms of war,' I do not hesitate to assert that about 
 one hundred and forty-five out of one hundred 
 and sixty witnesses that testified on both sides, de- 
 clared during the trial that Captain Wirz nevei 
 murdered or killed any Union prisoners with his 
 own hands or otherwise. 
 
 "Those witnesses, some twelve or fifteen, who 
 testified that they saw Wirz kill prisoners with his 
 own hands or otherwise, swore falsely, abundant 
 proof of that assertion being in existence. The 
 hands of Captain Henry Wirz are clear of the 
 blood of prisoners of war. He would certainly 
 have at least intimated to me a knowledge of the 
 alleged murders with which he was charged. No 
 names of the alleged murdered men could be given, 
 and when it was done no such prisoner could be 
 found or identified. 
 
 "The terrible scene in court when he was con- 
 fronted with one of the witnesses, and the latter 
 insisting that Wirz was the man who killed a cer- 
 tain Union prisoner which irritated Wirz so much 
 that he nearly fainted, will still be remembered. 
 That witness, Gray, swore falsely, and God alone 
 knows what the poor innocent prisoner must have 
 suffered at that moment. The scene was depicted 
 and illustrated in the Northern newspapers as if 
 Wirz had broken down on account of his guilt. 
 
240 Wirz's Attorney's Final Word 
 
 Seldom has a mortal man suffered more than ths 
 friendless and forsaken man. 
 
 "But who is responsible for the many lives that 
 were lost at Andersonville and in the Southern 
 prisons? That question has not fully been settled, 
 but history will yet tell on whose heads the guilt 
 for those sacrificed hecatombs of human beinigs is 
 to be placed. It was certainly not the fault of poor 
 Wirz, when in consequence of medicines being de- 
 clared contraband of war by the North, the Union 
 prisoners died for the want of the same. How 
 often have we read during the war that ladies go- 
 ing South had been arrested and placed in the Old 
 Capitol Prison by the Union authorities, because 
 genuine and other medicine had been found in 
 their clothing! Our Navy prevented the ingress 
 of medical stores from the seaside and our troops 
 repeatedly destroyed drug stores and even the sup- 
 plies of private physicians in the South. 
 
 "Thus the scarcity of medicine became general 
 all over the South. 
 
 "That provisions in the South were scarce will 
 astonish nobody, when it is remembered how the 
 war was carried on. General Sheridan boasted in 
 his re,port that in the Shenandoah Valley alone he 
 burned more than two thousand bams filled with 
 wheat and corn and all the mills in the whole tract 
 of country; that he destroyed all factories and 
 killed or drove off every animal, even poultry, that 
 could contribute to human sustenance. And these 
 desolations were repeated in different part§ gf the 
 
Wipz's Attorney's Final Word 
 
 241 
 
 South, and so thoroughly that money had to be 
 appropriated to keep the people from starving. 
 The destruction of railroads and other means of 
 transportation by which food could be supplied 
 by abundant districts to those without it increased 
 the difficulties in giving sufficient food to our pris- 
 oners. 
 
 "The Confederate authorities, aware of their 
 inability to maintain the prisoners, informed the 
 Northern agents of the great mortality, and ur- 
 gently requested that the prisoners should be ex- 
 changed, even without regard to the surplus, which 
 the Confederates had on the exchange roll from 
 former exchanges — ^that is, man for man. But 
 our War Department did not consent to an ex- 
 change. They did not want to 'exchange skeletons 
 for healthy men.' 
 
 "Finally, when all hopes for exchange were 
 gone. Colonel Ould, the Confederate Commis- 
 sioner of Exchange, offered early in August, 1864, 
 to deliver up all sick and wounded without requir- 
 ing an equivalent in return, and pledged that the 
 number would amount to ten or fifteen thousand, 
 and if it did not he would make up either number 
 by adding well men. Although this offer was 
 made in August, the transportation was not sent 
 for them until December, although he urged that 
 haste be made. During that very period most of 
 the deaths occurred. It might be well to inquire 
 16 
 
242 Wirz's Attorney's Pinal Word 
 
 who these 'skeletons' were that Secretary of War 
 Stanton did not want to exchange for healthy men. 
 
 "A noble and brave soldier never permits his 
 antagonist to be calumniated and trampled upon 
 after an honorable surrender. Besides, notwith- 
 standing the decision of the highest legal tribunal 
 in the land that military commissions are unconsti- 
 tutional, and earnest and able protestations of 
 President Johnson and the results of military com- 
 missions, yet such military commissions are again 
 established by recent legislation of Congress all 
 over the suffering and starving South. History is 
 just, and, as Mr. Lincoln used to say, 'We cannot 
 escape history.' Puritanical hypocrisy, self-adula- 
 tion, and self-glorification will not save the enemies 
 of liberty from their just punishment. 
 
 "Not even Christian burial of the remains of 
 Captain Wirz has been allowed by Secretary Stan- 
 ton. They still lie side by side with those of an- 
 other and acknowledged victim of military com- 
 missions, the unfortunate Mrs. Surratt, in the yard 
 of the former jail of this city. 
 
 "If anybody should desire to reply to this, I 
 politely beg that It may be done before the first of 
 May next, as I shall leave the country — ^but to re- 
 turn in the fall. After that day letters will reach 
 me In care of the American Legation or Mr. Bene- 
 dete Bobzani, Leipsig Street, No. 38, Berlin, 
 Prussia. 
 
 "Louis Schade, 
 "Attorney at Law." 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE GREAT WAR SECRETARY 
 
 Edwin McMasters Stanton was bom in Ohio, 
 December 19,' 18 14, and graduated at Keftyon 
 College in 1833, and was soon after admitted to 
 the bar. Near the end of Buchanan's adminis- 
 tration, Stanton was called to act as Attorney-Gen- 
 eral. In 1862 President Lincoln had great diflScul- 
 ties with his war ofl&ce, and notwithstanding Stan- 
 ton had always been a Democrat he was appointed 
 Secretary of War. It was like home to lum. His 
 intense vigor, unbounded power of organization, 
 indomitable will, and unflagging industry consti- 
 tuted the principal traits of the great War Secre- 
 tary. 
 
 He was not slow in letting the politicians, the 
 generals, and the public know that he was the Sec- 
 retary of War. 
 
 It has been conceded even by his enemies that 
 the times required a Stanton. 
 
 He was brave, blunt, honest, and outspoken. 
 His quarrels with McClellan, Meade, Grant, and 
 Sherman prove this. Lincoln was too great to 
 quarrel with him and Grant appeared to be the 
 only man with whom he came in contact that didn't 
 fear him. "I'll fight it out on this line if it takes 
 
244 ^"^^ Great War Secretary 
 
 all summer," was Grant's response to repeated or- 
 ders to advance. 
 
 Halleck quailed before him. 
 
 Stanton's obsequious biographer is forced to ad- 
 mit, "It was not easy for his associates to get on 
 with him comfortably." 
 
 An Illinois colonel conspicuously distinguished 
 himself in one of the early battles and was pro- 
 moted brigadier-general. Secretary Stanton was 
 not consulted and knew nothing about it until after 
 the promotion. The brigadier was a well-known 
 friend of the President's, and soon after receiving 
 his commission he visited Washington. He called 
 upon Lincoln and afterward called at the War 
 Department. 
 
 "Mr. Secretary," said he, "I took a run into the 
 city for a few days' rest and called to pay my re- 
 spects." 
 
 "You get back to your brigade at once," roared 
 Stanton. "If you remain in Washington another 
 day, I'll have you court-martialed." 
 
 There was nothing of the trimmer about Secre- 
 tary Stanton, nor the ways of the politician. Hy- 
 pocrisy had no place in his make-up. He was 
 thoroughly incorrupt and incorrigibly honest. 
 After living through boundless opportunities of 
 peculation^ he was so poor when he died that his 
 library had to be sold to defray his funeral ex- 
 penses. 
 
 In 1866 and 1867 he waged a bitter war with 
 President Johnson. He refused to be removed 
 
The Great War Secretary 245 
 
 from the War Department. His fight with the 
 President was a battle of the giants, and during 
 the impeachment proceedings he took an active 
 part, and on the acquittal of Johnson he resigned 
 and resumed the practice of law. In 1869 Presi- 
 dent Grant made him a justice of the Supreme 
 Court; but his mighty work during the trying war 
 times had worn him out, and he died December 
 24, 1869. 
 
 His was a singular character. That he was a 
 man of unswerving integrity, of unbounded 
 patriotism, honesty of purpose, and a man of great 
 executive ability, none will deny; but that his 
 course relative to the non-exchange of prisoners 
 was extremely cruel and cold-blooded, all must 
 confess. 
 
 I love my country — ^my whole country, and was 
 no more loyal to the perpetuity of the Union in 
 1 861 than I am to-day, but I have come to the 
 conclusion that after forty years we can at least 
 afford to tell the truth. 
 
 For more than forty years we of the North 
 have been acting unfairly. We charge the South 
 with all the blame for all the horrors of the Civil 
 War. We pensioners of the Union Army ac- 
 cept without thanks the assessments from the old 
 Confederate taxpayer, but when he suggests the 
 erection of a monument to the brave but unfortu- 
 nate victims of the war, we raise our hands in holy 
 horror and protest, while at the same time we are 
 
246 The Great War Secretary 
 
 contemplating building a monument to John 
 Brown at Harper's Ferry, or at Washington. 
 
 We profess unstinted friendship toward the 
 South, and we are anxious that amity and good 
 feeling between all sections of our common coun- 
 try shall prevail and that all the bitterness of war 
 feeling shall be obliterated forever. Let us be 
 honest and sincere and prove it by asking Con- 
 gress to enact a law granting a pension to our 
 brave, mistaken brother, the maimed and forgiven 
 Confederate soldier. This will never be done, but 
 there is logic and equity in the thought. The 
 Southern taxpayer cheerfully contributes his share 
 toward the national pension appropriation. 
 
 When this takes place it will be living testimony 
 of our protestation of good feeling, amity, and 
 friendship, and it will also be evidence that we are 
 one great, patriotic, Indissoluble nation. 
 
 I beg to remind the critic that censures me for 
 this broad statement, that the Confederate veteran 
 is not a foreigner. He is our brother, he is re- 
 lated to us by the closest blood ties, and he is our 
 countryman. He was mistaken, but for that mis- 
 take is there even now at this late day no forgive- 
 ness? Politics is the only thing In the way to-day 
 preventing our Government from coming to his 
 aid in his declining years. 
 
 To my ex-prisoner comrades who differ with me 
 and still insist that Captain Wirz was guilty and 
 merited his tragic death, I would ask. Do you 
 know of your own knowledge that he ever maimed 
 
The Great War Secretary a^y 
 
 or killed a Union prisoner of war? Isn't it preju- 
 dice, pure and simple, prejudice caused by your 
 privations and suffering at Andersonville? Does 
 not that memory cause your judgment to be 
 warped? I judge Henry Wirz from my personal 
 knowledge of his character. Let us be fair and 
 "place ourselves in the other fellow's place." 
 Would you or could you have done better if you 
 had been in his place under the same circum- 
 stances ? 
 
 And lastly it may be said that I have aired my 
 sentiments too freely and In doing so have been dis- 
 loyal to the North and that I have been over-cen- 
 sorious of my country. I deny it. The South is 
 as much my country as the North. I love and 
 revere the whole land from ocean to ocean, and 
 from the St. Lawrence to the Gulf. In my humble 
 capacity I have completed a work that I have 
 been contemplating for many years. I have no 
 apology to make except it is that I could wish some 
 abler pen than mine had undertaken it — the vindi- 
 cation of an unfortunate and much-wronged man, 
 who was the victim of the times in which he lived. 
 I have touched on other matters, it is true, but was 
 obliged to do so in consequence of the needs of my 
 story, and to portray the temper of the times. I 
 was obliged to handle some matters without 
 gloves, and in doing so may have offended. 
 
 We who have fought during the Civil War for 
 the perpetuity of the Union can testify to the 
 Spartan-like bravery of those who then confronted 
 
248 The Great War Secretary 
 
 US, but who are to-day our countrymen and our 
 brothers. The sectional bitterness, thank God, has 
 disappeared, and let us of the North be honest and 
 manly enough to concede facts. 
 
 The man in gray was sincere in his convictions. 
 He loved his sunny Southland, and no Greek at 
 Thermopylae or Marathon fought more valor- 
 ously for his home and little ones than did the 
 Southern soldier on many a battlefield. He was 
 vanquished and, "turning his back on the battle- 
 field, heavy-hearted, enfeebled by want and 
 wounds, his money worthless, he sought his deso- 
 late home to begin life anew." We came march- 
 ing home with "proud and glorious tread," glad 
 that the cruel war was over, and were welcomed 
 with loud acclaim by our friends and amid the 
 cheers of a grateful nation. What a contrast I 
 
 The loyalty, heroism, devotion, and suffering of 
 the women of the South have never been fully told 
 and never will be fully known. 
 
 Nothing I ever experienced gave me so much 
 pleasure as did the sight of our National emblem 
 on the public buildings in the large cities, in the 
 South, on my visit there a few years ago. I had 
 not been there since I was discharged in 1865, and 
 the change was great. I felt then as I do now, that 
 every American citizen should thank God that we 
 are one people, one country under one flag. 
 
 Then let us wipe out the so-called "Mason and 
 Dixon's line," and hang out the latch-string for 
 each other. 
 
iiiiiiiiiiii 
 
 Siii