INSIDE AND OUTSIDE 
 
 '■ '• , '). ] " , - OF ===== 
 
 ROCK ISLAND 
 
 MAIN AVENUE. ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 
 BY 
 
 J. 
 
 W. MINNICH, &5Hi£45PFfis. 
 
 
 SUPPLEMENTED WITH SKETCH BY 
 
 MRS. 
 
 KATE E. PERRY-MOSHER, 
 
 
 Covington, Ky. 
 
George Washington Flowers 
 Memorial Collection 
 
 DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 
 ESTABLISHED BY THE 
 FAMILY OF 
 COLONEL FLOWERS 
 
J. W. MINN1CH. 
 
INSIDE OF 
 
 ROCK ISLAND PRISON 
 
 FROM 
 
 December, 1863, to June, 1865. 
 
 By J. W. M1N N ICH, 
 
 GRAND IS.LE, LA. 
 
 Nashville, Tfnn.; Dallas. Tex. 
 Publishing Hoi st of the M. E. Church, South. 
 Smith & Lamar, Agents. 
 
 190S. 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2014 
 
 https://archive.org/details/insideofrockislaOOminn 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 Report of Eighteen Months' Experiences, 
 by j. w. minnich, grand isle/ la. 
 
 1 have been called upon and urged by comrades and friends 
 in the North as well as the South (who were not comrades) 
 for nearly forty years to tell the story of my life in Rock 
 Island Prison during a residence of eighteen months of 1864 
 and 1865 in Barrack No. 47. 
 
 I .have always refused to make public the conditions under 
 which we were held there from December, 1863, to the last 
 days of June, 1865. I refused to make public what I know, 
 saw, heard, and, with over twelve thousand others, was sub- 
 jected to during my eighteen months' stay inside the prison, 
 because I did not wish to keep alive the fires of sectional 
 hatred which the war and its causes had engendered. Be- 
 sides, in so doing I must perforce humiliate the men of my 
 own blood and kin who wore the blue throughout the four 
 long-drawn-out bloody years of that stupendous fratricidal 
 strife — men who wore their uniforms honorably and who en- 
 tertained a hearty respect for their opponents in gray, albeit 
 they could not consent to a dismemberment of the Union 
 under any pretext. Nor would I consent at this late day to 
 strike back were it not that there are many of the swash- 
 bucklers of that far-away time still above ground who have 
 not as yet shown the least symptoms of having outgrown 
 their hatred of all things Southern, and who are still singing 
 the old worn-out song of the "Bloody Shirt ;" men who, either 
 in ignorance of the truth or whose hatred of Southerners 
 will not allow them to acknowledge the truth, though it 
 were writ in letters of fire, persist in rehashing the 
 calumnies of that period when passions were at boiling heat. 
 
 Many men who still insist upon the truth of. the charges 
 
4 
 
 ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 made against the Confederate authorities of cruelty to Union 
 prisoners in Southern prisons, and the many crimes laid at 
 the door of unfortunate Henry Wirz and for which on per- 
 jured testimony he was hanged like any ordinary murderer, as 
 well as the complicity of General Winder in all the crimes 
 imputed to Wirz, notwithstanding the fact that Winder was 
 discharged for want of evidence, and since the Grand Army 
 Convention at Minneapolis saw fit to ignore the truth, and 
 brought prominently before the public again those exploded 
 charges with the view of attempting to perpetuate them to the 
 dishonor of a man whom, in order to convict, the prosecution 
 was forced to the basely criminal expedient of suborning wit- 
 nesses on whose perjured testimony Wirz was condemned 
 and hurried to execution within six days, lest by any pos- 
 sible chance the truth concerning the quality of the evidence 
 against him become known to the public, and thereby raise 
 a doubt as to the justness of his conviction (for once dead, he 
 could not ask for a new trial, "based on newly discovered evi- 
 dence" — like those other two unfortunates, Mrs. Surratt and 
 Herrold, hurried to an unjust doom), impel the motive to re- 
 corded truth and justice. 
 
 Because of these things and the reiteration of those charges 
 by the G. A. R. Convention at Minneapolis, by which the 
 South is still being held up to the gaze of this and future 
 generations as a people devoid of humanity as Kurd or Cos- 
 sack, I am led to tell something about the other side of the 
 picture. I shall confine myself strictly to what came under 
 my own personal observation, and without drawing on hearsay 
 except in confirmation of facts stated. Then I will leave it 
 to the judgment of the unprejudiced wherein lay the greater 
 responsibility as between a people whose resources had been 
 drained by over three years' war, with a large part of their 
 territory in the hands of an invading hostile force, with lines 
 of communications severed, and almost totally cut off from 
 communication with the outside world, who could not give a 
 decent ration to the men who were guarding the prisoners 
 within their limits, much less of food and clothing to the 
 armies in the field struggling against double their own num- 
 bers ; or, on the other hand, a people who had every facility 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 5 
 
 to draw' on the world for all their requirements, with fields 
 untouched by the ravages of war, with granaries full, and 
 with every industry unchecked, who knew naught of dev- 
 asted fields, blackened ruins of homes and factories, of the 
 desperate silent battle against hollow-eyed, grim-visaged star-' 
 ration and need in every walk and stage of life, from the 
 ragged soldier in the field to the infant at its mother's emaci- 
 ated breast and tottering old age. And yet this people, claim- 
 ing the highest civilization, erudition, and lofty human prin- 
 ciples, saw fit through its administrative representatives to 
 fall back on the barbarous practice long past of punishing 
 those who were unfortunate enough to fall into their hands 
 as prisoners of war for revenge because of alleged cruelty 
 to their own men in Confederate prisons. Suppose that un- 
 necessary harshness had been inflicted upon Federal prisoners 
 by subordinates, would that fact have justified such measures 
 of "retaliation" as were resorted to by the Washington ad- 
 ministration? And that, too, at the very time when Captain 
 Wirz was complaining to the government of the quality of the 
 "bread" furnished to the prisoners, and asking that the meal 
 be bolted before issuance, in order to increase its value in 
 bulk to each man. 
 
 His letter to that effect is dated June 6, 1864. And on the 
 following 10th the retaliatory order of Secretary of War 
 Stanton was put in force in Northern prisons — at least, it was 
 in Rock Island Prison. Whatever may have been lacking of 
 a full ration prior to that date was not a serious privation, for 
 we had become accustomed in the field to not feel the lack of 
 one, two, or even three meals in succession. But then the 
 conditions were different. 
 
 Whatever we say on this subject, we must be fair and adhere 
 strictly to the truth as we know it from personal experience 
 and not from hearsay. Prior to the 10th of June, 1864, those 
 who had friends within the Union lines w r ere allowed to re- 
 ceive boxes or packages- of edibles such as are not furnished 
 to troops by their governments — dainties of all kinds. But 
 after the 10th of June all boxes that arrived containing edibles 
 were opened and the contents sent to the hospitals, so they 
 said ; but such packages as contained clothing only were ad- 
 
6 
 
 ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 mitted. Up to that date any one who had money could buy 
 from the sutler for the post, a man named Dart. So far as I 
 know, he was a fair man. We could not go to the sutler's, 
 but he would make almost daily visits inside the prison with 
 a wagon loaded with such things as the prisoners wanted ; but 
 after the date above he did not come into the prison again 
 until one or two days before the following Christmas. But 
 of that later on. Thus we were cut off from receiving all 
 edibles from friends outside, deprived of the right to pur- 
 chase from the sutler or any other source, and our rations 
 reduced to fourteen ounces of bread and twelve ounces of 
 fresh beef per day and one quart of hominy to a man for ten 
 days, and just at the beginning of summer, when the river 
 from which we pumped our supply of water into two large 
 cisterns sank into the ground in the main avenue. The river 
 was already near its lowest stage and declining rapidly under 
 the broiling summer's sun, and the water was turning in 
 color from clear to a muddy green, and later on during the 
 hot days of July and August was unfit to drink. Ugh ! seems 
 as if its odor of river moss is still hanging around. 
 
 But work was well under way toward the sinking of an 
 artesian well ; and when the river was at its lowest and the 
 water had reached the lowest degree of nauseousness, good, 
 pure water was struck at a depth of twelve hundred feet, 
 more or less, and a pump installed. From that time on we 
 had good water, but not an oversupply. Two men were de- 
 tailed from daylight, or roll call in the morning, to pump until 
 noon, two others then taking their places until night. Owing 
 to the number of barracks and men (over 8,000) to be sup- 
 plied, only one bucket was allowed to each man coming to 
 the well. Each had his turn, and often during the hottest 
 part of the day there would be from each of the barracks a 
 line of buckets strung out in every direction leading to the 
 pump. No two men could stand this constant six hours' strain 
 at the pump. Therefore they were often relieved by those 
 coming for water, one on each side agreeing to pump their 
 own buckets full and then giving way to the next two, and 
 so on until the pumpers were rested. For this supply of water 
 due credit must be given. 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 7 
 
 But summer diseases, incident to the use of the almost 
 stagnant river water and the suffering caused by the sudden 
 reduction of the rations to a point merely sufficient to sus- 
 tain life, had already obtained a foothold among the men, 
 and the sick list ran into the thousands. The fresh beef was 
 generally as good as could be expected. But the quantity to 
 each man after cooking (boiling was the never-varying mode 
 of cooking) may easily be determined when it is considered 
 at twelve ounces "gross weight"' to a man. My own ration 
 (and it was the average) amounted to from four to six bites, 
 very rarely more, and depending on the toughness or tender- 
 ness of the meat. We soon learned that there was more solid 
 sustenance in a marrow bone (joint) than in a ration of 
 meat, and' it gave rise to quarrels for its possession until in 
 our barrack a rule was adopted (and I believe the rule be- 
 came general) that whenever the coveted "bone of contention" 
 fell to a "mess"' each member in his turn received it. Care- 
 fully denuded of all meat and gristle, if it happened to be "full 
 grown," the recipient would take his bone, chop it as fine as 
 possible, and "boil it down" in saucepans manufactured from 
 canteens or burnt-out stovepipe ; and then, if he had good 
 teeth, nothing would remain of that bone that strong teeth 
 could crush. 
 
 But we did not always lose the soup (beef water). The 
 fat was carefully skimmed off and the water, when not too 
 salty to drink, dipped out and set away to cool to drink 
 later, and every third day a portion of the hominy was added, 
 and we had "hominy soup." That was feast day. But we 
 dicl not have fresh beef continually; better if we had. After 
 a while our diet was changed. They gave us for a change 
 about the same amount gross weight of "mess beef." Some 
 of it was fair to middling, sometimes good ; but sometimes, 
 and often, green with. age and odorous to a degree; and our 
 ration of good white bread (it was good bread) was changed 
 to a square fourteen ounces of solid corn bread made of 
 yellow corn with a taste of lye from too much soda or salera- 
 tus in it so strong that it made it unfit to eat. I saw men 
 vainly endeavor to eat it. Always a great eater myself and 
 ravenous as my appetite was, my stomach often revolted 
 I* 
 
8 
 
 ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 against it, and it was only during the latter part of the 
 twenty-four hours between rations that I could bring myself 
 down to the task of putting it away without an eruption tak- 
 ing place. Then again we were given "slabside" bacon, half 
 a pound to a man (so they said) gross weight. Some of it 
 was good as slab sides go, but very often it was very inferior 
 and strong enough to "stand alone." 
 
 Months of this salt diet and lye corn bread, and then 
 scurvy became epidemic — hundreds of cases, and nothing 
 wherewith to combat the disease. Men walked around with 
 mouths so sore that they could not eat, and their teeth actually 
 dropping out with the attempt ; others with limbs green and 
 distorted. I remember one case particularly in Barrack 44. 
 We had doctors who did the best they could, and I believe 
 tried their best to render all aid, and I am not blaming them. 
 I do not believe there was indifference on the part of the 
 medicas at the post. I simply state the conditions as they 
 existed. At last the disease made such ravages that it came 
 to the knowledge of citizens of Rock Island City and aroused 
 their sympathies. This is hearsay [This is historical fact. 
 See United States war record reports on Rock Island Prison. 
 The cruel treatment of prisoners by the commandant, Colo- 
 nel Johnson, and their pitiable condition aroused the sympa- 
 thies of the citizens of Rock Island to such an extent that they 
 brought the matter before Mr. Lincoln, who ordered an in- 
 vestigation that resulted in a measure to relieve the situa- 
 tion of its horrors. — Ed.], and they set about inaugurating 
 measures of relief by subscription of such vegetables as could 
 be had at that season of the year. All honor to them! I do 
 know that each man afflicted with scurvy was given raw Irish 
 potatoes to eat as a curative, and was told that those potatoes 
 had been subscribed by citizens of Rock Island City; and 
 further, that with the coming of the potatoes to the sick the 
 scurvy began to lose its grip and was finally extinguished. 
 How long it prevailed, I cannot remember, as I was myself 
 under the weather (though not from scurvy) a goodly part 
 of the time, and took no note of time or events. Neither can 
 I remember that any but the sick were supplied with the po- 
 tatoes. 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 9 
 
 From the foregoing some may say that we were not so bad 
 off for rations after all. I will admit it might have been 
 worse, but will not admit that it should have been as bad 
 as it was. At first sight it has not such a bad face; but take 
 a lot of men with healthy appetites who are accustomed to 
 at least one square meal in a week, reveling in good health, 
 and confine them within restricted limits, cut off from all 
 outside associations, and limit them to a loaf of bread which 
 baked could be pressed into a pint cup by hand and not be 
 over level full (I saw that done in my barrack, No. 47) and 
 twelve ounces gross weight of beef or equal weight of mess 
 beef or eight ( ?) ounces gross weight of bacon, a quart of 
 dry hominy every ten days and for six months on a stretch 
 without a break, and then say that they should not feel that 
 most terrible of afflictions — hunger ! I know what it means, 
 and I saw others who felt it even more than myself, as well 
 as some who did not seem to feel it at all. One of these was 
 in my barrack — Joe Todd, of South Carolina. But Joe was -a 
 freak. 
 
 As to quarters, we were housed in barracks about eighteen 
 feet wide by about seventy to eighty feet long, with three 
 tier bunks on each side and at the ends and three tiers or * 
 three bunks in the kitchen at the back, or lower end, separated 
 from the main room by a partition of upright boards. Each 
 barrack had accommodations for about one hundred men. 
 These barracks would have been comfortable in the South. 
 Even there they were all that could be desired in the summer ; 
 but they were not comfortable during the winter, being built 
 of one-inch upright boards of green and unseasoned lumber 
 with three-inch strips over the cracks that shrank in the sum- 
 mer sun. leaving large openings for the cold winter winds 
 to enter. We had two coal stoves in the main room, and 
 with one exception, owing to a snow blockade or from some 
 other cause, had sufficient coal to keep warm by huddling 
 around the stoves ; but never could generate heat enough to 
 warm the room during the blizzards so common in that lati- 
 tude, although the stoves were kept at a red heat. 
 
 One may form an idea of the intense cold when it is stated 
 that at one time during the winter of 1864-65 the frost never 
 
to 
 
 ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 melted from the windows within nine feet of the stove for a 
 whole week, and from the last week of February up to the 
 10th of March, 1864, it was almost as cold, which to men 
 reared in the South was a hard experience, to say the least, 
 especially when we lacked sufficient clothing, which was the 
 lot of the majority. As for myself, I was captured in East 
 Tennessee on the 27th of January in my shirt sleeves, a 
 light cotton undershirt, with a captured knit woolen over- 
 shirt, and many were no better off and some even less warmly 
 fitted. Our barracks had good tar paper roofs, and we were 
 protected from the rain, sleet, and snow, if not from the 
 biting frosts. True, we were given clothing (coats to those 
 who had none, of ancient "army tunics, discarded pattern of 
 blue-black cloth, almost black, with light blue headings) and 
 one single gray blanket to each man. In order to obtain the 
 most possible comfort from the least possible material, I had 
 sewn together the edges of a dog tent, which by some fortu- 
 nate chance had come into my hands at Louisville, and had 
 gathered enough leaves into it to make an excuse for a mat- 
 tress, which, with my bunkmate's blanket and my own, en- 
 abled us to enjoy some comforts that others did not possess. 
 Altogether, while we could sleep at times only by bunking on 
 the floor around the stoves, we might have been worse off, 
 and in all things better off. 
 
 When Christmas day came nearer, we learned that for once 
 our old friend the sutler would be allowed to come in and 
 give us a treat for Christmas — i. 'e., sell us flour ; nothing else, 
 however. We were naturally anxious to get flour, not having 
 had any white bread for a long time, to say nothing of our 
 hunger. Christmas eve came, and with it came Dart with two 
 wagons loaded, and expecting to reap a rich harvest, having 
 laid in a large stock for the occasion. But he had not told us 
 beforehand that he had raised the price from $2.50 per quar- 
 ter barrel to $4, and great was his surprise when he found he 
 could not dispose of a single sack among the hundreds of 
 hungry men that crowded around his wagons. Argument was 
 useless. I heard one man tell him : "I have money and could 
 buy all I want, so have others; but there are hundreds of 
 others who cannot at that price, and I won't set the price. If 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 you'll let us have it at the old price ($2.50), we'll buy; but if 
 not, you can take it out. We are hungry, but we won't be 
 held up for any such price." 
 
 Dart communed with himself for a bit, then turned slowly 
 toward the lower gate, and drove out, followed by hundreds 
 of hungry eyes. But not one single man asked him to stop. 
 A principle was at stake. The men who could afford to buy 
 refused simply because hundreds of their comrades who could 
 have bought a fourth or an eighth at the old figure could not 
 buy at the new rate of $16 per barrel, when it was worth only 
 $8 in the market. I shall not repeat what Colonel Johnson 
 said about it, because I could not vouch for its truth, since 
 1 did not hear him. Yet we were hungry. Stray (?) dogs 
 were "requisitioned." Rats were also eagerly hunted, and in 
 our barrack all points. of egress from under our barrack were 
 carefully blocked, leaving only one exit beneath each window, 
 and then men would station themselves at the window with 
 a "gig;" and if a rat -stuck his head out, the gig would de- 
 scend like a flash of lightning, and — well, sometimes over- 
 eagerness caused the hunter to miss, and then no rat stew for 
 him. 
 
 I helped "hide" two dogs — one an old long-eared hound, 
 the other Dart's faithful and ever-watchful bulldog, whose 
 round head did duty afterwards as a football, and in that ca- 
 pacity traveled over a large part of the prison, finally by an 
 awkward kick being sent across the dead line, where none 
 dared venture. And that recalls the hardest part of the tale. 
 We read on a tablet erected by the Woman's Relief Corps 
 of the G. A. R. at Andersonville : "May 2, 1864, a poor one- 
 legged' prisoner who placed one hand on the dead line while 
 reaching for the crutches fallen from his feeble grasp was 
 mortally wounded, shot by a Rebel sentinel." Knowing 
 something about "dead lines" myself, I would ask those ladies 
 how it happened that this soldier's "crutches" (which means 
 both crutches) fell across the dead line? 
 
 I remember reading of that or a similar incident when 
 Wirz was on trial, with illustration, in Harpefs blasphemously 
 lying sheet, if I'm not mistaken, and it was charged up against 
 Wirz at his condemnation. Only then it was stated that "the 
 
I 2 
 
 ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 soldier had stumbled^ and fell on the dead line, and was shot 
 as he essayed to recover himself by the Rebel guard." Now 1 
 would suggest to the ladies who erected that tablet that, in all 
 fairness to that '"Rebel sentinel," they in the interests of 
 truth and unbiased history revise the phraseology of that in- 
 scription and give him (the "Rebel sentinel") due credit. Get 
 the yarn straight, and give the name of that unfortunate sol- 
 dier. I jemember, too, that the name of that unfortunate 
 could not be learned at the time that Wirz was on trial, al- 
 though it was stated that Wirz's counsel had demanded it, 
 and was turned down by the prosecution with the declaration 
 that the court would accept the allegation as having been 
 proved by ''competent and reliable witness" (?). 
 
 Some things are not easily forgotten. [ remember also that 
 while Wirz was in prison, and the newspapers were manu- 
 facturing a character to saddle him with and hunting up wit- 
 nesses to swear his life away at any and all costs, on the 
 last Sunday in June, accompanied by my mother, I called 
 upon some old-time neighbors whom I had not seen for a full 
 dozen years (and with whose sons and daughters I had at- 
 tended the same school during two sessions), and there met 
 their oldest son, who had been a lieutenant in a Pennsylvania 
 regiment, and who had passed seven months in Andersonville 
 and was supposed to know something about the occurrences 
 there. The papers were full of Wirz and his atrocities, and, 
 having read so much about him, I was glad to meet one who 
 had been under his charge. But so strong was my fear of the 
 revelation of a probable disagreeable truth, and having seen 
 nothing but the most radical Northern papers for seventeen 
 months, consequently only one side of a story of "horrors," 
 that I almost feared to broach the subject, lest the accusa- 
 tions heralded abroad to every corner and nook of the civilized 
 world should be confirmed by an eyewitness in whose entire 
 reliability I had every confidence. At last I broached the sub- 
 ject thus: "How long were you in Andersonville, Jim?" 
 "Seven months," he replied. "Well, now I wish you would 
 tell me the truth about that place. Was it really as bad as 
 the papers say it was?" "No, it wasn't. It was bad, of course. 
 We did not have the shelter we needed because we were too 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISOS. 
 
 [ 3 
 
 many, and we did not have food enough nor medicines for 
 our sick ; but I guess they didn't have enough themselves." 
 
 I then asked him if what was said about Captain Wirz 
 was true. His answer came instantly : "Not that I know of." 
 Just then a neighbor came in, and our conversation was inter- 
 rupted. But that was his last word, "Not that I know of." 
 and yet he had been a prisoner under Wirz seven months. 
 Some one may ask: "Who was this lieutenant?" I answer: 
 "Lieut. James Hastings, oldest brother of ex-Gov. Dan Has- 
 tings, of Pennsylvania." 
 
 Our ways separated there that day. I have never met him 
 since, and do not know whether he is still living or not. That 
 is one part of the tale, and gives the lie direct to Tablet No. i 
 at Andersonville. And while we are asked to allow those lies 
 to stand unrefuted in our midst at our very doors, the G. A. 
 R. goes into spasms on learning that it is proposed to 
 erect a monument to Wirz with a true history of the man 
 and his office inscribed thereon, that those who come after 
 and read may know the truth as it is revealed in the records. 
 But even if all that was charged were true, would that justify 
 the retaliatory measures adopted by the North? 
 
 No doubt there are thousands — aye! hundreds of thousands 
 — of old soldiers of the G. A. R. and throughout the North, 
 and in the South as well, who are totally ignorant of the 
 truth as to the real conditions existing at the military prisons, 
 both in the North and the South. On the one side there was 
 an utter inability to properly care for the prisoners. Will 
 any man endowed with a modicum of reasoning power or a 
 spark of the spirit of fairness stand up to-day and say that 
 the South could properly care for the 180,000 prisoners held 
 by her in 1864-65, when it is a world-known fact that she 
 could not care for her own men in the field and less prop- 
 erly for her sick? 
 
 On the other hand, it is a well-established fact that in the 
 North every facility existed for the proper care of prisoners, 
 both well and sick; and if those prisoners were subjected to 
 any undue hardships, it was simply because the broad spirit 
 of Christianity was lacking. This was proven by the re- 
 taliatory measures put in force in 1864. And we are treated 
 
'4 
 
 ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 to the spectacle of the executive and administrative power of 
 a- great and Christian people wreaking a base revenge on 
 prisoners in their hands because of the unavoidable ills suf- 
 fered by their own. for whose relief and well-being they 
 themselves zvould not raise a hand, and to whom they refused 
 every measure of relief which lay in their power to command. 
 
 It would not be fair to charge this lack of succor to the 
 people of the North. They did not know. All the measures 
 of relief proposed by the Confederate government were care- 
 fully hidden away from the public, and were not unearthed 
 until long after the principal actors in this bloody drama and 
 cold-blooded conspirers against humanity had passed from the 
 stage of life. But the blot remains, black and damning. 
 In the meantime, as a cloak to hide their own responsibility, 
 the condition of Federal prisoners in the South was held up 
 to the gaze of Northern people in the newspapers and period- 
 icals with pictures of horrors inconceivable, as illustrating the 
 "hendishness of Jeff Davis and his government." But not 
 one word about the measures proposed by Jeff Davis to the 
 Washington authorities to send relief to their men in the 
 Southern prisons and his guarantee that that relief should be 
 given by their own doctors and only to their own men for 
 whom it was intended. And it was also carefully hidden from 
 the Northern public that their own government had refused 
 absolutely to send a single doctor, bottle of medicine, pound 
 of provisions, or a single coat or shirt; nor did it let them 
 know that in August, 1864, Judge Ould proposed to de- 
 liver all the sick at Andersonville to the Washington gov- 
 ernment if they would but send transports to Savannah to 
 carry them North without an equivalent in exchange. The 
 offer was accepted. But in order to prevent these men from 
 reaching their homes (scattered throughout the North from 
 Maine to the Rocky Mountains) before the election held in 
 November, no transports were sent to Savannah until in 
 December; while in the meantime hundreds of these poor, 
 sick, unfortunate prisoners, hurried from Andersonville as 
 soon as possible after this agreement had been reached, died 
 during the long waiting for transportation. 
 
 What a picture to hold up to the gaze of the world — a 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 '5 
 
 government of civilized people letting its sick die by the hun- 
 dreds rather than have them brought home to tell their 
 friends that they had been released without pledge or con- 
 dition because their half-starved captors could not give them 
 the care they needed on account of their own poverty, and the 
 fact that their government in whose defense they had bared 
 their breasts to the storms of war and all its privations and 
 horrors literally refused to allow any relief to be sent them 
 in their deep distress ! Had they been sent for immediately 
 and the truth through them become known to the Northern 
 people, it would have put a powerful weapon into the hands 
 of the opponents of the administration and would have put 
 Mr. Lincoln's candidacy in jeopardy. "They must not be 
 brought North until after the election," was the secret order 
 of Stanton. No! let them die rather than the truth be known. 
 
 O, the black, damning shame of it ! And all the while 
 those unfortunates were dying by scores, waiting for the ships 
 that never came. No stone was left unturned by the admin- 
 istration's organs to impress upon the Northern public the 
 fact that the whole responsibility for the "horrible sufferings 
 of our poor men in those Rebel hell holes" rested solely with 
 the "fiendish Rebels." Thousands may ask: "Could such 
 things have been?" If you doubt, go to the records. There 
 is the record of those bare, cold, hard facts, and they speak 
 with an eloquence which no tongue or pen may surpass. 
 
 But what has this to do with the prisons in the North? 
 What happened in them was but the sequence of all this 
 vituperation and calumny directed against Jeff Davis and his 
 government. Rock Island alone shall be written of here. 
 The garrison at Rock Island when I was there consisted of 
 a part, or whole perhaps, of the 4th Regiment of the Reserve 
 Corps, Col. A. J. Johnson commanding the post, the 108th 
 Negro Regiment from Kentucky, and the 43d Iowa "Gray- 
 beards ;" and after the latter were sent to Memphis, near the 
 close of 1864, they were replaced by the I92d Illinois. The 
 officers and noncommissioned officers of the 4th Reserve 
 Corps acted as inside or' duty officers, and as a rule they 
 were decent in their treatment of us. I have no complaint to 
 lay against them. They were veterans. Of the ' Graybeards," 
 I** 
 
i6 ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 I have no complaint to make as far as I know personally, ex- 
 cept against two of their officers, Captain Hogendoble (dubbed 
 the "Hogdriver" by the boys for his meanness), sometimes the 
 provost marshal, and a lieutenant named Graham. These two 
 were almost inseparable, and when not on duty would always 
 be together, and were about as congenial a pair of brutes as 
 could be found. They hated a Rebel as much as Colonel 
 Johnson himself, abusing the prisoners upon any occasion 
 'and without provocation. Brutal tyrants both of them and 
 cowards, for no brave man will insult, abuse, and strike a 
 prisoner when he knows that it is death for the prisoners 
 to strike back. 
 
 Hogendoble and Graham did both. I myself felt the stings 
 of Hogendoble's tongue and the blow of his coward's fist 
 because he was accidentally hit by our ball during a game, 
 for which he would accept neither apology nor excuse ; but, 
 like the coward he was, applying to me every vile epithet that 
 would come to his base mind, while trying to strike me in 
 the face with his clinched fist and then threatening me with 
 his pistol because I would not stand up and meekly take his 
 blows. 
 
 His foul epithets, with his revolver thrust almost against 
 my face and a threat to blow my "d — d brains out" if I did 
 not stand up and take the blows aimed at my face, were more 
 than I could quietly submit to; and, notwithstanding I was 
 looking squarely into the muzzle of his pistol, which just then 
 seemed to have a bore as big as a Gatling gun, I turned my 
 head and caught the blow on my ear. This, coupled with the 
 expression "notion to blow your d — d head off," was more 
 than human nature could endure in silence; and, looking him 
 fairly in the eyes, I flung some of his own choice epithets 
 back at him : "Shoot, d — n you ! Shoot, you coward ! I 
 can't help myself. I apologized for the ball having struck 
 you unintentionally, and you will accept neither apology 
 nor excuse. Now shoot !" He stared at me a bit after I 
 had relieved myself, and then with another string of curses 
 ordered me to follow him, which I did. Not knowing his 
 intentions, and at that particular moment, with my blood boil- 
 ing, not much caring, he led the way outside to the guardhouse. 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 and ordered that I be ornamented with a ball and chain "for 
 a month." I was well satisfied to get off so cheaply. We 
 had a trick of unlocking fetters at night, though ostensibly 
 we were never without them. 
 
 It was but a short while after that the "Graybeards" were 
 sent to Memphis to participate in the drubbing given them 
 by Forrest. And news came to us that the "Hogdriver" had 
 received a Rebel's bullet in the hindquarter, which would for 
 some time oblige him to take his meals standing. 
 
 That was my own experience with Hogendoble ; but stories 
 were rife of his many mean acts toward other prisoners and 
 well authenticated. But I can mention only what I saw and 
 remember fully. With Graham I never came in contact; but 
 I saw one victim of his wrath with the marks on his face, and 
 obtained the particulars from his barrack mates as well, and 
 this was the way of it : Graham, accompanying the orderly 
 who called the roll one morning (I believe he was "officer 
 of the day" that day), found fault with one of the men in the 
 line and ordered him to "stand straight and dress the line." 
 The prisoner was quite unwell, barely able to be on his feet, 
 and inclined forward instead of standing erect. This was not 
 considered by Graham, who with an oath again ordered the 
 poor devil to straighten up ; and not being obeyed in a man- 
 ner to suit him. he seized the man by the collar, jerked him 
 out of the ranks, struck him with his fist, forced him to- the 
 floor,' and kicked him on the body and head, all the while 
 cursing him with anything that came to his foul mouth. 
 Graham was an inveterate gambler, and took loss with a 
 bad grace. On one occasion when he was playing with some 
 of the boys in one of the barracks he lost. Here let me say 
 that we had gamblers among us in prison as well as in the 
 field, and they generally had money. Some of the officers 
 would come in for a game of poker occasionally, and very 
 often were worsted. So in this case Graham and Hogendoble 
 came out losers. Graham had put up his last dollar ; and see- 
 ing that he had lost, he sprang to his feet, accusing the others 
 of being "cheats," raked in the stakes, put them in his pocket, 
 and stalked out. Although this is "hearsay," I had it from 
 some pf the players in the game. 
 
iS 
 
 ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 In contrast I will cite another case which happened in the 
 same barrack and with some, if not all, of the same players. 
 Lieut. Ben Wagner, of the 4th Reserves, was also a gambler. 
 "Big Ben," as we familiarly called him, who always had 
 a kind word and smile for every one, was playing one day, 
 and was "cleaned out," to use his own laughing expression, 
 as I heard him myself. He had staked his fine gold watch 
 and chain and a fine ring, and lost — rather he had lost "on 
 tick :" after losing his ready cash, he left his watch, chain, 
 and ring as security for the debt. We did not see "Big Ben" 
 again for some time except on duty. Then one day he came 
 in and redeemed the articles he had left "in soak." This is 
 merely offered as an offset to the other case. But Big Ben 
 Wagner was a man, and more, a humane man and gentleman, 
 and it would be a pleasure to meet him anywhere again. 
 
 There were others — Lieutenant Layton, who had charge of 
 our correspondence and kept our cash when any came in let- 
 ters, giving us a receipt for it, which was the' equivalent of 
 cash with the sutler for any kind of goods except food after 
 June 10, 1864. Layton was always a gentleman in his deal- 
 ings with us within the range of my knowledge and ex- 
 perience. Captain Lawrence was the commissary, and was 
 always gentlemanly in his dealings with us. Captain Robin- 
 son, who replaced Hogendoble as provost marshal, was a 
 gentlerrlan and most considerate, one of the kind one is glad 
 to meet in after years. Of Lieutenant Colonel Carraher I 
 have not a word to say in condemnation. Some may, and no 
 doubt did ; but from what I myself heard I think he was un- 
 justly censured; and if at times he appeared to act with undue 
 severity (and I never knew of Tris having done so), it must 
 be borne in mind that he was himself under the orders of a 
 man who showed us no consideration whatever, as is indi- 
 cated by his reply to critics and accusers dated November 
 23, 1864. But of that later. 
 
 On one occasion, when some of the boys were complaining 
 to Colonel Carraher of the hardships imposed upon us by the 
 retaliatory measures of the government and the injustice of 
 putting us on half-starvation rations, I was listening and 
 heard all that was said, and I heard his answer, which marked 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 19 
 
 him as being either a man of humane impulses or a con- 
 summate hypocrite. How well I remember ! "Yes, boys, I 
 know it's hard; and if I could help it, I would; but I'm only 
 second in command, and I must obey orders as well as you. 
 I can't change it." And a subsequent action of his only con- 
 firmed the good opinion then formed of him. But of that later 
 also. 
 
 In sharp contrast to the foregoing was the conduct of "Cap- 
 tain Bucher," of the 108th. He was about as mean as men 
 are made. I had a little encounter (in words) with him 
 myself on a certain occasion, from which he did not emerge 
 with flying colors. However, his meanness did not manifest 
 itself in the use of foul language. That, at least, was to his 
 credit in so far as I knew. 
 
 Abuse of all military custom and authority was shown by 
 requiring prisoners at Rock Island to work outside of the 
 prison, felling trees, digging up stumps, and clearing out the 
 underbrush without pay or other remuneration than one-eighth 
 of a plug of navy tobacco, sold at eighty cents a plug by the 
 sutler, and at first nothing -whatever was paid. Details were 
 taken from the different barracks of ten men from each, be- 
 ginning with No. 1, the men alternating as for guard and 
 picket duty in service. This had been going on before I ar- 
 rived in the prison. In fact, I learned that it began almost 
 with the arrival of the first lot of prisoners. I protested 
 against this detailing of prisoners of war to do work for 
 which they received no pay. 
 
 In March, 1864, one raw, cold morning, I and nine 
 others from my barrack were detailed for outside work. 
 I went with the detail as far as the guardhouse outside, 
 where we were halted and axes, picks, and spades given 
 us, and then we were ordered to move off around the 
 corner of the prison wall. The others moved off, but 
 I stood fast. The sergeant of the guard asked me rather 
 brusquely: "Well, why ain't you moving?" I told him twas 
 because I did not intend to. "And why not?" "Well, simply 
 for this reason : we are prisoners of war, and you have no 
 right to take us outside of the prison to do government work 
 without pay." "So that's it, is it? Well, we'll call the lieu- 
 
zo 
 
 ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 tenant and see what he says." The lieutenant came and the 
 situation was explained, and there is where I first became ac- 
 quainted with "Big Ben." He also wanted to know why. I 
 repeated to him my reasons for refusing to work outside, and 
 ended the argument with : "We are prisoners of war, and 
 not convicts." He grew red in the face, and then after a mo- 
 ment's hesitation said, "Well, I'll have to report this to Colo- 
 nel Johnson ;" and after asking my name and barrack told 
 the sergeant to turn me back inside. I returned to my bar- 
 rack, and the orderly, "Uncle" Jim Ford, of Owenton, Ky., 
 began catechising me, and I told him the story of my re- 
 bellion. His only comment was : "Well, of course you're 
 right ; we all know it and feel the same way ; but what can 
 we do?" I advanced the point that if we all stood together 
 and refused they would not dare do it: but that if we 
 didn't assert our rights they would make us do the labor for 
 nothing and charge the government for full wages and put 
 the money in their pockets. And to this day I have always 
 believed that was done. 
 
 During that summer a lot of prisoners from Price's army 
 were brought in, between seven hundred and eight hundred, 
 among them some officers who were shortly after sent East, 
 with the exception of two or three who disguised (?) them- 
 selves as privates in order to remain with some of their 
 friends and companions in arms, one colonel whose name 
 1 cannot recall, and a Captain Roberts. They were made 
 acquainted with the "work feature" in vogue. The colonel 
 asked Colonel Johnson to pay him a visit. Soon Colonel 
 Johnson came; and though I was not near enough to hear 
 all that was said, I heard enough to understand. "Colonel, 
 this must be stopped. I shall communicate what I have 
 learned to my government." I learned from others that he 
 further told Colonel Johnson that "if he could find volunteers 
 to work at any wages he chose to pay them or no wages at 
 all, well and good; but to force men to go outside of the 
 prison to work for nothing or next to nothing [holding up a 
 square of plug some one had given him for the occasion], 
 this five cents' worth of tobacco — sir, I tell you it must stop." 
 Colonel Johnson's back was turned to me, and I could not see 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 his face; but others told me he turned red in the face, and 
 finally agreed to adopt the Confederate's plan and call for 
 volunteers. This was done and wages paid (?). One ten- 
 cent loaf of bread for a day's work found all the workers 
 needed, besides hundreds more who would have been glad 
 of the chance. 
 
 This went on until the spring of 1865. When the Con- 
 federacy was in the throes of death, the detailing again began. 
 This time a whole barrack would be detailed at a time, leav- 
 ing only the cooks, the orderly, and those too sick to walk. 
 And it was on one of these occasions that Captain Bucher 
 showed his brutal character, a fair exterior (he was a hand- 
 some fellow) hiding the brute. Bucher was superintending 
 the getting out of a detail from Barrack 61 directly in the 
 rear of 47; and after all but one were out in ranks, the 
 doughty Captain saw one man remaining in the barrack sitting 
 by the stove (the weather still being cool) with a blanket 
 over his shoulders. He called out sharply : "Here, you in 
 there, come out here and fall in !*' The man, who had been 
 under the doctor's care for some time and was just recovering 
 from a siege of fever and still weak, arose slowly and, com- 
 ing to the door, told the captain that he was unwell, just re- 
 covering from a "spell- of sickness," and "not able to work." 
 "Come out here, I tell you, or I'll pull you out!" The man 
 came down the steps slowly, still protesting that he was un- 
 able to work. And I and all those who saw him knew that 
 he was unfit. His own barrack mates spoke up for his ex- 
 emption. This only seemed to aggravate the case. The Cap- 
 tain in a rage seized the poor fellow by the shoulder, whirled 
 him around, pushed him forward, at the same time giving 
 him a kick behind which, had it not been for falling against 
 the man in front of him, would have thrown him forward on 
 the ground. 
 
 This was more than I could quietly endure, and I sang out : 
 "You d — d brute !" I knew the risk, but could not help it. 
 There were perhaps a dozen of us standing at the kitchen door 
 of 47, and we all had the same feelings— a desire, to strangle 
 the beast. He glared at us for a moment, and then gave the 
 
22 
 
 ROCK ISLAND. PRISON. 
 
 order to "Forward ! and step lively." That was the last time 
 that I can remember having seen Bucher. 
 
 We cannot accuse any officer there of ever having "shot a 
 prisoner," though there is little doubt that such brutes as 
 Hogendoble, Graham, and Bucher need not have been begged 
 to do so. That kind of work was delegated to the guards, 
 and a few instances herein given will demonstrate their ability 
 to do so. There were many men among our guards, both 
 officers and privates, who were both honorable and humane — 
 men who no doubt were shamed by the actions of their fel- 
 lows, men who could not bring themselves to sanction any 
 act of brutality practiced upon us. 
 
 My own experience is hardly worth mentioning. For rebel- 
 ling against work I was triced up by the wrists to a tree on 
 the main avenue with a clothesline, with my toes only resting 
 on the ground, for four short hours of sixty long minutes 
 each, under a gray, sunless sky, with a sharp March wind blow- 
 ing across the frozen river and cutting through my scant 
 clothing till my very marrow seemed frozen. But I must 
 say for the old German corporal who triced me up that he 
 did it as humanely as his orders permitted. He made me pull 
 down the sleeves of my jacket (one given me by a barrack 
 mate, William H. Gregory, of South Carolina) and tied the 
 line over them in a manner to not too much bruise my wrists. 
 T always think kindly of the old man for his kindness of ac- 
 tion as well as his words : "I don'd like to do dis, put I haf 
 my orters. Pull town your jacket shleeves, so I kin tie 
 roundt dem, und den idt von'd pe so padt. I don'd vant to 
 hurd you more as I ken helb id." He was a Dutchman, but 
 he was far more humane than many of my own countrymen. 
 
 After four hours of torture, the old man came and, in his 
 own vernacular, "tied me loose." My arms refused to drop, 
 and he was obliged to reach up to unfasten the line from 
 my wrists. The least attempt to bring my stiffened arms 
 down was excruciating. My hands, arms, and body were 
 blue and purple in spots and my finger tips white with the 
 cold. The old man shook his head and ejaculated : "Dat vas 
 too badt. Now go mid your parrack and git you varmedt oop, 
 und got your arms roobedt down. Too badt." Thus with 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 n 
 
 my hands up in the air I walked to my barrack, where Uncle 
 Jim Ford, Tom Herndon, Abbey, and others got my jacket 
 off, and by vigorous rubbing and chafing of joints and muscles 
 got my arms down; but warmth did not come. A chill seized 
 me. and they got me into my bunk and piled about a dozen 
 blankets on top of me. I was not yet warm when my old 
 corporal came for me, took me out to the guardhouse, and 
 invested me with a 32-pound ball and six feet of chain. I 
 wore it a month in daytime. But I was never detailed again 
 until May, 1865. 
 
 Wanton shooting of prisoners and the unspeakable treachery 
 of guards form about as black a chapter of crime as any ever 
 recorded, and it is one phase of our prison life not found in 
 the government records of Rock Island. Much ado was made 
 about Captain Wirz having shot a prisoner with his own pis- 
 tol ; and for that crime and others falsely imputed to him, as 
 was afterwards shown, he was hung and his name and mem- 
 ory blackened by the very ones who had winked at the murder 
 of prisoners in their own prisons. 
 
 It is not conceivable that the authorities at Washing- 
 ton did not know what was being done at the different 
 prisons of the North. If Wirz was truly guilty, hav- 
 ing himself shot a prisoner with or without cause, was he 
 any more guilty of murder than was Col. A. J. Johnson, who 
 never punished a single one of his men for having wantonly 
 and without the least cause shot prisoners to death in broad 
 daylight or in the night? I was a witness to four cases of the 
 kind — three in daylight and one in the night — witness to the 
 shooting, and not simply viewing the victims, after death. 
 
 I defy any one to produce any authentic record of punish- 
 ment meted out to any guard at Rock Island for having shot 
 a prisoner or for having shot into the barracks during the 
 night after "taps," at any and all hours, without the least 
 cause or provocation, but with the sole intention to kill or 
 maim. If any such record can be shown, I will make all due 
 and honorable reparation within my power. And in what 
 follows will be found evidence that no punishment was ever 
 awarded for the crimes committed. 
 
 There was a "dead line" around the prison on the inside. 
 
2 4 
 
 ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 On the north and south sides parallel with the river a ditch 
 about three feet wide by about one and a half deep was dug, 
 and about forty feet from the fence and over this were built 
 the "sinks" at the end of each cross street. This constituted 
 the dead line, and every man knew that to cross that ditch 
 day or night without permission was to invite a bullet, and 
 I never knew of any one's attempting to force it. except as 
 will appear hereafter. At the upper and lower ends of the in- 
 closure the dead line was a' mere drain not more than a foot 
 wide and six inches deep, a board forming the bottom and 
 one ripped in two forming the sides and not more than twenty- 
 five feet from the fence. 
 
 In what I here relate I can give no dates, and in only five 
 cases can T give the number of the barrack to which the 
 parties belonged, and with only four individuals can I give the 
 names of the parties shot. Nor can I give the cases in posi- 
 tive sequence, though each and every one is painted in un- 
 dying colors on my memory. The first was the case of "Tom" 
 Callahan, well known and popular, a personal friend of 
 "Uncle" Jim Ford and "Tom" Herndon. of my barrack. 
 Tom had money — gold. He wanted to be free, and, like many 
 others, found it a key to unlock the bars if not the gates of 
 his prison. He struck up a bargain with the sentry, a black 
 negro of the 108th, whose beat was from the upper corner on 
 the river side to about the lower end of Barrack No. 27. A 
 $20 gold piece was the price, which was passed in some way 
 to the negro, who was to go on guard again at 10 p.m., and 
 then Tom was to crawl to where one of the upright boards 
 of the fence lacked about six inches of reaching the ground. 
 This made it an easy start, and by very little work enough 
 of the loose soil could be scraped away to enable a man to 
 crawl through. At the appointed hour Callahan crawled to the 
 spot indicated, opposite Barrack 13, and was industriously dig- 
 ging his way out (who can say with what hopes and visions?) 
 when steps were heard overhead. The sentry was coming 
 from the corner with even tread, slowly, steadily, without haste. 
 Callahan hears, but heeds not, for his $20 gold piece is in the 
 negro's pocket. Industriously he digs ; each scoop of earth 
 removed brings him that much nearer liberty. One or two 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 2 5 
 
 friends in 13 who were in the secret were watching at the 
 windows. The night was dark, but the sentry could be out- 
 lined plainly against the sky. He halts in his tramp directly 
 above the unsuspecting man fifteen feet below. Soon the 
 hole will be wide enough and' deep enough, and then? There 
 is a silent movement by the treacherous black above; then the 
 gun comes from his shoulder, the muzzle is dropped over the 
 guard rail, pointing straight down between the shoulders of 
 the liberty-loving digger below. A flash and a report, awak- 
 ening the sleeping tenants of the barracks with a start, and 
 Callahan is free. 
 
 Uncle Jim was in the secret, awake and on the qui vive, 
 and as I raised up on my bunk I heard him say : "Poor Tom ! 
 he's gone." Then I firsi: learned who "Tom" was. After 
 roll call in the morning, I went with him and others around 
 to 13, and there we saw Callahan still lying on his face. 
 Shortly after a lieutenant with men and a light wagon came 
 in, and they took up the corpse, put it (not roughly) into the 
 wagon, and drove out — Rock Island's first murder, but not the 
 last. 
 
 A short time after this murder we were awakened just at 
 daybreak by a shot at the upper end of the prison. Again 
 I went as soon as I could get away. This time it was at 
 Barrack No. 2. One of the men, name unknown, had opened 
 the door, stepped to the second step as near as we could 
 figure from his height, had closed the door behind him, 
 faced around to descend to the ground just in time to catch 
 the bullet of the murderous negro near the upper gate full 
 in the breast. He fell without a groan to the ground, from 
 which his comrades picked him up and carried him inside 
 and laid him on the floor. While I was there the officer of 
 the guard came and demanded to know the cause of the shot, 
 addressing the sentry. "I shot a man there." "What did you 
 shoot- him for?" "'Case he was across de dead line." The 
 officer turned and asked where the man was who was shot, 
 and was shown the man lying on the floor. "Well, I'll send in 
 the wagon for him," he said, and turned to go, when one of 
 the men called to him, "Lieutenant, please look at this," point- 
 ing to the bullet hole in the door about three inches above the 
 
2 6 
 
 ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 knob and the mark of the bullet on the footboard of the 
 middle bunk next to the door where it had been struc'.< 
 diagonally, the bullet glancing off. (It was only the board 
 that saved the feet of one of the men sleeping on the bunk.) 
 He says : "He was across the dead , line, which is six feet 
 from the foot of the four steps to the ground, and the bullet 
 hole is above the knob of the door. If he had been only on 
 the ground at the foot of the steps, the bullet that made that 
 hole would have passed' above his head by two feet. And he 
 is shot through the breast." 
 
 The lieutenant looked around at us dumb, and then turned 
 without a word and walked away — Murder No. 2. We waited 
 for a while to see whether the sentry would be relieved ; he 
 was not until the regular relief went on guard. We heard 
 that he had been put under arrest pending an investigation. 
 Be that as it may, some of those same men in No. 2 reported, 
 and the report was not denied, that twelve days later "that 
 same negro came on the parapet with the relief guard with 
 the chevrons of a corporal on his arms." I do not vouch 
 for this. But that was the report. 
 
 Again, two young men of Barrack 55, on my row and next 
 to the dead line, concluded a bargain with the two guards 
 whose beats met opposite 55 to allow them to climb the fence. 
 Again the inducement was a "double eagle." They con- 
 structed a short ladder in the barrack, and at the given hour 
 of a dark night slipped across the dead line in the deep 
 shadow, set their ladder against the fence, and began to 
 climb. It lacked at least four feet of reaching the top, but 
 with the promised help of the sentries they expected to get 
 over. The two sentries were above and ready. When the 
 first had about reached the top, two guns were pushed down, 
 two flashes, two reports in quick succession, and the topmost 
 man tumbled from the ladder, bored through from the shoul- 
 der down. The other at the bottom had just set his foot on 
 the lower rung of the ladder and caught the bullet in the 
 inner thigh, severing the main artery. He rushed back into 
 the barrack, the blood spouting at every leap. They set him 
 on a seat, and within ten minutes he too was free — free as the 
 comrade who lay by the wall. Murders Nos. 3 and 4, and 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 2 7 
 
 by whom? Negroes? No! By white men, by men of their 
 own race and blood, had Graham and Stephens been lured 
 to their death. Can Andersonville, Salisbury, Libby, or any 
 other Southern prison furnish a like record of base treachery? 
 With all the crimes imputed to them, they have never yet 
 been accused of such baseness. 
 
 This ended any attempts at bribery or scaling or burrowing 
 out under the walls, except by tunnels from under the bar- 
 racks next to the fence. The lamps attached to the fence, 
 throwing their light inward, were reenforced by like lamps 
 set up on boards driven into the ground at the dead line, 
 midway of the lamps on the wall, throwing their light against 
 the wall, thus lighting the dark spaces between the wall lamps. 
 This frustrated any attempt to approach the wall even during 
 the darkest night. One thing which must be plainly under- 
 stood is that prisoners were allowed free access to the sinks 
 day and night. One night Tom Jarrett, of 47, was obliged to 
 go to the sink about eleven o'clock. It was a dark night. 
 Promiscuous shooting had been indulged in during the nights 
 following the attempt of Graham and Stephens to escape, Bar- 
 rack 55 being a special target. Men feared to step outside of 
 their quarters after dark, and with just cause. Jarrett was a 
 simple-minded, good-natured fellow, liked by every one, and 
 was afiflicted with that peculiar disease of the sight known as 
 "moon blindness," and at night he was as "blind as a bat." 
 But he knew the way to the sink by feeling from one barrack 
 to the other. He had just reached No. 55, and was feeling his 
 way along the wall when the sentry on the parapet (a white 
 man, too) called out : "Halt !" We had been more or less ap- 
 prehensive, and were expecting trouble. We heard the chal- 
 lenge and then Tom's answer: "Don't shoot! I'm blind." 
 Hardly had the words left his mouth when we heard a shot, 
 followed by a cry of pain and then lamentations, and we heard 
 him working his way slowly back. When Uncle Jim and Sep 
 Abbey went out and brought the poor fellow in, he was in a 
 most lamentable condition. When the sentry fired on him, 
 Tom's hand was feeling the way against the face of No. 55, 
 and the bullet, thanks to the darkness and bad aim, struck his 
 arm. shattering the elbow. The surgeons saved his forearm 
 
28 
 
 ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 and hand, but cut out the whole elbow joint. That was No. 5, 
 '"attempt to murder." 
 
 One night we heard a shot on the south side. Next morning 
 I went over to No. 28 and saw a man who had been shot in 
 the arm while sleeping on his bunk, the top one on the north 
 side against the kitchen partition. He was lying on' his back 
 with his right arm across his breast. The bullet was fired 
 diagonally, passing through the end of the barrack and. 
 kitchen partition, entering his arm near or at the elbow, pass- 
 ing out between the bones of his wrist, and fortunately not 
 breaking a bone. Four inches lower would have pierced his 
 breast. No. 6, "attempt to murder." 
 
 During the summer of 1864 a large ditch for sanitary pur- 
 poses was dug through the middle of the central street, and a 
 large number of men were employed in it. The weather was 
 fearfully hot and dry. A single pump furnished the only 
 drinking water for the prison at that time, having over eight- 
 thousand inmates. Only one bucket was allowed to each man 
 coming to the pump, where two men were detailed to pump 
 from roll call in the morning until twelve o'clock and two 
 others from twelve till six or later. During the hottest parts 
 of the day there would be as many as a hundred buckets in 
 line on each side of the pump, each man waiting his turn to 
 fill his bucket, and often relieving the almost exhausted 
 pumpers by pumping their own buckets full. Naturally with 
 so many buckets considerable time must elapse before the 
 turn of the man at the end of the line would come. It was 
 virtually an endless chain of empty buckets. The workers 
 in the ditch had their special water carrier ; but with 
 the long string of buckets ahead of him the carrier would be 
 unusually delayed, and the men in the bottom of an eight- 
 foot ditch, with the heat of the sun overhead and their 
 exertions below with pick, shovel, and barrow, felt that it was 
 a long time between drinks. One day especially they had be- 
 come unusually thirsty, caused by an unusual delay in getting 
 water to them by their carrier ; and as soon as he appeared 
 at the head of the ditch and called out "Water!" they all, 
 twenty or more, rushed up the bank at the head of the ditch 
 on the avenue and crowded around the carrier with his bucket- 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 29 
 
 ful of clear, cool water brought up from a thousand feet 
 below the surface. 
 
 Right here an explanation is in order. Sometime previous 
 a report became current that an attempt was to be made by 
 the prisoners to make a break for liberty. Any such attempt 
 must have resulted in a useless expenditure of blood and have 
 proved abortive. But that is quite another story and has 
 no place here. In consequence of those rumors, the guards 
 had been enjoined to renewed vigilance and doubled on the 
 parapets. Orders were issued in the prison prohibiting the 
 assembling of prisoners on the avenue and streets in "groups" 
 of more than "two." Sentries were instructed to disperse all 
 "groups" thus assembled wherever or whenever it might oc- 
 cur by order to "disperse," and if not obeyed to fire on them 
 without further warning. Thus matters stood on the day in 
 question, and it was not the first time that day nor for days 
 previous that the workmen to the number of two and more 
 at a time came up out of the ditch to get a drink. They were 
 at all times in full view of the sentries, and there was not a 
 single apparent" excuse for mistaking them. 
 
 The sentry at 55 saw them rush in a body out of the ditch 
 and surround the carrier; but, knowing full well their object, 
 did not feel that any order obliged him to call on them to 
 disperse. It was the same with the sentry at the opposite end 
 of the street, at 42 and 56; but he was built of different "dust." 
 When the workmen swarmed around the carrier, he promptly 
 called out: "Disperse that crowd!" No attention was paid 
 to the order by the thirtsy men. I was standing quite near 
 No. 43 on the avenue and saw that the sentry intended to 
 shoot, and called to the workmen : "Scatter, boys ! that fellow 
 is going to shoot." Whether they heard or not, I cannot tell ; 
 bur others- who were passing sought cover. Again the sentry 
 called on them to disperse. One of the men called to the 
 sentry : "We are workmen." There was no need to tell him 
 that; he knew it as well as they, but the knowledge did not 
 stay his hand. He raised his gun and pulled the trigger. 
 Three went down. One, the first, shot through the liver, died 
 in two hours ; the second, in front of him. was bored through 
 the intestines from behind, the ball making its exit near the 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 navel ; and the third was "caught near the waistband from the 
 rear, the bullet perforating the body, cutting through the inner 
 wall of his right pocket and dropping into that receptacle. 
 Those two were taken to the hospital. One died a few days 
 later and the third was still living, but of his ultimate fate 
 I am ignorant. In order to follow events in the order of 
 their occurrence, turn to page 32, since that event occurred 
 during the summer of 1864, before the "Calf Pen" was laid off. 
 
 During the winter following at one time we ran short of 
 coal. Any one acquainted with the winter temperature in 
 that latitude (41-40) will not need to ask what that meant to 
 men illy clad, insecurely housed, and with vitality reduced by 
 meager fare, and in ill health as many were. We were re- 
 duced to all sorts of makeshifts to eke out our scanty supply 
 of fuel — picking up the limbs of trees to burn (of which a few 
 remained on the ground from trimming), and huddling around 
 the cooking boiler in the kitchen, for which the coal was re- 
 served, while the stoves in the living rooms were fed simply 
 enough to keep them "alive" without in any degree warming 
 the room. Fortunately the season was not yet advanced to 
 midwinter frostiness, but there were several inches of snow- 
 on the ground. 
 
 In the summer of 1864 the "authorities" had opened a re- 
 cruiting office, holding out the bribe of "full rations" to com- 
 plaining stomachs, ostensibly on the grounds that there were 
 many men among us who realized that they were engaged in 
 a wrong cause and would gladly accept service with the loyal 
 States under a guarantee that they should not be anywhere 
 engaged against their former comrades, but be sent to the 
 frontier to war against the Indians, and thus prove their loy- 
 alty (?) to the old flag. 
 
 But this phase will be treated elsewhere. It is not in- 
 tended in this paper to enter into an argument upon the cul- 
 pability of either the briber or the bribed. 
 
 A line fence had been set up between Barracks 44 and 46, 
 58 and 60, and 72 and 74 from the lower fence to the ditch 
 in Center Street, thence along the ditch in front of Barracks 
 46, 48, 50, 52 f . 54, and 56, cutting off eighteen barracks for the 
 receiving quarters of the new recruits. This was immediately 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 3 l 
 
 dubbed the "Calf Pen" and the main remaining part of the 
 prison the "Bull Pen." As soon as recruits were acquired they 
 were transferred to the "Calf Pen" and fed on full rations, 
 "to fatten up for the slaughter." Some had gone simply 
 because, as they put it, "I'm hungry all the time, and I can't 
 stand this any longer ; but I'll desert at the first chance." But 
 I saw one poor devil of a dried-up specimen whose stomach 
 would not be bribed by the promise of full rations. He came 
 by our door one day, gaunt arid hollow-eyed. On the ash pile 
 in front of our door, in the dirty snow, lay the finely chopped 
 pieces of marrow joint some one had thrown out ; and stoop- 
 ing down, he picked up a handful of the pithy pieces and 
 munched them as he went on his way slowly. The loaves of 
 good white bread and the pounds of meat given out on the 
 other side of the fence beyond the avenue could not tempt 
 him to bring a blush to the cheeks of those who were awak- 
 ing his coming in far-away Georgia. And God knows that 
 if there was but one hungry man inside that prison he was 
 that one. But he was not the only one. 
 
 Some of the men who went into the "Calf Pen" gave evi- 
 dence of a desire to help some comrade who would remain 
 true to his cause, and communications were soon established 
 and chunks of meat and bread would find their way over the 
 fence without wings, though flying. Between 44 and 58 a 
 bit of punk sap on the edge of a board permitted an enlarge- 
 ment of the crack between the boards, so that one could see 
 with one eye the person on the other side with whom he was 
 conversing. But this state of affairs and friendly intercourse, 
 with the now and then chunks of bread and beef, could not 
 continue. Headquarters soon dropped on to it, and a guard 
 was put on the beat between the fence and the ditch and the 
 rear sides of 44, 58, and 72, and a straight line from corner 
 to corner across the street was constituted the "dead line," 
 beyond which we were forbidden to pass. 
 
 Of the sentries who patrolled this beat (a space of less than 
 nine feet from the barrack to the fence), I can remember 
 but one distinctly. I do remember that some were good fel- 
 lows, considerate, confining themselves to a strict discharge of 
 their duty without any display of undue harshness. But the 
 
3 2 
 
 ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 one I do remember left the impress of his brutal features 
 stamped ineffaceably on my memory-— a squat-built negro as 
 black as any ever painted by nature's brush, low forehead, 
 deep-set eyes, and the elongated jaw of the gorilla, a face 
 denoting at once the low grade of mentality characteristic of 
 the lowest type of the negro — a mere brute. 
 
 On a day during our coal famine, above mentioned, a man 
 came out of Barrack No. 30. f was on the avenue between 
 43 and 44. nearer 43, and saw this man walk through the snow 
 to a tree standing near the edge of the ditch, from which two 
 limbs the thickness of a man's wrist had been sawed off and 
 were lying near is roots. Reaching the tree, he stooped and, 
 taking the sawed-off ends one in each hand, started toward 
 the kitchen door of No. 30; and when about five paces of the 
 steps, this same negro, arriving at the end of his beat at 
 the ditch, without warrant, authority, or cause, and in the 
 most brutal manner possible, ordered the man to drop those 
 limbs. I can hear him yet: "You d — d Rebel, drop dem 
 lim's." Clearly within his known rights, the man paid not 
 the least attention, and the nigger repeated : "Drop dem lim's, 
 I say !" The man kept on, not heeding the order. When 
 within a couple of paces of the steps, the nigger raised his 
 rifle, took deliberate aim, and pulled the trigger. Shot through 
 the spine, the poor fellow fell forward on his face in the snow 
 motionless. And in another home in the Southland some one 
 jvas waiting, waiting for the husband that never came, chil- 
 dren waiting for the loving father who would never again 
 give them the good night kiss. (Mark to.) 
 
 As before stated, during the summer of 1864 we received 
 a large addition to our numbers from the Trans-Mississippi 
 Department as well as from the Army of the Tennessee. 
 Price's men had been assigned to quarters almost entirely 
 below the ditch, from 44 to 74. These and the accessions from 
 the Arm)- of the Tennessee swelled our numbers to over 
 8,000. The highest average was S.607 (for the month of 
 June), and the lowest for five months 8. 181 (October). And 
 as before stated, the inmates had the unrestricted privilege of 
 use of the "sinks" night or day. which was an absolute neces- 
 sity in view of the numerous cases of "summer complaint" 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 33 
 
 resulting from the use of the bad river water and the nature 
 of our diet. At the time of the following occurrence I had 
 myself been sick for some time, and one starlit night when 
 the conditions of my mind and body would allow me no rest 
 I went strolling. I knew I was taking a big risk, but in my 
 then frame of mind I did not much care what happened. My 
 supper had been of the very lightest, so that at the hour of mid- 
 night, when I found myself roaming the streets without any 
 definite purpose, my mind and stomach were both in a chaotic 
 state of unrest. In my wanderings I had crossed the street 
 from the neighborhood of 59 and 61 toward 47, then turned 
 my steps toward the avenue. On the opposite side of the 
 avenue I saw a man coming toward me in the rear of Bar- 
 racks 44 to 56 row. He was in his underclothes only, and 
 in the starlight I could see him plainly. Behind him the lamp 
 on the wall threw its light on his white garments, making 
 him a shining mark. When near the avenue in the rear of 
 43, I stopped and stood looking at him as he came toward me. 
 He was between Barracks 50 and 46, and evidently near his 
 journey's end, and so it proved. A flash from the parapet 
 behind him, a loud report in the still night, a Whistling Millie, 
 a dull thud, and he dropped forward and* lay still and quiet 
 with a murderer's bullet in his back. (Mark 11.) The sentry 
 must have seen this man go to the sink and leave it. He did 
 not halt him on the way the ( re ; but allowed him to leave it, 
 and' then deliberately shot him through the back. Another 
 home in the Southland where are heard the sobs of the widow 
 and the wail of the orphan. 
 
 The winter of 1864-65 passed and spring came with her 
 smiles, but it brought small comfort to us except in the 
 thought that our term of imprisonment would soon end. We 
 would have papers passed to us now and then which would 
 tell of some great Union success. Richmond had at last fall- 
 en, Lee and Johnston had surrendered, Lincoln had been as- 
 sassinated, and the unfortunate Wirz was in a dungeon. All 
 these came in rapid succession. Then indeed were the dark- 
 days come. Worse than all else, the knowledge that we 
 were crushed to the earth at last, all power of resistance gone, 
 and uncertain of our own ultimate fate was our bitterest por- 
 
34 
 
 ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 tion. Above all did we dread the effect of Lincoln's assassi- 
 nation. A regiment of "one hundred day" men had been sent 
 to guard us. It was the ig2d Illinois, if I remember right, 
 and they were worse than the niggers. Worse, because they 
 were white men and boys, officered by veterans whose terms 
 had expired. Of the officers I can say nothing, never having 
 come in contact with any that I can remember. But of the 
 men who mounted guard over us, they had among them a 
 murderous lot. Their firing into the barracks during the 
 night became a matter of such common occurrence that men 
 in the outer rows next to the dead line feared to sleep on 
 the upper and middle bunks, and slept on the floor in many 
 instances for safety. I cannot recall having heard of any 
 others having been killed or wounded by shooting into the 
 barracks during the nights. If none were wounded, it is a 
 wonder. I give only those cases I myself saw. Others doubt- 
 less witnessed as many other murders as I did. Mine is the 
 experience of only one prisoner in that dreadful place. 
 
 One warm day in spring toward evening a crowd had gath- 
 ered at the lower end of 44 as usual to hold confab with the 
 inmates of the "Calf Pen" and in many instances exchange 
 rough "compliments." I happened to be among the audience 
 taking note of the "badinage;" and as it happened that day, 
 the same scowling-visaged nigger who had killed the man at 
 No. 30 was on guard. The boys would crowd the line, some 
 even going beyond it when the sentry's back was turned, but 
 scooting back as soon as he was on the point of turning. 
 Right here I wish to repeat what I then told those fellows : 
 that if he had turned suddenly nd fired into them he would 
 have been perfectly justified. They were treading forbidden 
 ground, and knew that they were making themselves liable. 
 As he had more than once ordered them back from the line, 
 naturally he became impatient. So would I or any other in 
 the same circumstances. 
 
 About twelve feet from the line stood a tree leaning slightly 
 toward the avenue and almost opposite the steps of 44. Against 
 this tree was leaning a young man of Price's army with his 
 arms crossed on his breast, a silent onlooker, taking no part 
 whatever in what was going on ; nor had he moved from the 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 35 
 
 time he had planted himself against the tree, altogether in 
 the rear of the crowd. Hence any order to "move back" did 
 not affect him in the least. Nor was he in any way subject 
 to the order, no more than if he had been sitting quietly on 
 the steps of the barrack. 
 
 I noticed that the sentry was shortening his walk and told 
 the boys to keep away from the line. I was intent on watch- 
 ing him now to the exclusion of all else ; and when he came 
 back toward the ditch a last time I moved back into the ave- 
 nue at the end of 44 as he passed that end and said to 
 the crowd : "For God's sake, boys, move back from the line. 
 You know that he shot one man without any cause at all, and 
 I tell you he is going to shoot if you don't keep away." And 
 with that I moved still farther back. The nigger moved along 
 slowly; and, as I was told, wheeled suddenly before arriving 
 at the end of his beat, threw his gun up, and called (that 
 T heard), "Git back dar, d — n you!" and started back. The 
 crowd scattered, some passing me on the run. Arriving at 
 the corner and seeing only the crowd on the avenue scattered, 
 he paid no attention to any of them; but directed his whole 
 attention to the young Missourian, who had not moved in all 
 the while and was still leaning against the tree, with his arms 
 crossed on his breast and with the faintest suspicion of a 
 smile on his face, as of one slightly amused by the antics of a 
 lot of children at play. The very calmness of his attitude and 
 appearance was too much for the nigger. I saw him raise his 
 gun and pull the trigger and saw the bark of the tree rise 
 with the concussion of the shock of the impact of the mur- 
 derer's bullet. The poor fellow fell in a heap at the foot of 
 the tree — dead, bored through the throat. (Mark 12.) An- 
 other home in which some one would vainly await the coming 
 of a son, a brother, and mayhap a sweetheart. 
 
 I submit it to the judgment of the most partial critics that 
 had the sentry fired at any other of the men who had been 
 "crowding" the dead line he would at least have had some 
 show of justification; but he could not by any possible means 
 have failed to see this man and that he had never moved from 
 the time he had taken his s'tand against the tree, had never 
 approached the dead line, nor taken any part beyond being a 
 
36 ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 mere spectator. It was nothing more, nothing less than a 
 cold-blooded murder, as were those which preceded it. 
 
 But it was the "last straw." An indignation meeting was 
 held, and the presence of the commanding officer on the 
 ground shortly after the occurrence was fraught with results. 
 I cannot state positively whether he was sent for or whether 
 he came in to inform himself of the affair of his own volition. 
 I only know that I saw Lieutenant Colonel Carraher, who was 
 in command that day, at 44 on the avenue surrounded by a 
 score or more of excited but none the less quietly deter- 
 mined men. T hastily drew near and heard some words which 
 showed the temper of the men who were addressing the 
 Colonel. He listened with a grave face. Said the spokesman: 
 "Colonel, we have come to the limit of endurance. We are 
 being shot like dogs at all hours of day and night, when we 
 walk on the streets and when we are asleep in our bunks. 
 And now here is another man murdered in broad daylight 
 without the least show of an excuse: This nigger has killed, 
 two men without a shadow of reason, and now listen : this 
 nigger must go out of this prison, and stay oat. If ever. He 
 comes back into this prison, we'll hang him, understand that. 
 And you have not got men enough outside to prevent it. If 
 it comes to' the point of being murdered like dogs, then you'll 
 have to kill us all." 
 
 Colonel Carraher looked around and said : "Well, men, you 
 are right. I'll see that this man is taken out, and I promise 
 you that he will not come in here again." 
 
 More followed on the same subject which I do not recall. 
 At all events, the nigger was immediately relieved, and I 
 never saw him again; also I noticed and recall that there was 
 much less shooting after that. In truth, I cannot recall an- 
 other case of wanton shooting afterwards. But was it not 
 about time that it ceased? Nine men killed outright and three 
 wounded, one' of whom, I was informed, died of his wound in 
 the hospital. Can Andersonville, with its 52,000 and odd 
 hundred inmates, show a like proportionate number- of men 
 foully murdered ? Can any other Southern prison show a 
 like list of wanton murders? If so, no records have ever re- 
 vealed the fact. No article ever published in the most 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 37 
 
 rabid, radical journal of the North during the war or after 
 showed such figures.' Nor does any record by any 
 prisoner held in the South record any such murdering of 
 prisoners as has been shown in these pages. Not even at the 
 trial of Captain Wirz could such accusations be brought 
 against him, and he had 52.345 prisoners to guard; while 
 we were at the most 12,883, which is 568 more than the fig- 
 ures 1 was furnished with from the prison books June 15. 
 1865, while yet there. 
 
 Supposing the charge made against Captain Wirz was true, 
 in that he had killed a prisoner himself, was he in any way 
 whatever more guilty of murder than was Col. A. J. Johnston 
 for allowing his men to shoot prisoners as were those in the 
 cases T have cited? It will be difficult to show that he was 
 less of a murderer. His published answer to his critics and 
 accusers dated November 23, 1864, in view of . succeeding 
 events wherein I have shown three men foully slain and one 
 wounded as well as the killings which had preceded these 
 and the countless shootings into the barracks in the night, 
 when for fear of being shot while asleep in their bunks men 
 slept on the floor, stands a perpetual accusation against him. 
 If he could not have his way. a most inhuman way, by his own 
 words, he permitted his men to murder prisoners under his 
 charge. 
 
 It will not do to endeavor to exonerate Colonel Johnson 
 on the ground that he was ignorant of the actions of the 
 troops under his command. That would put upon him the 
 brand of utter incompetency and his utter unfitness for the 
 command of even a very limited number of men in any 
 capacity whatever. And we well know that from a military 
 point of view he was as capable as the majority of officers 
 of like rank. To what, then, are we to ascribe his utter in- 
 difference to the acts of his men as herein stated? There is 
 but one answer; and the key to that answer, revealing the 
 whole character of the man, is to be found in his letter of 
 November 23, 1864, to which reference has hereinfore been 
 made, and of which we heard at the time and which subse- 
 quent events fully confirmed. 
 
 . . In the first place instead of placing them in fine, 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 comfortable barracks, with three large stoves in each and as 
 much coal as they can burn both day and night, / zuould place 
 them in a pen with no shelter but the heavens, as our poor 
 men were at Andersonville. Instead of giving them the same 
 quality and nearly the same quantity of provisions that the 
 troops on duty receive, I would give them as near as possible 
 the same quantity and quality of provisions that the fiendish 
 Rebels give our men ; and instead of a constant issue of 
 clothing to them, I would let them wear their rags, as our 
 poor men in the hands of the Rebel authorities are obliged 
 to do." . . . 
 
 Italics in the phrase, "nearly the same quantity," are mine. 
 
 Colonel Johnson referred to the period ending June 10, 1864, 
 to which it truthfully applied; but his language was intended 
 to convey the impression that we were served with "quantity" 
 continuously and were being served with this same "quantity" 
 at the time he wrote that letter. In so doing he was guilty 
 of uttering a deliberate falsehood, be he living or dead. It 
 stands a deliberate falsehood, and none knew it better than 
 he. But it is only in keeping with the principles* and senti- 
 ments set forth in that letter. Had he had his way, he would 
 have starved us to death, not even allowing us fuel with 
 which to cook the meager food given us, and his humanity 
 ( ?) would have led him to put us in an "open pen" in a 
 latitude where the mercury drops to forty degrees below zero 
 in winter and reaches one hundred degrees and over in mid- 
 summer. Verily, I would not be here to-day inscribing these 
 bitter, cruel truths which for forty-four years I have kept 
 locked away that none but the most intimate friends might see, 
 and no one has ever yet seen the whole. 
 
 It is unseemly that, standing as we are, with one foot 
 on the edge of the grave which is soon to be our last resting 
 place, circumstances should force us in sheer self-defense 
 to dig down through the putrid mold of forty years and bring 
 forth in the sunlight the grinning skull and clanking, loath- 
 some bones of a sad and lamentable past. It has been a pain- 
 ful task, one which I had hoped I would never be called 
 upon to undertake; for should it come to the light, there are 
 (hose of my own blood and kindly friends who wore the 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 39 
 
 blue, North and South, East and West, who must feel the 
 stings conveyed by these pages — noble men who did their duty 
 as they saw it, honorably and in the most humane and Chris- 
 tianlike spirit, among the guards who surrounded us and 
 among those who conducted us to our prison ; men for whom 
 in all these years I have had but the most kindly feelings and 
 whom I would be glad to meet at any time or at any place. 
 "Let us have peace." Aye ! but a "peace at any price" is the 
 peace purchased by poltroons. 
 
 Supplemental to the foregoing by Comrade Minnich it is 
 deemed well by those who have the printing in charge to 
 reproduce the story of Mrs. Kate E. Perry-Mosher from the 
 Confederate Veteran (pages 27-33) for January, 1906. This 
 is additional to what was promised in the procurement of funds 
 from friends for the publication. 
 
MRS. KATE E. PERRY- M OS HER. 
 
HISTORY OF ROCK ISLAND, ILL., 1863. 
 
 [Paper read by Mrs. Kate E. Perry-Mosher, Honorary 
 President of the Henrietta Hunt Morgan Chapter, U. D. C, 
 >£e3^S% Ky. She resides at gj^LJE*sl=r?xh Street, Coving- 
 ton, Ky.] fS'S^ ^ eu/^4^yW2^^ , C^m^'^ 
 
 I had gone to Rock Island in 1863 on a pleasure trip, and 
 spent the summer with relatives there, never dreaming that 
 a thing so momentous was to transpire as that the United 
 States government would use the island for a military prison. 
 The United States gained its right to this island through the 
 Harrison Treaty with the chiefs of the Sac and Fox tribes 
 of Indians, made at St. Louis in November, 1804. This had 
 been their garden spot and the resort of the tribes during the 
 summer months, because they found there an abundance of 
 wild fruit, strawberries, blackberries, plums, etc., and they 
 imagined it was cared for by a good spirit, who lived in a 
 cave just under where Fort Armstrong was afterwards built. 
 He was white, with large wings like a swan's, only ten times 
 larger. I've often heard this legend and seen the cave The 
 Indians were loath to part with the island, since, too, the river 
 supplied them with such fine fish, the island itself being the 
 largest and most beautiful throughout the length of the great 
 Mississippi River, which is quite two thousand miles. 
 
 Rock Island derives its name from the fact of its resting 
 upon a bed of rock, consisting of limestone in horizontal 
 strata well adapted for building purposes. It lies in the Mis- 
 sissippi River, between the cities of Moline and Rock Island, 
 111. It is about three miles long, its greatest breadth being one 
 mile. It is bounded for the most part by precipitous cliffs, 
 being exceptional in the respect that most of its rock-ribbed 
 boundary is above flood mark by from fourteen to twenty feet. 
 At this point the river and the island run east and west. 
 The eastern, or what appears to be the upper, part of the 
 
4- 
 
 ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 island lies near Moline ; the western, or foot of the island, is 
 just at the city of Rock Island on the Illinois shore and op- 
 posite Davenport on the Iowa side. The boundary line sep- 
 arating Illinois from Iowa midriver places the island in 
 Illinois. 
 
 The island seems to have had no history until the breaking 
 out of the war with Great Britain, in 1812. The first incident 
 of that war which concerned it was the attack upon Governor 
 Clark's expedition to Prairie Du Chien by the Indians, which 
 they nearly destroyed. Then the government established a 
 fort there to protect the settlers, control the Sac and Fox 
 tribes, and guard the travel upon the river. 
 
 In 1817 Fort Armstrong was built, and two companies of 
 infantry stationed there regularly. In 1831 a most stirring 
 chapter was added to its history, as the valiant garrison suc- 
 cessfully defended the post 'and settlers during the "Black 
 Hawk War." Lieut. Col. Zachary Taylor (afterwards Presi- 
 dent of the United States), Lieut. Jefferson Davis, and Abra- 
 ham Lincoln took part in these furious encounters. In 1837 
 Lieut. Robert E. Lee surveyed the river channel here in the 
 interest of the Mississippi River improvement, for be it 
 known that here is the foot of the rapids, which extend up 
 and beyond some fourteen to eighteen miles. . 
 
 Pause one moment, note this group of men : Jefferson 
 Davis, Abraham Lincoln, Robert «E. Lee. Their lives even 
 then seemed to run in near parallels ; later, each stepped 
 grandly forth, doing manfully and nobly the work life had for 
 their hands, leaving, when death came, names emblazoned in 
 glory upon the escutcheon of their country, and a love in the 
 hearts of its people that will never die. 
 
 In 1856, when Jefferson Davis was Secretary of War, he 
 warmly advocated the location of a mid-continent arsenal 
 upon the island, his earlier experience of twenty-two years 
 before convincing him of its unequaled importance for ord- 
 nance purposes. Being so far inland, he considered it safe 
 from attack by enemies by either lake or river. While he 
 held the war portfolio, he used his influence and the authority 
 of his position to prevent the government from selling the 
 island to settlers who were anxious to locate there. It seemed 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 43 
 
 the very irony of fate that in the near future this very spot 
 which he had so clung to and warmly defended for the gov- 
 ernment should have "been chosen for a military prison, where 
 brave men who devoutly believed in the cause they and he 
 espoused should be placed, many to suffer and die. 
 
 In 1863 the island was covered with a dense timber growth, 
 much of which was an undergrowth of what is known as 
 "black-jack," a species of. oak; but most of the trees were of 
 the forest primeval. It was in the summer and fall of that 
 year, 1863, that the United States government decided to 
 build barracks here for a military prison. For this purpose 
 it was most admirably situated, being far removed from the 
 scenes of war, comparatively isolated, and considered very 
 secure. Extensive barracks were built, and it became one 
 of the largest military prisons of the North. The quarters 
 for the prisoners were built on the north side — i. e., facing 
 the Mississippi River upon a sheer precipice whose foot 
 reached the murmuring water as it flowed beneath — and 
 about one mile from the lower or western end of the island. 
 The prison covered about twelve acres. While it was con- 
 sidered the safest location, it exposed the buildings to the 
 merciless blasts of the icy, cutting winds, which swept up and 
 down the great, broad river. 
 
 A company of friends and I went all through the inclosure 
 just as the barracks were finished. They were built of green 
 lumber, which would shrink in the process of seasoning, 
 leaving great gaps or cracks for the play of the freezing, 
 piercing, searching wind and snow. To give an idea of the 
 severity of the winters, I will state that I have been driven 
 with a large party, in a band wagon sleigh drawn by four 
 horses, across the Mississippi River at Rock Island, it being 
 three-quarters of a mile wide, the ice covering it many 
 inches thick. To emphasize still more : Sometime in the 
 sixties the pier near the Iowa shore of the Chicago, Rock 
 Island, and Pacific Railway bridge was pushed bodily by the 
 heavy ice down the stream some twenty-five feet. Again, 
 during a severe windstorm the draw of the bridge (it is 
 immense) was lifted from its masonry and blown over on 
 its side upstream, so it hung suspended by the dra.w pier, 
 
44 
 
 ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 with both ends free in midair. Think of this, and then for- 
 mulate some idea of how inhospitable this climate would 
 prove to men thinly clad and just from the Southland of 
 sunshine and roses. 
 
 As I have said, it was intended to be a large prison, which 
 indeed it proved to be, as over twelve thousand men were 
 confined there. This was not a fluctuating population, but a 
 settled one, that remained. They were prisoners! What a 
 condition ! The prison itself took the form of a rectangle. 
 There were fourteen east and west rows of one-story frame 
 buildings, six in a row. Each barrack was one hundred feet 
 long by twenty wide, with v/indows and three-tier bunks in 
 the sides' and a door in each end. Each barrack, when not 
 crowded, would accommodate one hundred and twenty men. 
 Of course they were constructed of rough boards, without 
 paint outside or plaster within. There were fourteen rows 
 of buildings, seven rows on the north and seven rows on the 
 south. An avenue, at least seventy-five feet wide, ran through, 
 dividing them. Then about fifty feet from the ends and sides 
 of the buildings was the stockade. This was built of heavy 
 timbers placed upon end and duly secured. On the outside of 
 the stockade ran the parapet wide enough for the guards, who 
 were constantly on duty, to pass and repass, there being also 
 sentinel boxes every one hundred feet. 
 
 On the inside the stockade was paralleled by the dead line. 
 This was really a ditch, which was equidistant, or about 
 twenty-five feet each way, from barracks and stockade, over 
 which should an unfortunate soul try to pass he was shot- 
 killed if the miserable aim of the ever-vigilant guard on the 
 parapet above proved true or his shot did not run wild. 
 God knows his will was good, as murder was in his heart. 
 These guards were volunteers from the 43d Iowa "Gray- 
 beards," called "Graybeards" because they were middle- 
 aged with gray hair and beards; also the 4th Regiment Vet- 
 eran Reserve Corps and the 108th Colored Volunteer Infantry 
 from Kentucky. They had never been under fire, knew noth- 
 ing of the baptism of blood, yet considered it a sacred duty 
 to serve their country by deliberately killing one of their 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 45 
 
 defenseless foes upon the least provocation or none at all. 
 Many poor prisoners were thus shot to death. 
 
 I was never on the parapet at Rock Island after the prison- 
 ers came ; but was on that at Camp Chase, near Columbus, 
 Ohio, whither my brother, as a prisoner of war, was trans- 
 ferred from Alton, 111., that being a condemned prison — i. e., 
 spies who were condemned to death were put there. It was 
 considered good enough for Forrest's men ; but my father 
 never rested until he effected a change and had my brother 
 removed to Camp Chase, so afraid was he that a mistake (?) 
 might be made, it being a very easy matter to order my 
 brother out to be shot, especially since he had incurred their 
 intense displeasure by compelling a faithful friend (who was 
 held as a spy) to take his place on the exchange, my brother 
 keeping out of sight until the safd exchange had passed 
 Fortress Monroe. 
 
 The island of Rock Island is separated from the mainland 
 by an arm of the river running around it up to Moline. This 
 body of water was known as the "Slough" in those days. In 
 summer, when the river was low, the Slough would be at 
 such times some two or three hundred feet wide and not very 
 deep. What impediment was that to a prisonr who had es 
 caped when possible liberty lay beyond? Across the foot, 
 or west end, of the island runs the Chicago, Rock Island, and 
 Pacific railroad. The Chicago trains come into the Rock Is- 
 land yards, cross the Slough on a bridge, then the great bridge 
 to Davenport, and thence on west. 
 
 It was on a dark, raw, gloomy day, December 3, 1863, when 
 the first Confederate prisoners came. I promise you, it was 
 a day fraught with intense excitement, never to be forgotten. 
 The whole city was on the qui vwe, with Davenport to help. 
 Real, live Rebels were coming! and. ridiculous as it may 
 seem, it is a fact that many were frightened, actually afraid 
 of a disarmed foe. Still, they had curiosity to see how he 
 looked, blankly disappointed, no doubt, to find him minus the 
 horns and cloven hoofs. Some, let us hope, had hearts filled 
 with a Godlike pity and a compassion divine for these brave 
 heroes that the fortune of war had sent into their midst. 
 It was known that the "prisoners' train" was to be run an 
 
46 
 
 ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 the island to a certain point, switched off, and they disem- 
 barked and marched to the prison, a mile away. Hundreds 
 of Rock Island and Davenport citizens stood waiting at the 
 designated place. A strong, thick cable of rope was run to 
 keep the people back. The police of both cities were out in 
 full force, with deputies sworn in. 
 
 The shrill whistle of the incoming train at last sounded, 
 and the excitement began. As for myself, I was quivering 
 with contending emotions — grief, which I was too proud to 
 show, and a deep and tender pity ior these my people from 
 the far-away Southland, who had battled for the cause they 
 believed to be true. Here they stood, hopeless, forlorn, and 
 seemingly forsaken! My heart was nearly bursting; the blood 
 was racing and leaping through my veins; my very brain was 
 whirling. My soul reached out in agony and despair, wild 
 with desperation over the fate of war. As they marched 
 past, I was beside myself with suppressed pity — fury, if you 
 will — and excitement ! Had I been killed, I would have 
 spoken. Waving my kerchief, I steadied my voice and said: 
 "I am from Kentucky, and a friend." "No talking to the 
 prisoners!' 1 ordered the police. O, you should have seen the 
 eager faces of the Confederates ! How they lighted up to 
 know that even one confessed friend was so near, and she a 
 countrywoman ! It seemed to thrill them. The word was 
 passed up and down the line like wildfire. "There she is! 
 there she is !" and every hat was raised as they passed. All 
 this was but making matters worse for me, already nearly 
 beside myself. I was simply wild, and yet tried hard to be 
 seemingly composed. "Any of the 9th Tennessee, Forrest's 
 command, here? My brother's regiment?" "Yes, yes; lots 
 of them," with eager looks beyond expression. "No talking 
 to the prisoners!" thundered a policeman. 
 
 A' few days after the doorbell rang. The maid came to me 
 and said a soldier wished to see me. Going to the recep- 
 tion room, I saw a United States sergeant. He saluted, and 
 handed me a letter. Imagine my surprise to find that it was 
 from one of my brother's men ! I at once saw a way for an 
 "underground," and, believe me, I improved it. I talked to 
 this sergeant until he promised me most faithfully that he'd 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 47 
 
 aid me all he could in carrying both notes and tobacco to the 
 prisoners. May the eternal God have loved and blessed him 
 for all he did! He proved as true as steel. Although ar- 
 rested several times after returning to the island from the 
 city, each time, he told me, he had torn the notes into snips. 
 His guard, believing him innocent, did not watch him closely, 
 and before reaching headquarters, a mile away, he had thrown 
 the pieces to the winds. The tobacco he kept, as there could 
 be no proof it was not his own. Fortunately I always 
 gave verbal instructions about that. So when he went into 
 the prison (he had charge of a barrack), he'd take the to- 
 bacco in and give it as per my wish. 
 
 The day I saw the prisoners (the first who came) I then 
 and there determined to do all I could for them ; but before 
 going to work T resolved to see what authority I could have. 
 
 So I wrote at once to Mr. Stanton, President Lincoln's Sec- 
 retary of War, to ascertain what privileges I would be 
 granted in sending food and clothing. I took particular pains 
 to let it be known at headquarters that I had done this and 
 that I had received instructions. All of my reserved forte 
 came to my aid. I was young, strong, healthy to a degree, 
 and one of the most devoted, enthusiastic Rebels that ever 
 claimed glorious "Old Kentucky" as her birthplace and home. 
 
 I began my work by writing to all my friends in Kentucky 
 and everywhere else, asking for speedy aid. I wanted cloth- 
 ing and tobacco, the soldier's solace, but clothing especially. 
 Then I begged all these friends to ask their friends, in this 
 way establishing a sort of endless chain. Soon box after 
 box of clothing and boxes of edibles began coming in. The 
 latter, however, were generally sent for special friends. This 
 contribution of clothing, shoes, tobacco, etc., continued to 
 come in for months. I turned my cousin's aviary into a 
 perfect "country store." 
 
 The prisoners knew what I was doing, and were constantly 
 writing through headquarters for aid. I have now hundreds 
 of such letters, bearing silent testimony to this fact, which 
 I've kept as sacred 1 through all these years. I would take 
 each letter, make a list of the writer's wants, get the re- 
 quired articles together, putting same into a secure package, 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 then on a slip of paper write the prisoner's name and number 
 of barrack, then beneath itemize the contents of said pack- 
 age, sign my own name as the sender (this was required), 
 and secure this paper upon the bundle. Of course these were 
 all searched at headquarters, that no contraband should go 
 in. Upon certain days I'd send large consignments. One 
 day it happened that I sent a very large lot. By this time, I 
 must say, I was known, not only as a sympathizer, but an 
 out-and-out Rebel, which fact was, of course, beyond conceal- 
 ment. When my expressman drove up and they took the 
 packages out, there were so many ; and, seeing my name upon 
 them so repeatedly, the officer in charge lost all patience and 
 yelled out : "Miss Kate E. Perry ! Miss Kate E. Perry ! I 
 wish she'd never been born !" 
 
 As to the underground routes, besides the faithful sergeant 
 already spoken of, one of the United States surgeons was 
 kind enough to carry many notes. His family and my rela- 
 tives were old and close friends, so he was soon sounded and 
 used. Then the humble driver of a milk wagon was another 
 whose heart was kind. Pie did splendid service, too. I also 
 had various others, but must not forget to add to the list 
 a very important aid — a Roman Catholic priest. He often 
 visited the prison, as many children of his Church were there. 
 He was permitted to go within the stockade, and had an 
 especial barrack given him for confessional. After shriving 
 members of his own Church, he'd send for one of the men 
 to whom my notes were addressed. He told me the man 
 would come with wild and anxious countenance and bulging 
 eyes, he being a Protestant, wondering what a Catholic priest 
 wanted with him. He soon found out, took all notes to de- 
 liver, having sworn to keep faithfully his own counsel after. 
 
 Time wore on, the dreadful winter finally passed, the 
 poor prisoners in the meanwhile having suffered terribly. The 
 severe climate, the insufficient clothing, food, and bedding, 
 and the condition of their barracks all told most seriously 
 against them. Many wrote me by the underground that upon 
 unusually cold nights they divided up and slept by relief, 
 comrades taking turns sitting up to keep the fires going in 
 the stoves the best they could (this by stealth after lights 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 49 
 
 out) to keep from freezing. Portions of their bunks were 
 often used to aid in this. Nevertheless, many poor souls did 
 freeze. 
 
 The blessed spring, though late and shy in that climate, 
 came at last, bringing softer, balmier air, and thus physical 
 relief. In the meanwhile many had sickened and died, the 
 number of Confederate graves fast growing. Smallpox added 
 its horrors and swept many away. As the summer advanced 
 the prisoners became restless. Plans of escape were made — 
 some successful, while many failed. The prisoners were re- 
 quired to do all kinds of menial work — cleaning officers' 
 quarters, scavenger, breaking rock, cutting undergrowth for 
 a new road, digging and grading the same — the guard, of 
 course, standing over them. But they were glad indeed to 
 get "outside" at any price, for obvious reasons. Many never 
 returned. 
 
 A lady from Missouri (a Mrs. Lynch), whose husband was 
 a prisoner on the island, had written us that she was anxious' 
 to visit him. She came at last, but was not permitted to see 
 her husband. She was grievously disappointed and almost 
 heartbroken. Then it was concluded that it was a propitious 
 time for my underground to be called into requisition. 
 Through it we arranged all the details of a very daring 
 scheme. Mr. Lynch was to try to escape. On a certain day 
 he was to take the place of one of the prisoners sent out to 
 work the road. We knew he could get some clothing in the 
 stockade, and by a trusted hand we sent a pair of goggles. 
 All things arranged and the day understood, we baked an old- 
 fashioned jelly cake, and in the very center, wrapped in oil 
 silk, was a pass, passes being required on the bridge over the 
 Slough between the island and the city. Guards were posted 
 to examine them. 
 
 The cake and a few other edibles were, with some trifles, 
 put into a small basket, which the wife took over the after- 
 noon before the date set for the culmination of our plot, and 
 begged to see her husband. Again she was refused. Then 
 she asked, with streaming eyes (for by this time she was 
 both nervous and frightened, knowing what the morrow prom- 
 ised), that the little basket, with its innocent-looking contents, 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISOti. 
 
 might be sent to her husband. The officer of the day, after 
 having it fully examined, called an orderly and sent it in. 
 She returned greatly elated and excited. We became some- 
 what nervous. The scheme had carried well so far. The 
 plot had begun, we knew it was at work, and that his fate 
 and ours would be decided within the next twenty-four hours. 
 He was to go on the detail for outside work the very next 
 morning. It was then he was to get away, if he could, we 
 to be ready to give him instant help in getting off and away. 
 
 The night passed, fair morning beamed. We watched and 
 waited. The hours dragged ; the long suspense seemed al- 
 most insupportable. Our nerves were strung to such a high 
 tension that the minutes seemed hours. The time seemed 
 full of evil portent. Fearing something had miscarried, we 
 were almost at our wits' end, when suddenly the doorbell 
 rang with a loud and shrill peal. We cautiously looked, and 
 behold, our prisoner was at the door ! His wife rushed into 
 his outstretched arms, w r ild with weeping, and nearly swooned. 
 In the rush and hurry of preparation to get off, he quickly 
 told us how he watched his chance, friends in the plot help- 
 ing. He stepped behind an embankment, tore off his working 
 clothes (he had on a suit under them), put on the blue gog- 
 gles, and came slowly walking around 1 the other way,, and 
 stopped to look at the prisoners' work. His friends dared not 
 look at him; but he actually addressed them some passing 
 remark. Up rushed the guard and ordered him to "Move 
 on ! No talking to the prisoners !" He did move on, but not 
 before he heard one of his friends say, sotto voce: "Free, by 
 God." 
 
 All this was a tremendous risk, but he had weighed his 
 chances. It was "liberty or death.'' He nerved himself to 
 pass through the ordeal. He got to the Slough bridge, drew 
 out his pass; and was sent ahead. We got him ready and 
 speedily sent him off to a certain point to take an outgoing 
 train. He left on the double-quick, and got safely away. 
 
 Mr. L. was scarcely out of sight before I rushed to the 
 coachman and ordered him to bring the carriage to the door 
 as quickly as he could put the horses to it. I then ran to 
 my cousin and asked her to be ready, for her life, as soon as 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 she could, telling her about the carriage and that we must 
 call at once upon Mrs. Johnson (we exchanged visits), whose 
 husband, Col. A. J. Johnson, commanded the post. We got 
 off on time, were driven very fast, and serenely made our call. 
 We also went and made a call upon Mrs. Layton, whose hus- 
 band was in charge of the correspondence of prisoners. It 
 seems that .we thus established an "alibi," for in the hubbub 
 caused by the escape we heard that Colonel Johnson sai J 
 during the commotion when discussing the affair: "Miss Perry 
 is certainly innocent of this, for at that very time she was 
 calling p.t my house." If the thought was any comfort to him, 
 he was welcome to it. 
 
 One day I was hastily called to the front gate, and found 
 there a young surgeon of the staff whom I had met socially 
 and knew very well. I insisted upon his dismounting (he 
 was gorgeous in high riding boots and equipments generally), 
 but he declined, saying he was in a most fearful hurry. He 
 had promised to deliver a letter to me. This he said he would 
 do provided I'd give him my sacred word that I'd burn it 
 the moment I had finished reading it. He told me that the 
 writer had not long since been ill, was sent to the hospital, 
 and was in his ward'; that he liked him much, formed quite 
 a friendship for him, and felt sorry for him. He said he 
 (the surgeon) knew the contents of said letter, and conse- 
 quently knew the great risk he was taking. " I gave the de- 
 sired pledge, he handed me the letter, and was evidently much 
 frightened at his own act. Putting spurs to his horse, he tore 
 up the avenue like mad: 
 
 The letter was from a prisoner who intended trying to 
 escape and wanted me to know, so that I might be ready. 
 That letter was genuine. I knew the writing well. I could 
 not say so much of one that came soon after. A few days 
 later, when I happened to be out (and I always did think 
 they saw me go), two strange soldiers came, bringing a letter 
 addressed to "Faithful." Be it known that that was my under- 
 ground nom de plume. My cousin was foolish enough to 
 receive the letter for me. That was, of course, an admission. 
 If I were to be betrayed, they had 1 gained their object. 
 
 When I returned from down' town, I was overwhelmed to 
 
52 
 
 ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 find what my cousin had done. I knew instantly that either 
 some underground mail had been captured or that treachery 
 was abroad from some quarter. The authorities had evidently 
 found something, and the question arose among them : "Who 
 is 'Faithful?'" They determined to discover. Either it was 
 some member of Mrs. Charles Buford's family , (they were 
 Kentuckians and all Rebels, Mrs. Buford being Gen. Basil 
 Duke's own aunt) or it was that thorn in their side, Miss 
 Kate E. Perry. So my cousin's having received the note for 
 me placed it at once. 
 
 This letter, though bearing the same information as the 
 first, was written in a strange hand. The excuse was that 
 Mr. Burton, who wrote the one the frightened surgeon gave 
 me, was ill, and one of the party who were to escape with, 
 him had been requested to write this for him. The writer 
 went on to say that their plans were all laid and were sure 
 to carry, and that my cousin, members of Mrs. Buford's 
 family, and myself must not fail to be at the depot on a cer- 
 tain night; that Mr. Burton, from Shelbyville, Ky. (I had 
 never seen him — he was a prison friend), would have a white 
 string around his hat ; that I would thus instantly know him, 
 and should approach him without fear, with the money for the 
 hoped-for journey. When I finished reading that letter, I 
 laughed and wcjndered if the writer considered me an abso- 
 lute fool. The more I thought it over, the more indignant 
 and troubled I became, feeling sure it was a trap. Who had 
 betrayed me? I was certain that the orderly who had been 
 faithful so long had not. I was also sure of the Catholic 
 priest and of the old doctor, who was a family friend. Either 
 I had been deliberately betrayed by the young surgeon who 
 gave me the letter at the gate or they had captured impor- 
 tant mail in- some inexperienced hand. Immediately I wrote 
 to friends on the inside, telling them of the disaster and 
 charging them never to address "Faithful" again, but instead 
 "Pauline;" that she would be just as true. 
 
 The day came for the "coup" at the depot. We paid no 
 attention to it — not foolish enough to fall into that trap. We 
 remained safely at home. We afterwards heard through a 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 53 
 
 military friend that it was a deep-laid plot to catch all the 
 sympathizers at once, red-handed. 
 
 A note was left at the door one day by two escaped prison- 
 ers from Camp Douglas, near Chicago. I knew the men- 
 old friends and neighbors. One was J. Carroll Hamilton, of 
 Sparta, Ky., brother of Mrs. J. P. Garvey, now of California. 
 Some six or eight men had tunneled out from Camp Douglas, 
 among them being Mr. Marion Birch, of Woodford County, 
 Ky., Mr. Osborne, of Virginia, John Story, and J. Carroll 
 Hamilton. I don't remember the names of the others. Upon 
 their escape they separated, the two latter coming to me. I 
 kept on hand what I termed an emergency fund. This served 
 me well now. I sent them flying as soon as possible. The 
 amount was returned to me by their friends, so that I might 
 be prepared if called upon. 
 
 During all this time I was not idle with prison and hos- 
 pital work. That went steadily on. It was a life of continual 
 excitement, but my very heart and soul were in it. Though 
 but a girl, I was doing all I could. 
 
 One morning a trim-looking soldier came. He called for 
 me. For some reason (I never could tell why), instantly 
 when I saw him I was "on guard." The man, I thought, 
 was acting a part. So I watched every word I said. He was 
 bright, gentlemanly, and talked and talked. I became un- 
 suspicious. He was a spy. .He simply labored to wring a 
 single admission that I had seen or helped escaped prisoners. 
 Then he'd change his tactics and go on the pathetic — pity 
 them. So would I. I sang and played for him, softened him 
 with music ; then appealed to his better nature, recalling 
 his home, his mother, his love for her. This seemed to be 
 a sacred and tender thing with him. I watched for my life 
 every word I said. I knew Fort Lafayette was my destina- 
 tion ; threats had been made; but apparently I was uncon- 
 cerned. It was a fearful game of "diamond cut diamond." 
 I thought he'd never leave. After hours of fruitless trial, he 
 got up and said : "Miss Perry, I will throw myself upon your 
 mercy and acknowledge that I was sent here." "Indeed !" I 
 exclaimed (I knew it all the time). "Yes," he continued, 
 "but I would suffer my right arm to be cut off before I 
 
54 
 
 ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 would utter one word to injure you." "Thank you," I re- 
 plied. "Now, will you do me one favor?" "Indeed, I will." 
 "Well, it is this: Please tell Colonel Johnson for me that he 
 knows I am a Rebel and that I say he is expected to keep 
 the prisoners in the prison; but if one of them escapes and 
 comes to me for help, I will surely give it, and ha may help 
 it if he can." I did do this, for I was angry, indignant to 
 be so dealt with. The "spy" shook my hand most cordially 
 and left. I used my underground and told some of my 
 friends. 'I hey swore vengeance if they ever got hold of him. 
 
 Late one evening the bell was timidly rung. A young 'boy 
 came— an escaped prisoner ! We got him in. We had means 
 of verifying our friends, and it was just here that the under- 
 ground had served so well. He proved to be George Kern, 
 of Bourbon County, Ky. He was fifteen years old, he said, 
 and was small in stature and slender. We took him to a 
 room upstairs and locked him in. As soon as possible we 
 smuggled him food. We trusted no one. Servants especially 
 might repeat. When he saw the food, he burst into tears. 
 Young and nearly starved, he had wandered in the "black- 
 jack," which had proved the prisoners' friend. Low, bushy, 
 thick, it concealed them. Through its friendly shelter this 
 young boy had hidden one night and that day. 
 
 If I remember correctly, it was Saturday night when he 
 came. Here was a dilemma. We must keep him until Mon- 
 day, and he must then get away. Imagine our situation. An 
 escaped prisoner in the house. We knew we were being 
 watched. Often we saw squads of soldiers with gleaming 
 guns marching past up the avenue. This was a menace. 
 George told us the surgeon of the post had helped him to 
 escape. We were astounded, as we knew him to be exceed- 
 ingly bitter in his feelings toward the South and almost cruel 
 to the prisoners. How the help was given was easily ex- 
 plained. Dr. Watson had driven his buggy within the stock- 
 ade one night. George Kern happened to be near, when it 
 came like a flash : "Here is my chance." He darted under 
 the buggy, caught the coupling pole (I think he called it), 
 threw his feet around it, also clasping it with his hands and 
 arms. When the doughty doctor drove out, behold, he car- 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 55 
 
 ried an escaping prisoner ! Even in our fright we enjoyed 
 the situation, and were immensely amused. 
 
 We held a council of war as to ways and means. I had 
 my emergency fund, and we concluded that, as he was small 
 and slender, we would dress him as a girl. This we did down 
 to every detail. Hoops were worn ; he had them. His bold, 
 eaglelike eyes troubled us. So we trimmed up one of the 
 scoop bonnets worn at that time, and with many adjurations 
 made him promise to keep his eyes cast down. I prepared a 
 pretty little hand basket and placed within it a box of face 
 powder, comb, brush, and all such adjuncts to the toilet, 
 together with extra collars, cuffs, and handkerchiefs. He 
 was to personate a shy country girl. Poor boy ! how sad he 
 was when he bade us farewell ! 
 
 I had lectured him most severely as to how he must act — 
 his manner, etc. — as he was now a girl, and taught him how 
 to manage his hoops, etc. Of course we were most anxious 
 concerning his getting away safely ; but this was such a 
 huge joke that I was fairly dancing with delight. As he left 
 a dreadful storm was coming up, and this favored him. 
 People were rushing home to escape the storm. He barely 
 had time to get to the depot before the storm burst. So in 
 the general confusion he had not attracted notice. He wrote 
 from Cincinnati that at the Rock Island depot that night, in 
 obeying my instructions, he sat off by himself. When the 
 ticket office opened, still he did not move. An officer from 
 the island came up to him. George thought all was over for 
 him when the officer said: "Have you bought your ticket. 
 Miss?" "No, sir," he replied in a frightened feminine voice. 
 "Train will soon leave. Give me your money and destina- 
 tion, and I will assist you." The supposed young lady, with 
 a gasp of relief and a sigh of satisfaction, said : "Chicago 
 and Cincinnati." In a hurried, bustling, business tone the 
 officer said : "You had better get a through ticket to Cin- 
 cinnati." This he kindly bought, and gave it and the change 
 to the young lady ( ?), who gladly got away. 
 
 After he had returned to his home, in Bourbon County. 
 Ky., and exchanged his dress for his own clothes, he was in 
 Paris, Ky., one day when Yankee soldiers arrested him. 
 
5* 
 
 kOCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 Instantly he again assumed the role of a half-witted unfortu- 
 nate. They let him go, and he hurried to Dixie. 
 
 When I read this paper before the Henrietta Hunt Morgan 
 Chapter, U. D. C. January 31, 1901, Mrs. Arnold, who is 
 from Bourbon County, Ky\, exclaimed : "O, I heard of that 
 boy George Kern's being dressed up in girl's clothes." Just 
 before he reached home he was arrested by some Yankee 
 soldiers. They questioned him and among other things 
 asked: "Who is your father?" He replied: "Why, Paw." 
 Who is your mother ?" "Why, Maw." "O !" said one of the 
 men, "she is a fool ; let her go." They actually thought from 
 the way he (or she) acted that he was idiotic, so let him go. 
 He got through the lines, returned to his regiment, and served 
 well afterwards. A comrade who lives in Paris, Ky., tells of 
 him. We cannot find him, but this comrade thinks he is 
 somewhere in Texas. 
 
 We had expected trouble, but heard nothing till two days 
 after. I was called to the door, and found there a United 
 States officer, and to my consternation as T glanced down at 
 the gate I saw a squad of soldiers, with guns gleaming. Like 
 George, I thought my time had come ; but not a muscle 
 quivered, and I controlled my countenance. My excitement 
 found escape in exquisite politeness. I invited the officer in, 
 regretting profusely my cousin's absence. He declined. I 
 saw he meant business-. He said : "It is not Mrs. Boyle. 
 Miss Perry; it is you I want to see." "O, indeed, sir' 
 What can I do for you?" He replied: "I am going to ask 
 \ou a question, and I want you to answer it truthfully. A 
 prisoner has escaped. Have you seen one either yesterday 
 or to-day?' I looked that man straight in the eye and re- 
 plied: "Sir, I have not, either yesterday or to-day." God 
 knows I told' the truth, and there was a jubilee in my heart 
 that I could say this and tell the truth. George Kern had 
 gone the day before yesterday. Had he timed his question 
 in that manner,. I do not know how I should have answered, 
 for I will not soil my soul with a lie. 
 
 At once I sternly demanded that he call his men and search 
 that house. He said: "No; I see you are telling me the 
 truth." With growing indignation I insisted, but he refused. 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 57 
 
 I asked to be excused one instant. I knew the gardener had 
 been cutting grapes. I had the maid pile a large tray full, 
 take it to the door, and offer some to the officer ; then had 
 him call one of his men, who took it to the gate and passed 
 rhe grapes around. A more pleased and delighted group of 
 men you never saw. A soldier always feels complimented by 
 thoughtful notice. Evidently I had by this little attention 
 made friends with all. That officer apologized to me for 
 coming. 
 
 The reason George Kern's escape was not sooner known 
 was that he was always declaring he intended leaving. The 
 sergeant who cared for his barrack had heard this so often 
 that finally he began twitting him in this wise: "Why, hello, 
 George ! Good morning ! 'Not gone yet ?" So when he did 
 escape, the sergeant thought George was hiding, hoping to 
 get him to search and so laugh back at him. This was why 
 two days were lost by the authorities and gained by us. 
 When it dawned upon the sergeant that George was gone 
 sure enough, then he reported and the search was 'taken up, 
 but George by that time was scot-free. 
 
 Another prisoner who escaped and came to me was David 
 H. Ross, of Company C. 8th Georgia, who lived at Rome, 
 Ga. -is— 4 ead now . I was now watched so closely that 
 the situation became most difficult and dangerous. So I was 
 extremely cautious, and put him through a severe cross-ex- 
 amination in regard to things he could not know unless he 
 were true and belonged to the initiated on the inside. He 
 told me how he had escaped. The hospital ambulance was 
 sent in daily for those who were too ill to remain inside. 
 The doctors made their rounds every day to see who should 
 go out. Mr. Ross put on a citizen's suit he had procured, 
 over it a Yankee blue suit, and over that he wrapped a big 
 gray blanket. Just before the ambulance passed out he seated 
 himself on the ' rough margin of a macadamized street — he 
 chose a rough spot purposely. As the ambulance passed and 
 Jehu was looking ahead, he leaped into the ambulance at the 
 back. The sick soldiers had been previously warned, and 
 made no outcry. In a moment he was outside the prison 
 walls. Leaving his blanket in the ambulance, he dropped to 
 
58 ROCK ISLAND PRISON. 
 
 the ground a blue man, crossed the Slough, shed the blue, 
 became a citizen, and thus reached our house. 
 
 When we became satisfied that he was really what he rep- 
 resented himself to be, he was given money and clothing, and 
 off he too went in safety. I heard from him in Canada and 
 several times after he rejoined his regiment in the South. 
 
 One of his friends, j. B. Foster, of Barrack 47, had agreed 
 to answer at roll call for Mr. Ross. The roll cajler for 
 Barrack 47 would take the word of a prisoner's friends that 
 he was sick; but the roll caller in Mr. Ross's barrack would 
 look into the bunk of a man reported sick. Mr. Foster would 
 draw his blanket up close, so that his face was hidden, and 
 for three days he thus deceived the roll caller ; while his 
 comrades in his own barrack reported him sick. Then he 
 answered in Barrack 47, and so far as the guards knew Ross 
 had just escaped. 
 
 Few traces of the prison days remain at Rock Island now. 
 The whole island is changed, but while life lasts the pictures 
 there photographed upon memory will live : The island, the 
 prison, the sorrow felt for the poor men, and the memory of 
 the graves of the valiant dead who were shot, frozen, starved, 
 or died of disease. Although the prison gates were opened 
 wide for all to go free in July, 1865, all who had entered there 
 came not away. Two thousand Confederate soldiers sleep, 
 side by side, far from friends and home. Two thousand lives 
 that were precious to some one passed over to the other shore, 
 "unwept, unhonored, and unsung," without hearing again the 
 voices of beloved ones or gazing "once more" upon their 
 familiar faces when life's vespers rang. 
 
 Upon the very ground where the Confederate hospital 
 stood, where so many suffered and died, now stand the mass- 
 ive shops of the largest, finest, and most thoroughly equipped 
 arsenal^ owned by the United States. As it stands to-day it 
 has cost more than $9,000,000. I cannot but feel that over 
 the graves of our Confederate dead resting there , are sung 
 from the flaming throats of the thunderous forges fierce bat- 
 tle cries, and wrung from the clanging of the ponderous 
 machinery, echoed by the jangling implements of war, a 
 melody which serves as their lullaby! 
 
ROCK ISLAND PRISOX. 
 
 59 
 
 So sleep the deathless dead, but not alone, for the poet 
 says : 
 
 ^^'Wherever the brave have died, 
 
 They should not rest apart. 
 Living, they struggled side by side. 
 Why should the hand of death divide 
 
 A single heart from heart?" 
 
 ^^^^^^