Five hundred days in Rebel prisons / by Charles Fosdick, formerly of Co. K. 5th Iowa vols

HUNDRED DAYS
CHARLES FOSDICK.
REBEL PRISONS.

FIVE HUNDRED DAYS
IN
REBEL PRISONS
CHARLES FOSDICK,
BLYTHE DALE, Mo.,
FORMERLY OF COMPANY K, 5TH IOWA VOLUNTEERS.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
1887.

I! 1 .
COPYRIGHTED BY CHARLES FOSDICK,

l" -. ^ -*. ,

PORTRAIT OP AUTHOR BEFORE CAPTURE.

c
"S--":.~~^ S^XW\. "T.
PORTRAIT OP AUTHOR AT TIME OP RELEASE

TO
PARENTS, WIDOWS, ORPHANS, FRIENDS

SURVIVING COMRADES

OF THOSE WHO LANGUISHED AND DIED IX REBEL PBISONS IS

THIS LITTLE VOLUME

RESPECTFULLY AND FRATERNALLY

DEDICATED.

THE AUTHOR.

FIVE HUNDRED DAYS
IN
REBEL PRISONS
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTION----THE BATTLE OF LOOKOUT MOUNTAIN----PRIS ONERS OF WAR.
I T is through no spirit of hatred or revenge that I write the following narrative of my experience in rebel prisons. In no history of the war is given a detailed ac count of the cruel treatment inflicted, nor sufferings ex perienced by the unfortunate men who were confined in the prisons of the South. History has told us of the great bat tles of the war, and of the thousands killed and many thou sands more wounded, and with what fortitude they endured their sufferings. The heroic deeds of bravery of our volunteer soldiery are written in imperishable characters in gold and bronze, but the fate of the unfortunate captive , does not appear on the pages of history. Hence, it becomes an imperative duty of mine, as well as all other ex-prisoners of the war* to sjive to the country which we saved from an
t--s
0

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FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

unwarrantable separation the account of our incarceration in Southern military prisons, and the cruelties practiced on de fenceless men by a cruel and heartless foe.
The veterans of the war are daily being summoned to rearms above, and a new generation is taking their places as sovereigns of the nation, and it is but right that they should be told of the sufferings and sacrifices of the Union soldiers
O
in their struggle for human liberty. None but a people who for years have trafficked in human beings as chattels, could practice such barbarities on their fellow men as were perpe trated on the thousands of hapless men held as prisoners of war in Southern prisons. There is a pressing necessity for all accounts of our civil war, that our posterity may know what their liberties have cost in human life and treasure. I feel 1113 inability to make up the great deficiency that exists in the history of rebel prisons ; but I will contribute the following pages, thereby adding my little mite to the liter ature of the war for the Union.
This narrative covers more ground, and gives account of prison life in a few prisons than the more voluminous works that have been written on this topic do. Although not going so far into the minor details of the daily routine, yet I have aimed to give the reader a correct synopsis of life in rebel prisons.
As the autumn of 1863 advanced we find Grant in com mand of the Army of the Cumberland, with headquarters at Chattanooga, confronting Braggs rebel .army on Lookout Mountain and Mission Eidge. Grant has called Hooker from the east, and Sherman with his loth Corps from Yicksburg. On the 23d of Xov. the lines are formed and Hooker, with the right wing of the army, moves up the steep sides of Lookout Mountain, while Sherman moves his corps across

FIVE HUNDEED DATS IN HEBEL PRISONS.

7

the Tennessee river in pontoon boats and moves on Mission Ridge, with his left on Chickaniauga creek, while Thomas occupies the center. On the 24th the whole army advances and engages the enemy, driving him from his most advanced position and shortening the distance to his main lines of de fence. The army spends a sleepless night, rearranging their lines and replenishing their empty cartridge boxes, for a general assault on the morrow. When daylight dawns the army is in line, awaiting orders to move forward to battle, nor do they have to wait long. The signal gun is heard, and the order comes to " Charge/ " Away go the blankets, men strip themselves almost to the skin, and the lines of blue move forward on double-quick, confident of victory.
Hooker gains the summit of Lookout, drives the rebels from their guns and captures many prisoners. Thomas is successful in the center, and carries the rebel works on the west end of Mission Eidge and drives everything before him. Bragg rallies his beaten army, and marches to the right on double-quick and launches them against Sherman, to prevent a flank movement which would cut him off from his avenue of retreat. Sherman has now treble his own number to contend with, and the battle rages in all its fury.
The troops advance very slowly, and the enemy disputes every inch of ground. Men fall thick and fast ; our ranks are becoming thinned and no reinforcement within reach. Our 40 rounds of cartridges are running low, and the sun seems to refuse to go down to put an end to the dreadful carnage. To stay in open field, contending with a superior force, strongly fortified, was more than men could stand. Gen. Matthias gave order to "fix bayonets," which was taken up by our Colonel, who shouted at the top of his voice: "Fifth Iowa, fix bayonets, charge!" The brigade

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FIVE HUHDEED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

presses on up the steep hillside, only to be mowed down by

canister and minie ball. They reach the rebel works and

jump inside. The struggle is a hand-to-hand one ; rebel and

Yank go down together, pierced through with each others

bavt> onets. The rebels are reinforced,/ we are surrounded and ninety-five of the 5th Iowa are prisoners of war. We were

marched to the rear through five miles of rebel infantry, and

<_^

9s *

down to Chickamauga station just as the sun was hiding

in the west.

About this time Sherman had dislodged Bragg, and the

whole rebel army was in full retreat. We were halted here I*
and allowed a short breathing spell, and witnessed one af

the greatest stampedes of the war. Rebel artillery, cavalry

and infantry came to the rear like a /

terrible

avalanche.

It

was the stormiest time I had ever witnessed. Men threw

away their guns and knapsacks and took to the woods.

Artillerymen cut their horses loose from their mms and

*

CD

caissons and went to the rear in the wildest excitement. We

were soon ordered into ranks, to resume our march with the

retreating rebel army, and by sunrise the next morning we

had covered thirty miles between us and our friends. We

were at Dalton, Ga. A more completely worn out set of

men we had never seen. Here we were halted and given

some fresh beef and a little salt.

After eating our scanty meal we resumed our march

southward. By this time our squad had increased to about

400. Along in the afternoon we went into camp for the

night. Our little band being without blankets, we gathered

some pine boughs and spread them down to lie on. We

huddled down on these, as close together as possible, so as

to lose no heat, and slept as men never slept before. W e

wakened up in the morning covered with white frost, almost

FIVE HUNDRED DA YS IN REDEL
equal to a light snow, and were so benumbed with cold we could hardly walk. We were not allowed to build fires to warm by, but were ordered to "fall in" and march 12 miles to a station on the railroad where we would draw rations. They put us through pretty lively, so we would not have time to study up any devilment and play them a Yankee trick. We were in light marching order, and on an empty stomach, and we flattered ourselves we could march as fast and as far as the Butternuts who were guarding us.
We arrived at Kingston on Sunday, and were corraled on the railroad track at the depot, so as to give the citizens an opportunity to look upon the Yankee soldiers, more com monly called " Lincoln hirelings." As many had come from the country to attend church that day, there was a consider able crowd gathered around us. The Southern ladies (if 1 can be pardoned for calling them such) walked above us on the platform and spit in our faces, and heaped their bitter epithets and maledictions upon us. I never before or since met such a tirade of abuse, and I sincerely hope I never shall again from the mouth of a female, lest I should lose the respect for the sex whom I hold in such high esteem. They assured us that we would never live to see our home and friends again, which proved only too true to many a brave boy, who afterward perished in a prison cell.
We were here loaded on top of a freight train, which was loaded with rebel wounded, and resumed our journey.

CHAPTER H.
ARRIVAL AT RICHMOND--TRANSFERRED TO BELLE ISLE----THE RATIONS---- 4 "BUG SOUP.''
WHEX we reached Atlanta we were put into a high pen. I am unable to say whether it was built for Yankee prisoners, or was the city pound. We only re mained here two or three days, then started for Richmond, mo, Augusta. Ga., Columbia. S. C., and Raleigh, X. C. They had issued no rations since we started from Atlanta, and we were getting terribly hungry. On the 6th of December we reached Weldon. Ya. Here we changed cars, the guard being thrown out previous to letting the prisoners out of the cars. Inside the guard line stood a small shanty. As soon as I struck the platform I made for the shanty, Yankee fashion, for something to eat. The family were nearly des titute of provisions, but I saw a pan of potato peelings out side the door and I cabbaged on to them, and for the first, last, and only time while I was a prisoner of war did I get enough to satisfy my hunger.
We arrived in Richmond just after lamp-lighting, dis embarked, formed in line and were marched up one street and back another for about an hour. Then they turned us loose into the Pemberton building and locked the doors. On December 7th, we were transferred to Belle Isle, an island in the James River, of which I will attempt a description. It was shaped like a turtles back, higher in the center and
10

flYE HUNDRED DA YS IN EEBEL PRISONS.

11

sloped each way to the waters edge. Let the wind blow from any direction it would sweep the whole island. On this cold, bleak place we were put without tents, without blan kets, without shelter of any kind, to lay on the bare sand and live or die. This was to be our abode for the next three months and a half. There were about ten thousand prisoners on the island when we arrived. Some of the first arrivals had condemned tents, which answered for a kind of shelter. Our little squad wras in a most pitiable condition. Our clothing was worn thin in our campaign around Vicksburg. Our blankets were left at Mission Ridge, and the cold was beginning to pinch us. We could only keep from freezing our extremities by moving about. We could not go day and night for weeks and months and only get one scantjr meal a day, and what was to become of us we did not know. We would walk up and down the alley until we were almost past going, then we would pile up in bunches as you have seen hogs do, to keep us from freezing to death. Hard as we tried, many perished with cold. I saw as many as thirty men carried out in a single day, stark and stiff. I will make this statement, and be qualified to what I say, that during my whole stay in rebel prisons I was not given a blanket or any clothing whatever, no shelter, and nothing to lay on but the ground.
Lieutenant Boisseaux, a little Frenchman, had charge of the prisoners on the Island. He did not seem to be ex tremely cruel, but he went leisurely about and showed a cri minal indifference for the comfort and welfare of those in
his care. When we first wrenton the Island, our rations consisted of
a piece of corn bread, about two inches thick by four inches long, a little bit of bacon and a cup of pea soup. Our soup

12 FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

^

was made in large potash or scalding kettles, set in an arch

or furnace. his would be filled with James River water

and the peas poured in out of sacks, just as they were shipped r

to us, which contained a considerable amount of pods, leaves,

stems and dirt, with multitudes of weavil or black bugs,

which would rise to the top to the thickness of an inch and

formed the principal ingredient of our soup. At first we

would take a spoon or paddle and fish out those insects, but

later on we became so famished for food that we would break

)ur bread into the soup and devour it, bugs and all, thinking

perhaps it would furnish some little nourishment to our fam

ishing bodies.

Our bread was baked in sheet iron pans, size 12 by 18

inches and two inches deep. These would be filled with bat- %

ter made of unsifted corn meal, without salt or other season

ing, then put in these pans and baked in a brick oven. These

loaves of bread were called cards or sections by the rebels,

and when baked would be piled up in front of the cookhouse

on the bare sand, to await grub call. The pea or "bugsoup"

was set out in wooden buckets, which made it very conve

nient for a herd of dogs, the favorites and pets of the officers

and men on duty, to go and eat and drink as their appetites

suggested. This was done before our eyes, and we swore

vengeance on those four-footed thieves if they ever came in

our reach. Finally, one day, one of these dogs chanced to

come within the prison limits, and no sooner in than it was

seized and killed. It was then dressed, cut up and cooked,

*

and furnished a splendid repast for several hungry men.

After this occurrence, and once a taste of fresh meat, the

boys contrived all manner of projects to decoy an unwary *i

dog across the line, that they might make a feast of that

which had been fattened on the prisoners scanty allowance;

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

13

and they were so persistent in their efforts that in a short time there was not a live dog left on Belle Isle.
I have been informed by prisoners that were kept in Eichmond that they did the same thing there, preferring dog meat to starvation
The Richmond Inquirer published a very lengthy article in which it said that clog was a favorite dish with the people of the North, and advised the citizens of the city, if they had a valuable dog to keep it in close surveillance, as it was dangerous for a common cur to run at large where it might chance to come in contact with a Yankee prisoner, as it would be instantly devoured by the ravens of the North. This was a petty insult to offer the Northern people, and more espe cially the unfortunate men who by the fortunes of war had been placed in their hands, and had become so nearly fam ished that they were compelled to eat anything that they could get to sustain life; and that, too, at the very seat of government in the Confederacy, under the vision of Jeff. Davis and the rebel Congress.
When we were captured we were all strong, healthy boys, who were used to have enough to eat. If Uncle Sam did not get it to us we indulged in a little foraging, and when we were confined hi prison and only allowed one very scanty meal a day, of coarse corn bread and a little diluted pea soup, we became as ravenous as a pack of hungry wolves. Had we been anywhere else than on an island it would have been almost impossible to restrain us. "Something to eat" was the all-absorbing topic in prison. Groups of men could be seen at any time telling what they would like to eat, or what they had at home or would have when they got there. We would talk of good things to eat all day, and be visited by tantalizing dreams of the same at night. I never slept, day

14

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

or night, for the first four months of my imprisonment, with out dreams of home and friends and something to eatr, only to wake and find myself in almost a starving condition.
Those of the prisoners who had not been robbed when cap tured had some money, with which they could buy some little extras, such as sweet potatoes, or an addition in quan tity of the same as given us. As our money was greenbacks, one would not suppose the rebels would take them in ex change for produce, but they not only did this, but gave us as high as ten or fiften dollars in Confederate scrip for a one dollar greenback. This showed how little faith they had in their ability to succeed in the cause they had espoused, or the confidence they had in their would-be Government to make its promises good in redeeming their money, .should they be successful in what has since proved to be a ""X-ost Cause."

CHAPTER IIL
RAW RATIONS AND A GREEN PINfr STICK -*- TTtBEZING AND STARVING THE CRAVING FOR TOBACCO- -A REBEL SERGEANTS GRUEL PASTIME.
AS there WHS a continual outlay in which there was no return^ our limited amount of money was soon ex hausted, and our already small rations steadily diminished until it seemed we were doomed to die of famine. This was made still more apparent by the influx of new prisoners, and the inadequacy of our culinary arrangements to supply cooked rations for the large number of prisoners on the Island.
Instead of enlarging the bakery and setting in more ket tles, that they might cook enough for all, they chose to issue raw rations to a part of the prisoners, which proved a disad vantage to us as we had no cooking utensils in which to pre pare our food, to make it wholesome. The raw rations given were stock peas and corn meal, and an occasional bit of bacon or salt beef. We received a small stick of green pine wood to each man. As this wood was unlike the pitch pine of the Carolinas, but of a sappy variety, it was only possible to make a fire with it by first making it into small splinters or shavings and tying them in bunches to season. Fires made of these shavings made more blaze than heat, and were consequently exhausted before our rations of peas were half cooked and we had to eat them raw, which caused
15

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FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

fearful cramps in the stomach, overtaxed the digestive or

gans and produced some bowel disorder which, together

with their already famished condition, would hasten the

prisoners to their graves.

1

"We would cook our peas as long as our wood supply held

i

out, then stir in meal and make mush, which made a dis-

i

tasteful mess, and when eaten would often cause nausea and

i

be cast up on the sand. I have often seen poor, starving

|

wretches take a stick or spoon and scrape up this revolting

i

mess and eat it!



5

Each starving hour seemed to tell on us the last few weeks

I

we were on Belle Isle. We had never had enough to satisfy

I

our appetites in the way of food, and this, with intensely

;

cold weather, caused such a draft on our vital powers that

j

they gave way under the dreadful strain, and hundreds died.

I

Others had their hands and feet frozen, and became so debil

itated otherwise that they were sent to the hospitals over in

1

Richmond. How they fared there I have been unable to

learn, as I never saw a single survivor of those places.

We thought we had sunk to the lowest depths of misery,

!

but, as our experience afterward showed us, it was well for

all that we could not look into the horrible future. Could

\

we have seen what was yet to come to us we would have

i

been roused to desperation, and made one grand effort to

j

effect our escape, or made an assault on our jailers and got

?

what little satisfaction we could, though our power be broken

j

and we finally fall by their hands.

There was one class among us that felt the keen sting of

privation far worse than the rest, and these were men who

had acquired the habit of using tobacco. Their craving for

(

this article became so great that they would give their last

|

morsel of food for a few crumbs or a small twist, that would

FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN EEBEL PRISONS.

17

last but a day. They would chew this till the last particle of strength of the tobacco was gone, then they would dry the old quid and smoke it. After witnessing these scenes, I was thankful that I had never made use of the weed, as I had no money and the only way I could have obtained it would have been like the rest, trade my much needed ra tions, which were barely sufficient to sustain life.
Although many a Virginian, during the first settlement of that State, came in possession of a wife by the sale of a few hundred pounds of the Indian weed, I do not now nor ever could see any good reason why the plant should have been cultivated and become one of the principal products of our country, as it is useless, expensive and obnoxious.
After my capture and during my confinement in prison, my mind reverted back to the time we had parted from home and loved ones, and the scenes of our departure for the seat of war. Boys yet in their teens had been given into the charge of the officers and older men by kind and loving parents, who required a pledge that they should be cared for, and not allowed to acquire immoral habits, or be ex posed to needless danger. And I will here state, as far as our officers were concerned, they, kept this pledge as strictly as lay in their power. But after we went South and were organized into regiments, brigades, divisions, etc., and placed under military discipline (and as there could be no half-way work), each boy took his musket, knapsack and accoutrements and took his place in line and filled the place of a man. I have seen these fall out on the march, over come with fatigue, and left by the wayside to care for them selves as best they could. Again, in the battle, others would be trampled down by riderless horses, or run over and ground to powder by artillery carriages, or later on, be COB-

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FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

fined in prison pen, cut off from all communication with friends and home, and, as it were, beyond-the last limits of civilization, in the hands of deadly enemies, and there starved and exposed till their pulses were cramped to still ness. And as the prayers of fathers and mothers were going up to heaven from far away Northern homes for the dear ones who had gone to battle for their country, the spirits of these brave boys for whom they prayed, mingling with their ascending prayers, took their flight from friends and earth forever.
On our arrival in Richmond our officers, who had been captured with us, were sent to Libby prison, where we were allowed to communicate with them by letter. This was a privilege we were truly thankful for, as there was a strong tie of friendship between officers and men. In prison, as well as in the army, the officers received two rations or twice as much as the men, yet I am informed by those who were there that the rations they reveived were still insuf ficient for their needs. Our officers were kept in Libby during our stay on the Island, but after we were sent away we heard nothing more of them, and I have never been in formed as to the mortality of our regimental officers.
As I said before, Lieut. Boisseaux was in command of the prisoners on the Island, but was very indifferent as to our welfare. He had several inhuman wretches under him whom he had put in charge of the interior of the prison, to call the roll and issue rations. Among these was Sergeant Hiatt, a big Baltimore pugilist, who, from the first sight, had become the dread and terror of the prisoners. What he could not think of in the way of torture, none but those of his character, who had longer experience, could. He tied men up by their thumbs, bucked and gagged others,

FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN REBEL PRISONS.
and made some carry a heavy sack of sand until they were unable to stand under the burden.
He had a still more cruel punishment, if possible. He would take some smooth planks and arrange them in the shape of a house roof, one end on the ground and the othei three or four feet high. He would then cover them with some slippery substance, which made them very slick, then take his victim, tie his hands behind him and compel him to try and ascend these slippery planks, which was impossible. The unfortunate one would be urged on by a rebel bayonet, only to have his feet slip from under him and fall with great force on his face, which would cause the blood to gush from nose, mouth and ears. This being repeated a few times, he would be released and turned over to his friends with his face in a terribly lacerated condition, only resembling a human being in body, his features being entirely obliterated. Had this villain been given into our hands, we would have ended his career in this world in short meter. But Ven geance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord."
Many a survivor of Belle Isle, upon reading this, will be reminded of those scenes, which were daily practiced on the prisoners. They will also remember the cruel wooden horse that scores of men were compelled to ride in the cold days of midwinter, with hands and feet tied, till they were as literally turned to cold human clay as Lots wife was to a pillar of salt.
The months of January and February had thinned our ranks. Several of our regiment had frozen to death, and others had been taken to Richmond sick, and yet there was another evil to betide us. The rebel doctors came over from Richmond and began to vaccinate us. After performing the operation on about 200? orders came to remove us off the

20

HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

Island, so the rest of the prisoners escaped inoculation. Many of those that were vaccinated lost their lives. Ser geant O. H. Smith, of my company, and now a resident of Clay Center, Kansas, lost his arm from the poisonous vac cne.

CHAPTER IV.
A GENERAL EXCHANGE OF PRISONERS ANNOUNCED--BITTER
DISAPPOINTMENT--TAKEN SOUTHWARD----ARRIVAL
AT THE ANDERSONVILLE STOCKADE.
ALONG through February a limited number of the sick were sent to City Point for exchange, and a like number of rebel sick brought back. About the middle of the month we were told that a general exchange of prisoners had been agreed upon, and we would soon be sent through to our lines. This was joyful news, as we had endured hard ships that it is impossible for my pen to describe.
Eight hundred men of the first squads were ordered to fall in and march out. All were so anxious to go that prisoners from other squads flanked in until there were several hundred more than could go; then they were counted and the flankers detected by calling the roll. The flankers were then formed in a separate line and marched back, and as they filed into the prison between two banks of sand, Sergeant Hiatt stood there with a polished club, about the size of an ordinary base ball club, and gave each prisoner a blow as he passed in,

FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN HEBEL PRISONS.

21

Several received blows that felled them to the ground, and they were carried in by their comrades in an unconscious state, from which some of them never recovered. This inci dent and several other similar ones, angered the prisoners to such an extent that they invited Hiatt over the bank, that there might be one rebel less. He was given to understand that, should they ever meet him on an equal footing, there would be a third-class corpse.
The next day there seemed to be more activity among the prisoners. All were talkative each one telling of his plans when he reached Uncle Sams lines. The third day came, and eight hundred more men were called out for exchange. This time only two flanked out, and they were so badly beaten that one died on the Island and the other was paroled with the sick, and is now a resident of Indianola, Iowa. He can thank Hiatt for pounding him, otherwise he might have died in Andersonville. Every day a squad was taken away, until finally came our time to go. We had no preparations to make, no tents to strike, no blankets to fold, nothing but to get up and travel. We marched out across the long bridge we had come in on, then across the long railroad bridge, below the Island, into Richmond. We were lodged in the Pemberton building, where we had a good view of the James River toward City Point, then the place of exchange. We watched very impatiently until darkness put an end t< our watching for the flag of our truce boat, that was to beai us away out of our captivity and deliver us to our friends. But no boat came.
We slept little that night, and when morning came wt were ordered down into the basement and given two days rations of corn bread and a cup of vegetable soup, then inarched out of the building and over across the bridge, put

22

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

aboard of a waiting train, and moved off toward Petersburg, thence southward. That night we reached Gaston, N. C., where we changed cars, and three of our boys made their escape, and after a perilous journey succeeded in reaching the Union lines. I would have been included in this squad, but was quite sick at the time and unable to travel, my stomach having reached a condition when it loathed the coarse corn bread. I had saved my rations of bread for five days, and when we arrived at Charlotte, K". C., we received a few crackers and a small ration of boiled beef. I now traded two rations of my corn pone for one of crackers, and these I could eat with good relish, which gave me better strength and kept me on my feet.
As we had now been running for several days toward the interior of the Confederacy, our hopes of exchange vanished. One of the prisoners on board of the train, who had been captured at Shiloh in 1862, and had been held at Macon for several months, thought perhaps they might be taking us there for safe keeping; but we finally reached Macon and only made a short stop, then moved on southward, and late in the night the train stopped and we were ordered off. There were great heaps of burning pitch pine, which lighted the place for rods in every direction. Here we were placed under a heavy guard and marched away.
In about a quarter of a mile we came to an immense stock ade, which contained great heavy doors or gates. These were thrown open and we were turned in, after which the gates were closed and bolted behind us. This was that infamous place known as the Andersonville (Ga.) Prison. We soon huddled down together to get a little sleep, tired, hungry, and almost heartsick to think we had been deceived, and now turned into another prison, perhaps to finish the work of

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24

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

starvation which had been so effectively begun on Belle Isle.

{

At the first dawn of day many of the boys were astir to

,

see what manner of place they were in. Others lay bunched

up and slept till the sun was shedding its rays through the

;

tall pines, whose massive trunks towered up like great giants

!

of an immense forest, and their scraggy tops looked like

|

they had seen the frosts of many centuries. Here we found

>

the other prisoners that had been sent off the Island, who

j

also had been deceived as to the exchange. These were not

1

recognizable, their faces and hands being as black and sleek

\

as a native Africans. This was caused by hovering over

1

fires made of pitch pine knots, which emitted smoke as black

I

as that from tar, and when it touched anything it would

}

glaze it over with a glossy jet. This could not be removed

i

by water without the aid of soap, which seemed so scarce in

I

the Confederacy that it was considered an article of luxury.

It was but a day or so before we were polished over, too,

\

and all looked like so many Guinea negroes. Age or com-

j

plexion made no distinction. The hair and clothing received

a coating, and we all looked like we belonged to the same

family, and in heart we did.

Our new camp was on two steep hillsides, facing each

i

other, at the base of which was a great quagmire, several

rods wide, extending across the prison. The high ground

was covered with stumps and brush, from which had been

taken the timber to build the prison wall. The swamp in

the center was covered with vines, briers, <etc. This was

ditched through the center, and drained the sides, which

?

formed a small, narrow, shallow stream, which was very



sluggish on account of the small supply of water and the

;

slight descent of the ground. This little creek was our only

I

water supply, and when we would go after water we would

1

FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN REBEL PRISONS.

25

often sink to our hips in the mire, and men would often have to be dragged out by their comrades.
The stockade was built with great logs, hewed square and set on end in the ground, forming a smooth surface 18 or 20 feet high, which was unscalable. Eude staircases were built on the outside, at short intervals, for the guards to ascend, over which were placed sentry boxes. There were 42 of these around the stockade, where the guard could stand or sit and view the whole interior of the prison. There were two large double gates, made very strong, one on each side of the swamp in the west side of the enclosure. Andersonville prison was simply a notch cut out of almost a boundless forest, as far as could be seen. The country around on the highlands was thickly studded with a giant growth of lofty pitch pine timber, with limbless bodies and a little bushy top, while the swampy lands were covered with a jungle, like a growth of live oak and holly, intermingled with all manner of running vines, and impenetrable for man or beast, but, like the jungles of Africa, formed a complete shelter and pro tection for various species of living wild animals and abounded with venomous snakes, and multitudes of minor crawling, creeping things.
The foliage in these places was so dense that the suns rays could not penetrate it, thus causing the most poisonous, deadly malaria, which at times afflicted the whole surround ing country, and carried off the inhabitants like the visitation of some pestilence. I had read somewhere in some book of the great Dismal Swamp of North Carolina, and, although aware that we were somewhere in Georgia, I could hardly persuade myself that we were not in that dreadful place, or that there were other and still deadlier spots hitherto unheard
It was enough to make the strongest among us become

26

FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN &E&EL P&I80NS.

homesick or die of horror. If there is another as ^smal a place on this greeii earth, I want to be forever f Hs presence.

CHAPTER V.
LOCALITY----CAMP DETAILS AT ANDERSON-
VILLE----A PROFICIENT IN PROFANITY--FAIR RATIONS,
BUT NO WAY TO COOS THEM.
8
FOR my life I cannot see ~7hy the white inhabitants were not removed from this loathsome country and placed west of the great Mississippi, in that beautiful territory known as the Indian Xation, between Kansas and Texas, and the Indians left in lower Georgia to roam at will through the dense forests and jungles of the land of their birth. For myself, how much rather would I be placed on the beau tiful, rolling prairies of the West as a hired servant than to be a real estate king in that portion of the State of Georgia.
The inhabitants of that section of country were tall, gaunt, and lean as the starved soil. They were sun-burned and swarthy, with long hair which hung down to their shoulders, and long, scraggy, unshaven beard, which gave them the appearance of a wild, uncivilized race of men ; and they corresponded well with their unenviable surround ings, being as ignorant as they were poor. I could not help looking on them with an eye of pity, to think that they were descendants of the same race that we were, raised under the same Government and flag, and, through ignor-

FIVE HUNDRED DA YS IN REBEL PRISONS.
ance and prejudice, were rebels and traitors to their country, and the flag which their Revolutionary fathers had waded in human gore to hoist aloft between them and heaven, as the emblem of liberty. Little did they know or appreciate the sacrifices made for them, and still less did they under stand what the Union soldiers were doing in their behalf, though battling on the opposite side. They did not realize that the success of the Union arms was a " Georgia Crack ers " victory, inasmuch as it would wipe out the institution of slavery, break the power of the aristocrat, conquer re bellion, and put an everlasting veto to State Sovereignty, and in their stead substitute free public schools, wholesome laws, an undivided country, and one flag.
There were from fifteen to eighteen acres enclosed for our occupation, but as the swamp took up about four acres this cut the tenable ground down to about twelve or thirteen acres. We were arranged into hundreds and thousands, called hundreds, or detachments and divisions, with a Ser geant in charge of each; also one at the head of each mess of twenty men for the purpose of drawing and issuing rations. The first arrivals were assigned the south hillside, between the swamp and the stockade, which contained about six acres, leaving an alley running across the prison from the south gate to the stockade at the east side. Each divi sion fronted this alley and extended back to the stockade or down to the swamp, each hundred by itself, so as to form a line for roll call or drawing rations.
After organizing our squads and taking up our little patch of Georgia sand, and talking over our situation as to the betterment of our condition in comparison with Belle Isle, it was announced that rations were being issued to the first detachments. As we were all anxious to know how

28

FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN REBEL PRISONS.

the Georgia people were going to feed us, we crowded up close to the gate where the grub was being hauled in, till it became so jammed that a wagon could not pass in or out. It became necessary to clear a passway, and in order to do this the rebels sent in a squad of armed soldiers.
"When our number was called the Sergeants made a detail of a few men to help receive the rations from the wagon. One would have thought the whole division had been sum moned as a detail, for they all marched up as one man and surrounded the ration wagon and did not allow room for the distribution of the grub. This aroused the wrath of our landlord, who heaped curses upon us in such regular order that one would think he had learned to swear by note. I never since have met the man who could use as many bad words in the same length of time as he could. I had heard of people picking out all the good ones and using tnem in argument, but I never before heard such a collection of bad ones.
Our first rations consisted of coin meal, stock peas and beef a pint of meal, a couple of spoonsful of peas, and about two ounces of beef to each man. We were put to our wits end to know how to receive our rations. We had no vessels except our little coffee cans, and many did not have even these. Some would draw in their hats, mixing meal, peas and beef all together; others would tear out a shirt sleeve, tie a string around one end, and draw in it, and others still would draw theirs in a corner of their blouse.
After rations were drawn there came the cooking, which was a more difficult task than ever. Our vessels were full and had to be emptied. For this purpose coats, blankets and shirts were spread out on the ground and our allowance poured out on these. In some instances four, five or half a

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

21>

dozen would join together and make a common stock of theirs, and cook and eat together. But the more desirable plan was to keep all separate, as each wanted all that be longed to him, and there was such a diversity of opinion as to the best mode of cooking to make our grub go the fur thest. Some would bake a pone or ash cake and boil peas and beef together; others would boil their peas and beef, then thicken with meal, and still another plan was to boil peas and beef, and wet up their meal with cold water and roll into little dumplings, little larger than marbles, and when the peas were sufficiently done these were put in and boiled.
Although our rations were very limited, yet we had quite a variety of dishes. Very many of us having nothing to cook in, had to wait until others were through with their vessels, and had eaten the contents from the same vessel in which it had been cooked, as they had no way of emptying it. This was a slow process, as the meal and peas cooked together would remain hot for a considerable length of time, thus keeping No. 2 waiting with the keen gnawings of hun ger, and in many cases Nos. 3 and 4 waiting to use the same little can. This made it late in the night before some had their supper cooked and eaten, and very often this only half cooked. Still others, too hungry to wait, would wet up their meal into thick dough and bake in the ashes, which often caused a loss of all or nearly all of their rations of bread, and that which was not wasted was covered with ashes and sand to such an extent that none but a starving man could swallow it. Some ate their peas raw, while others roasted them as one would peanuts. Our first rations in Andersonville were an improvement on Belle Isle, had we only been given utensils to cook them in. ?fee lack of these

30

FIVE

HUNDRED

DAYS

IN

EEBEL

PRISONS. *

caused dozens of poor boys to lie down on the cold, bare

sand that night as hungry as when they were turned into the

stockade the previous night, to dream of friends, and of

tables spread with rich edibles from the bountiful stores of

their far away Northern homes, only to awaken again and

experience a repetition of what had happened the day before.

This would be continued weary days, weeks and months,

until their wasted bodies would be carried out by their com

rades to be interred in a long, shallow trench, unshrouded,

uncoffined, and without a stone or slab to mark their lart

resting place.

CHAPTER VI.
MILITARY PERSONNEL OF ANDERSONVILLE PRISON----WINDEB
AND WIRZ----REBEL SOLDIERS ON DUTY----BATTERIES
AND BLOODHOUNDS.
N OW a few words of biography of the commandants of Andersonville. Major-General John H. Winder was Commissary General of Prisoners of War, and exterior commandant of Anderson ville Prison (called Camp Sumpter by the rebel authorities). He was a Marylander by birth, if my information be correct, and the only claim he had to rank or title was that he be-* longed to one of the first families of that State, who had for generations been associated with the slave-holding aristocracy of the South, and for this distinction his incompetent sire had

FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN REBEL PRISONS.

31

been commissioned Brigadier-General in the armies of the

United States miring the war of 1812, and whose cowardice

!

caused this country the loss of the national capital. The son,

j

unlike the father in this respect, solicited no command in the

field, preferring to remain far in the rear of the rebel army,

in the utmost security, and act as a full court of inquisition

that he might punish his detested enemies at his own pleas

ure without fear of retaliation.

He never did a solitary act during the war to entitle his

name to honorable mention, or even in print beside that of

many of his inferiors who had won a name on the battlefield

for heroic deeds of bravery. On the other hand, he acquired

the most infamous reputation of any man in the history of

any civilized nation on the face of the globe. When recom

mended by rebel physicians to relieve the prisoners of their

extremely crowded condition, it was he who, without remorse

of conscience, could say: "Let them alone in their present

condition and there will soon be room sufficient for all." He

is further entitled to the credit of saying that he was doing

more for the Southern cause than a score of regiments in

Lees or Hoods armies. Upon this man the Union soldiers

who were prisoners of war in the South had to depend for

sustenance. With these facts before the reader, he can well

judge of the terrible results which were to follow.

The next character approaching that of old Winder in vile-

ness, and deserving special mention in this narrative, as one

of the appointees of Jeff. Davis to a favorite position, is that

of Capt. Henri Wirz, the interior commandant of the prison.

He was born in Switzerland, and was therefore only an

adopted son of treason to the American flag, and a fit subject

to do the bidding of traitors of much larger mental caliber,

who vied with each other to see who could destroy the lives

32

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

of the most of the loyal youth of the North, whom the for tunes of war had placed at their mercy. Judging this man by his appearance, one would be impressed with the opinion that he had just emerged from behind the bar of a third-class saloon in the slums of some city, as he was dressed more like a bartender or steamboat cook than like a soldier. He wore a long calico gown, and around his waist a leather belt with "C. S. A." in large letters, hi which was placed a large dirk knife and a pair of pistols. He wore a loose fitting pair of gray pants, a heavy-soled pair of cowhide shoes, and a tight gray skull cap with a long bill or fore piece. Thin, shaggy beard, tinged with gray, hid his features, and gave him a very unsoldierlike appearance.
This man Wirz had been tried as a commandant of differ ent prisons in Eichmond, and had not been found wanting in ability to punish and maltreat defenseless prisoners. He began his career with a Sergeants rank, and as he issued orders that a non-commissioned officer could not enforce, in regard to moving prisoners from one pen to a worse one, for punishment, for the sake of giving him authority he was pro moted to a Captaincy, so he could wreak out his vengeance which had been so long pent up. Nor was he long in mak ing his new rank known and his authority felt. At the first provocation, whether real or imaginary, he ordered a squad out and then aboard a train, and sent them to New Orleans, where they were placed in buildings that had been emptied by the ravages of yellow fever. They were kept there until many died of the malady, when the Mayor of the city ordered that they be removed out of the infected district and placed in more healthy quarters, or removed from the city altogether. The latter order was obeyed, and thereby saved tihe lives of a small per cent, of this hapless Uttle

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN EEBEL PRISONS.

88

The soldiers on duty at the prison as guards were the 26th Alabama and several companies of Georgia Home Guards, or State militia. Col. Sanders commanded the 26th, while Col. Iverson had charge of the militia. In addition to these were three six-gun batteries, placed in such position as to rake the interior of the prison diagonally from one slope of the hill on the outside to the opposite on the inside. There was also a battalion or two of cavalry, and what was still more for midable, a large pack of bloodhounds, which consisted of two enormous Cuban bloodhounds, said to be the best scented dogs in the world, and about 40 half-bloods These were used before the war for hunting down runaway slaves, and now they were kept to scent out and bring to bay Yankee prisoners, should any be lucky enough to get beyond the prison limits.
Each day there was an addition to our numbers by arrivals from the old prisons in Richmond and Belle Isle, till there were five or six thousand by the first of Marels au4 reminded us of our crowded condition on Bell*

NERO AND SPOZ

CHAPTEE VII.

ATTEMPT AT ESCAPE FUEL AND RATIONS DIMINISHING THE RAINY SEASON IN THE DEPTH OF MISERY TWENTY DEATHS PER DAY.

THE prisoners huddled close up to the stockade at night, as it afforded some protection from the chilly air, when

some one conceived the idea of undermining it, and then

,

with a rush they could push it over. A plan was matured

by the men to try and escape in this way, and all things ar

ranged to carry it into effect, but in some way the rebels dis

covered the plot and established a " dead line " twenty feet

A inside the stockade, by driving down little posts three feet

high and nailing a narrow strip of board on the top. Then

orders were read to the prisoners to the effect that if any

one went inside the dead line the guard would fire without

warning. This still made our limits smaller, and made us

uncomfortably close neighbors, so much so that when we lay

down at night it was almost impossible to pass through the

sleepers to the creek, or to attend to other necessary duties.

It was but a day or two till some one forgot the orders, or

*' by accident got over the dead line and was shot. Later on

this became almost a daily occurrence.

When we entered the prison the ground was covered with

*" the debris of the fallen timber which had been cut out to

build up the stockade. It had furnished us fuel up to this

time, for cooking and fire to warm by, but the supply had
85

36

FIVE HUNDRED DATS 1 REBEL PRISONS.

become exhausted save the stumps, and these were being dug

up to olear the ground and keep up our wood supply. As

our numbers increased the demand for wood became greater,

and it was but a very short time till there was not enough

wood of any kind to build a fire in a common heating stove.

The vines in the swamp were attacked and dug up, and the

roots followed as long as one could get a piece as large as a

lead pencil. The land was so thoroughly cleared that it re

sembled a Missouri Kiver sand bar.

After our wood supply was exhausted, small squads were

allowed to pass out under guard and pick up such down

wood as they could find, which was still insufficient for our

needs. When a comrade died we would carry him out, and

on our return bring in all the wood or brush we could carry.

For this purpose men went about hunting up the dead, that

they might pass out and get a glimpse of the country out

side, get a breath of wholesome air, and replenish their

slender stock of fuel.

As the prison was continually being filled with those from

other places, the rations gradually diminished. A small

pint of meal would be issued to each man and the peas,

beef, or small bit of bacon would be given on each alternate

day. We now thought we were getting down to bed rock

in the grub line, but there were still other unforeseen mis

eries in store for us. The rainy season, so prevalent in the

South in early spring, had set in. Great turbulent clouds

gathered above and burst forth in angry violence, sending

,*

down sheets of water, literally soaking the wretched inmates

of the prison, and flooding the bare hillsides on which we

had to lie till small rivulets were formed. These coursed

down and swelled the little branch in the center to a con

siderable stream. This continued for long dreary days and

FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN REBEL PRISONS.

37

weeks, in which the sun scarcely shed its rays long enough to dry our thin garments, or give the poor boys a glimmer of hope as to the end of the terrible drenching flood. We Were without shelter and had to lie on the bare ground and receive the great, cold rain-drops as they beat against our chilled bodies, benumbed limbs and bare heads, without blankets to cover us or to lie on, or fire to warm by.
Our condition had now become most lamentable. Men lay bunched up in heaps to keep from chilling to death, and were compelled to eat their rations raw, as the guards would not turn out to escort us after wood. This terrible strain on the already wasted bodies of the prisoners sowed the seed of disease which caused a great part of the fearful mortality that followed. Long ere the three weeks of almost contin ual dripping of the cold rain, from the lowering clouds, had ceased, many a brave boy had succumbed to the chill that cramped his heart to stillness.
The cold rains at Andersonville in March and April seemed to be more fatal to life than the bleak, freezing weather had been the previous winter on Belle Isle. During the coldest spells on the island we could exercise ourselves and keep from freezing, and when tired out could huddle up to each other and get a little sleep and rest; but the cold rains would not allow us to sleep, night nor day, and mov ing around in the air in our wet garments afforded us little or no relief. When we lay down the water settled around us, and that and the washing flow from above seemed almost to penetrate our veins and mingle with our lifes blood.
After our rainy season there was a visible change in the appearance of the prisoners. They had run down in flesh, and seemed to droop in spirits. As our very scanty rations were poorly calculated to build us up, we naturally inclined

FIVE

DAYS IN REBEL PRISONS.

the other way, ,?ftd the mortality increased until, through the entire month of April, the deaths averaged twenty per day.
The rebel doctors had arranged a hospital outside, where they could treat the worst cases of the sick. This was erected by setting posts or forks in the ground and putting on poles or brush, which simply made a shade to protect the sick from the scorching rays of the sun. In this were placed bunks, made of small poles and covered with pine boughs. Each morning, at 9 oclock, a lone drummer ap peared at the south gate and beat " sick call," when the worst cases of sick would be carried up and examined by two attending physicians, a few of which would be admitted to the hospital and the rest returned to their respective divis ions. The same drummer thumped away each morning to summon the camp to deliver up its dead. These would be carried to the same south gate, passed outside and placed in a long row, there to await the six-mule team that was to bear them away to their last resting place, which was a long trench, six feet wide by two feet deep, and long enough to contain one hundred bodies. These would be placed in crosswise, and covered by digging another trench parallel with the one last filled.
In the afternoon our drummer would put in an appearance and play "grub call," which, unlike the morning summons, would elicit a cheer from nearly every throat of the six thousand inmates, making the old prison resound, and the same six-mule team and wagon that had hauled away the dead would come in with our rations, which would often be contaminated by the excrement from the dead, and was ex tremely offensive even to famishing men.
As spring advanced the water in the creek began to gel

HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

39

bad, from the wash of the recent rains and the seepage of the swamp. At midday it would be lukewarm, and served a poor purpose in quenching thirst. Men would go to the creek and gorge themselves with water, then crawl out on the sand in the hot sun, and, while in this condition, almost famish for a cool drink of pure, wholesome water.

CHAPTER VIIL
DIGGING WELLS WITH HALF-CANTEENS AND OLD BOOTS--
PLANNING ESCAPE----PRISONERS TORTURED----THE
PLAGUE OF FLIES.
craving for good water became so intense that the JL prisoners began digging wells along the base of the hill, near the edge of the swamp. Here much better water was found, and encouraged by their success, others began sinking wells on higher ground, with varied success. The digging was earned on in a very slow and tedious manner, as we had nothing but half-canteens or other rude little tools of our own invention to dig with, and the dirt had to be hauled up in old boots or trouser legs, with ropes made of strips of blankets, shirts or other clothing, and once com pleted, a boot leg would be used as a bucket by putting in a wooden bottom. These wells served our purpose for awhile, but as the soil was quite sandy, the walls soon caved in, and then we had to depend on the creek again.

40

FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN ttfiBtiL

While this well digging was going on, some of the most energetic of the boys concluded to try to make their escape by starting a well near the dead line, then from this tunnel out under the stockade, go out after night and take to the swamp to evade the bloodhounds, and thereby try and reach the Union lines. In view of the fact that it was several hun dred miles to the nearest point which our army held, and the whole distance lay through nearly a trackless wilderness, with a number of unfordable streams and vast swamps to cross, it was a most perilous undertaking; but many were willing to brave the dangers, and to this end they toiled long and hard, only to be returned to the prison after their egress through these tunnels, chawed and lacerated by a pack of bloodhounds. Of the many who saw the outside of Andersonville, through their own deserving plans, not one ever made his escape to my knowledge, but each was invariably brought back by the master of the hounds, and afterward suf fered terrible punishment for the attempt to gain his freedom, a right conceded even to criminals.
The rebels used various modes of punishment for these offenders. Soine were placed in a machine known as the "stocks," and used before the war to punish slaves. They would have their feet and hands made fast, a stick tied in the mouth and the head inclined slightly back, and in this position, without being able to move a muscle, they were placed in the hot sun and remained until they were almost paralyzed. When released they were unable to walk, and their limbs would have to be rubbed to life by their com rades.
Another contrivance was a small log, perhaps six inches in diameter, with long legs attached after the fashion of a sawhorse, and about four feet high. The victim would be placed

HUNDRED PATS IN REBEL PRISONS. 41
astride of this, his hands fastened behind him, his feet tied together underneath, and gagged by tying a stick in the mouth. As it was difficult to keep in balance in this posi tion, without the use of hands and feet, the poor fellows would often slide around the pole and hang head downward, the feet being securely tied. Still another plan was to fasten an iron band around the ankle to which was attached a heavy cannon ball and chain. This seemed to be the favorite mode of punishment with the rebels, the "chain gang," as they called it, being a continual thing. I believe as many as sixty men were chained together at one time, and, as all had to move when one did, these were kept in almost constant mo tion in order to attend the* necessary calls. The ankles, around which were fastened the iron bands, would become a raw sore, by having to drag the ball and chain, and in many instances flies would get in and blow them. In a short time they would be filled with maggots, and later be afflicted with gangrene, which necessitated amputation, and finally resulted in death.

CHAPTEE IX.

TREAT CAMPAIGN OF 1864----THIRTY THOUSAND PRISONERS

AT ANDEBSONVILLE----DIED OF STARVATION----

LOATHSOME QUARTERS.
AS the early spring of 1864 approached, there had been

a new plan adopted at Washington for the coming

5

campaign, which was to break the power of the Confederacy.

|

For a long time Grants theory had been that the armies of

I

the Potomac, Tennessee, Cumberland and Trans-Mississippi

I

should act in concert, instead of operating independently of

I

each other, and the many reverses we had suffered proved

i;

this theory to be correct. As Grant was now in command

jj

of all the armies of the United States, with headquarters in

3

the field, all were anxious to know what disposition he would

j;

make and what would be his first move.

!

At last the time had come for the great campaign of 1864.

*

On the 3d of May the Army of the Potomac commenced its

]

movement from the Kapidan. and on the 5th came upon the

<

Army of Northern Virginia at the Wilderness, and opened

f

the first and fiercest of the long series of battles destined to

break the power of Lee, and result in the surrender of his -,

army at Appomattox. On May 5th Sherman makes a for

ward movement, concentrates his army for the Atlanta cam

paign, and moves against Johnston at Dalton, while Sigel is

,

at Winchester and ordered to cooperate with others in their

movements against Richmond.
42

FIVE ffUNDREb JAYS IN REBEL PRISONS.

43

As all the northern armies had been set in motion at one given time, and were confronted by a powerful Confederate army, strongly entrenched, the loss in prisoners was destined to be heavier than in any previous campaign. Andersonville, at this time, being the most distant prison from the Union forces, it was of course considered the most secure place to hold their captives, and consequently received its full quota. First, a squad taken in the Wilderness was turned in among us; then, in quick succession, from Sigel and Butler, also others from Sherman<>s column, until by the last of May our number had been trebled, which probably now amounted to 20,000 souls, or about ten men to the square rod of tenable ground in the prison limits.
Our quarters had become most horribly filthy, and each addition to the number increased our wretchedness. We had now become so crowded that it was impossible for us to do our own cooking, and a cook house was built outside, at the edge of the creek on the west side where it entered the stock ade. Our meal was baked into bread and we received about the same amount we had been given at Belle Isle, with occa sionally a small bit of meat.
On the 23d of May the first man of my company died, C. B. BARTSHE, of Rossville, Iowa. He had been my bunkmate since our capture, and I believe he died of starvation alone. He was a big, strong young man, and required more food than some. He seemed to weaken down gradually, until one niO ght I awoke and found him dead,' with his arm lying across me as when we lay down. I brushed back his matted hair, felt to see if he had any pulse, then lay down beside him until morning. When dead-call sounded we car ried him to the gate, pinned a slip of paper to his shirt bear ing his name, company and regiment, tied his toes together,

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.
wrapped his tattered garments about him, then took our last look at one we loved as a brother. Poor Bartshes place in our mess was filled by one of the 4th Minnesota, who in turn became my bunk-mate.
Our crowded condition, and with no possible means of washing our clothing, allowed of the accumulation of multi tudes of lice. They literally filled the sand on which we lay, and at night they would crawl over us in such numbers that it was almost impossible for us to sleep. We took off our rags and killed all we could find each day, only to be stocked again with as many more. The camp had become filthy be yond description. The accumulated filth in the swamp on each side of the creek was a rotting mass of corruption, which was filled with crawling maggots. They crawled out on the side hills where, in the sun. they would be transformed into a fly. which swarmed over us until the air was black with them, and in nearly every mouthful of bread given us could be found these loathsome flies.
The reader can have a better comprehension of our situa tion by reading the 8th chapter of the book of Exodus, where the Lord sent the ten plagues on Pharaoh * and Egypt, for not allowing Moses and the Israelites to depart therefrom. Had these been sent in like numbers on old Winder, instead of the prisoners, we would have thought that the Lord was interposing in our behalf; and had these been sent on him we would most assuredly have been allowed to take our depar ture.
In June our numbers had been increased to nearly 30j 000, and in this packed condition, with the sun at its zenith shed ding its almost vertical rays down on us, it was evident that our miseries w^ere soon to be multiplied. The mortality was rapidly increasing. Several of my regiment had died, and

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

45

others were helplessly sick. Our clothing was giving out until many were nearly nude. My faithful old army shoes had become things of the past, my shirt dropped off a piece at a time until it disappeared, my hat was worn out and had been added to the rubbish of the accumulating filth, my blouse sleeves were worn off to the shoulders and my pants worn off to the knees. We were now a sweltering mass of humanity, with almost a tropical sun above us, sending its scorching rays down upon our uncovered heads, causing great, watery blisters to raise on our faces, arms and hands, and heating the sand until it would almost blister the soles of our bare feet. The high stockade and the dense forest surround ing it shut out all circulation of air, while the offensive odors arising from the rotting hills and the foul swamp in the cen ter, seemed to reach to heaven and cry for vengeance.

CHAPTER X.
AFFLICTED WITH SCURVY--FORTY DEATHS PER DAY--MUSH
AND RAW MEAL----"RAIDER CROWDS 5'----HANGING

THE ROUGHS----A GOOD CATHOLIC PRIEST.
M ANY of the old prisoners had now become afflicted with scurvy, on account of having been confined so long on one kind of food. This came in two forms. One would appear in the mouth, causing the gums to swell, and in a short time they would be so distended as to entirely cover the teeth, and have to be cut away with a knife or

46

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

pinched off with the finger nails, and resembled putrid flesh. The teeth would also become loose and would fall out while eating, causing the blood to eject from the mouth, and giv ing the afflicted one considerable pain and annoyance. An other form would first appear in the feet, causing them to swell to the utmost extent the skin would bear, turn to a spotted, purple color, and become almost lifeless. This would gradually extend upward causing a contraction of the cords, drawing the leg below the Knee up to right angles with the body. As this disease passed from the mouth to the stomach, or from the legs to the body, it invariably proved fatal. Thousands were now afflicted with this dread ful malady, scores of whom were daily carried out and placed beside their kindred dead, to help make up the aver age of forty deaths per day for the month of June.
As there were continual additions to our numbers our cooks could not bake bread for all, and large kettles were placed in the cook house and mush made for and issued to a part of the prisoners. They would fill these kettles about three-fourths full of water, and while one would stir with a great paddle another would dump in a fifty-pound sack of meal at a time, which would form in lumps as big as a quart cup, the inside of which would be dry, uncooked meal. This was hauled in a wagon-bed and measured in a large box to the respective divisions, giving each man something over a pint of mush. This would be scooped out on blankets made of old coats, shirts, and pieces of canvas sewed to gether, and while thus spread on these would become pol luted by the multitudes of lice that filled the sand and the myriads of maggot-flies that swarmed overhead.
As more prisoners came in they could not supply all with either bread or mush, and had to issue meal without any

FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN EEBEL PRISONS.

47

wood to cook it. This compelled the prisoners to mix the meal with water and eat it raw. As the meal had been ground on rude burrs or cast iron horse mills, it was sharp and coarse, and having the hull yet on, caused irritation of the stomach and resulted in different bowel disorders that killed more men than died from any other cause in Andersonville. By this time our small ration of meat had taken its flight and gone. It was sadly missed as it contained a little salt, and answered as seasoning, and gave us a better relish for our unsalted bread or mush.
Among the prisoners captured from Butlers command were a good many from Eastern cities who had enlisted for big bounties, or were bought for substitutes, and who cared nothing for anything but their own welfare. They formed themselves into a band and would go through the camp rob bing, and even murdering helpless or sleeping men for arti cles of clothing or rations. This was carried on to such an extent that the prisoners had to rise in their might and over come them. They were called the " Raider Crowds," and a worse set of roughs I never saw. They were arrested, court-martialed, and punished in various ways. Six of the ringleaders were sentenced to be hung, and the llth of July was the day set for the execution. A rude scaffold was erected in the southwest part of the prison, by a sailor known as "Limber Jim," who superintended the hanging, and six other assistant hangmen. A large number of "Reg ulators " acted as guards for the executioners, as the raiders had become numerous and threatened to release the con demned. *
At this time the excitement had become intense. The whole camp was standing erect; the rebel gunners were at their guns, which were double-shotted with canister; the

48

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

V

" long-roll" beat outside, and the infantry occupied the rifle-

pits. A squad of cavalry was drawn up in line in the rear, and near these the master and hounds were placed in line

;

with the other rebels. By this time Wirz imagined that

there was going to be a break made on the stockade, and

shouted to the artillerymen to fire, but luckily for us the

;

men who manned the guns had more sense than old Wirz.

|

But as some of the prisoners heard the order to fire, they



became excited, and a regular stampede followed. Men were

knocked down, trampled on and kicked and bruised up hi a

fearful shape. It was the stormiest time one ever saw.

After hanging until life was extinct the bodies were cut

i

down, carried outside and buried in graves separate from

those who had died. The hanging of the leaders of the

raiders intimidated the rest, and put a stop to any further

]

crime. A large police force was organized, and kept up

'-

during the remainder of our stay in prison. A court of in-

;

quiry was instituted, and when any one was charged with

*

theft the accused and accuser were brought up and the mat-

j

ter settled. If the man was found guilty, he was sentenced

I

to be spanked, or receive a certain number of lashes on the

bare back. This seemed cruel, but it was just, as the strong

j

always preyed off the weak.

!

Father Whelan, a Catholic priest, from Savannah, came

in and spoke words of cheer to the condemned, and prayed

for the forgiveness of their crimes. This lone priest was the only minister of the gospel that ever came in prison to speak *-*

a kind word, or set aright our misguided souls. He made

regular visits to the prison, consoled the dying, and anointed

the dead of his faith. Too much praise cannot be accorded

.

this reverend gentleman for trying to turn sinners to Christ;

I$
y

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

40

but in the last day heaven will cry out for vengeance on ministers of other denominations for their indifference toward their kindred confined in prison.

CHAPTER XI.
ENLARGING THE STOCKADE ABJECT MISERY ULST SURVIVOR
OP THE MESS OF TWENTY BRAVE WELTVER's
SAD AND PITIABLE DEATH.
several days there had been quite a number of slave JT laborers at work north of the stockade, felling timber to enlarge the prison limits, which was completed and ready to move into by the first of the month. This addition gave us about twenty acres instead of the thirteen we had been occupying. When the announcement was made that "a breach had been effected in the stockade between the old and the new, the men went through like a flock of sheep and com menced collecting wood, sticks and brush to build shade with. New squads just arrived were assigned a portion of the new addition, and a few of the old detachments were given quar ters here. The old stockade through the center was soon undermined, pushed down and worked up, making a few comfortable huts and furnishing others with a small supply of fuel.
Those who were allotted the new portion had a great ad vantage over the rest of us. The ground was not yet infested

60

FIVE HUNDRED DA YS IN REBEL PRISONS.

with vermin. It was higher and overlooked the balance of the inclosure, and did not receive the drainage from the roll ing ground of the old camp, and seemed to afford a more wholesome atmosphere. Those of us remaining in the old prison could realize that we were sinking to a lower depth of misery each passing day. At least half of those in the stockade were sick, and thousands were unable to move from where they lay, most of whom were in the old squads thai had been there the longest. The lice, flies and maggot? seemed to increase two-fold daily. The lice filled the filthy rags of the sick and dying, and crawled up the bare limbs oi the living until these alone became almost unbearable. The great blue flies swarmed by the million over us, and blowed the eyes, nose and mouth of the sick, which would soor hatch and these organs would become infested with the wrig gling larvae, admitting of no rest by day. When the sun sank behind the tall pines in the west, and at twilight whei? the flies had settled down for the night, all would try and get some rest, and the sick would be allowed a little respite; but as darkness settled around us, great clouds of mosquitoes and gallinippers would swarm in and claim their share of the spoils of human flesh. These would have to be fought the livelong night to keep them from sucking our very life blood, of which we had none to spare, and would only disappear when the sun began to singe them in the morning. As they gradually gave way under the scorching heat, the dreaded myriads of flies were putting in their work of annoyance again. Thus, night and day for dreary weeks, lengthening into long months, we were continually annoyed by the lice, maggots, flies and mosquitoes until our aggravations in this respect became almost beyond endurance.

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

51

Each day seemed to get hotter than the preceding one. and in our crowded condition suffocation seemed inevitable. Not one breath of wholesome air could be had in that stink ing place. The scorching sun fairly singed, and made every living thing wince under its vertical rays. Many of our hundred had died and their places been filled by members of the lllth New York. Sammy Hull, a little Sergeant of this regiment, was given charge of the hundred ; and as a speci men of the deplorable situation of our Belle Isle and Rich mond prisoners, who had now seen several months imprison ment, I will give the condition of the old members of my mess of twenty. Ten were yet living, and two others who were captured in May, had been added after our arrival in the spring.
First, Isaac and David Loudenbeck, Co. B, 5th Iowa. They were now in the last stages of rotting scurvy. Their flesh had entirely wasted away, leaving the skin shriveled and calloused on the bone, except on the feet and legs, and this was puffed full of watery matter, which oozed out through fractures in the skin, and was very offensive to the smell. Their bony faces, sunken eyes and thin lips, closing over toothless mouths, gave them a sickening appearance. The following is the number of their graves: Isaac Louden beck, No. 9,438; David Loudenbeck, No. 10.221.
Next to them lay Sergeant James "W. Cowles, of my com pany K, 5th Iowa, in the last stages of scurvy, with great running sores as large as a persons hand on his body, which left bare the ribs on his left side. His left arm, from elbow to shoulder, was without a particle of flesh on it. caused by poisonous vaccine while at Belle Isle.
Next me lay Daniel Bixler, Co. B. 5th Iowa, who was afflicted with scurvy and gangrene sores on his feet and legs.

52

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REPEL PRISONS.

Where the sun had blistered them they had become running sores and were filled with wriggling larvae, deposited there by the hideous maggot fly. No. of his grave, 9,846.
Just a few feet away were four more of my company: Matthew F. Sparks, Albert T. Weliver, Job M. Field and William Tippery, all four slowly dying of diarrhoea and scurvy.
Sergt. Oliver H. Smith and Sergt. Chas. E. Walrath had each an arm amputated from the effects of poisonous vaccine while at Belle Isle, and had been taken to the hospital out side, where, later, Walrath died and Smith was paroled with the sick. With me were two of the 4th Minnesota, Grant and Kelly, both middle-aged men, who had the diarrhoea and had wasted away until they were merely living skeletons. I, too, was afflicted with scurvy until my feet, ankles and knees swelled almost to bursting, and turned to a purple color. I could place a thumb or finger on my foot or leg and press in an inch, which dent would remain twenty-four hours.
All the above, except Oliver H. Smith, died in the follow ing six weeks, leaving me the only survivor of our original mess of twenty men who had been turned into Andersonville only four months previously. Cowles and Weliver remained longest. After the deaths of Grant and Kelly, Weliver came and shared my little spot of sand with me that I had occu pied since my ingress to this loathsome prison. He was a married man, having a wife and two children at Harpers Ferry, Allamakee county, Iowa, the county we had gone from. His family seemed to take his thoughts from the scenes around him, and the woful condition that he himself was in. I never heard him complain, but he was always talking about home and his little family. He had strong hopes of getting home and insisted on my accompanying

FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN REBEL PRISONS.

53

him, and he said we would have such pleasant times boat riding, as he lived near a small lake and had a nice little sail skiff of his own. He would tell me of his two sisters that were yet single how good looking and what splendid cooks they were. He said we would catch the fish and they would cook them, and we would do nothing but boat ride, fish and eat and have a good time generally, and that I should always live with him and share the fruits of his homestead.
But alas! the time came when poor Weliver was carried to the gate with multitudes of other sick, and by request I was assisted to his side, which was but a few rods away as our quarters were close to the south gate. There we lay side by side, waiting for the rebel doctors to come in to take us to the hospital, but no one came. Home seemed to be uppermost in his mind, little thinking of the near ap proach of death. We lay there on the burning sand until afternoon, when my dear and faithful friend began rapidly to weaken. A faint came over him, he told me it was grow ing dark and asked me if I could see. When I told I could, he faintly said that "we would not see any more trouble when we got home," and in an instant longer only the mor tal remains of poor, kind-hearted Weliver remained. This made me feel very sad, and caused me to think that perhaps I would shortly be relieved of my sufferings in a similar manner.
I was carried back to my detachment by the kind-hearted ooys of the lllth New York, where I remained long weeks, suffering untold miseries, and afterwards saw some of these same men who had been so kind to me carried away to the gate, in deaths cold embrace.

r ^i- ._ _. ^

CHAPTER XII.
ACTIVITY IX THE CONFEDERATE CAMP TWO CLASSES OF
TRAITORS A HUMANE REBEL OFFICER TERRIFIC
STORM ONE HUNDRED DEATHS PER DAY.
D URING July the rebels outside seemed to be in troubled waters. Reinforcements were being received in the way of State Militia. The 26th Alabama had been ordered to the front, as it was a veteran regiment, and it looked like something was about to happen somewhere. They com menced erecting two additional stockades around the one already there, and these were braced on each side with heavy timbers. This made a strong barrier against the prisoners, while heavy earth-works were built facing outward, and on both sides of these rifle-pits were dug, one line facing the prison and the other the opposite direction. The artillery was reinforced and placed in a different position, so that it could play on the stockade or on an advancing enemy, who they now seemed to think was liable to pay them a visit.
Before going any further I will inform my reader that there were two distinct classes of rebels in the South. This may seem strange, but it is true, nevertheless. Alluding to the 26th Alabama brought this to my mind, and as I do not want to be misunderstood, I will explain that previous to, and during the war, there was a class of fire-eaters in the South who were rebels in heart in 1836, when John C. Calhoun threatened the secession of South Carolina. Following
54

%

FIVE HUNDEED DATS IN EEBEL PttlSOttS.

55

in the wake of this same Calhoun, such men as Jeff. Davis,

Howell Cobb, Garden of Georgia, who helped to make up

the official part of a Rebel Government, and hundreds of

their treasonable followers, were the ones who collected the

combustible that was to lighten in 1861 and cause a breach

in the government of our fathers. These same men remained

in perfect security by first boosting each other into office,

and many of them never took an active part in the struggle

they had brought on, but remained in civil service in the

rear with full appointing power, and these and their ap

pointees, such as Winder, Wirz, and others that I shall

mention ere long, were one class. These were and are yet

the extremely bitter, cankered haters of the Northern peo-

,.

pie, and only wanted a chance to destroy the lives of as

many as they could of their detested enemies. No means

were too cruel to employ in performing their fiendish work,

as the 60,000 graves of Union prisoners of war in the South

will bear witness.

The other class were not conspirators, agitators, and still

worse, if possible, craven^ but they were rebels and traitors

to their government and flag, and that is bad enough. The

latter class was not clamorous for secession, but when urged

on and convinced that their services were required to fight

for what their leaders told them was right, they took up

arms and marched to the front, fought the battles and suf

fered the hardships for a cause they were lead to believe was

*

right? but which was wrong--eternally wrong. The 26th

Alabama, that had been our guards at Andersonville, were

of this class. They did not make frivolous excuses to shoot

*

men down, and never to my knowledge shot but one man

while they remained as our guards, and he went over the

" dead-line " to have an end put to his misery, and was not

66

FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN REBEL PRISONS.

killed until he had been repeatedly ordered back and would not go, but told the guard to fire, which he reluctantly did.
The Colonel of this regiment protested against the unnec essary cruelties that were daily practiced against us, and urged that we be better fed and cared for, but his protests were unheeded by the cravens in charge of the prison, over which the Colonel could exercise no authority. In the early spring he rode in among us almost daily, and seemed to feel sorry for us in our wretchedness. He told us if he had the privilege he would allow us more room, shelter us from the burning sun, and provide us some comforts in the way of wood, cooking utensils and blankets. But as our condition became rapidly worse his visits became less frequent, and when he came in he would say that he did not feel like fighting for a government that treated men as we were served, and would resign, or ask to be relieved from duty as commander of prison guards where such scenes met his vision. He was probably relieved at his own request, and sent to Atlanta, where he surrendered his regiment as pris oners of war without firing a shot. They were either pa roled or sent North. Intelligence of their surrender was conveyed to us by new prisoners from Shermans army and the 17th Corps, to whom they had surrendered.
One day in August a rumbling sound was heard in the distance that at first appeared like heavy artillery, and the camp was considerably aroused at the sound. Some thought Sherman was coming to our rescue, new prisoners having often told us that he intended to do so ; but our hopes soon fell, when a great black cloud arose in the north and we could see flashes of lightning, followed by distinct reports of thunder. This was preceded by a wind which came in pretty strong gusts, and gave us the first refreshing breeze

i!

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN EEBEL PRISONS.

57

*>

we had felt for two or three months. As the clouds came

up they hung low and enveloped the prison. The lightning

flashes became almost continuous, and the heavens seemed

ablaze. The clouds moved back and forth with terrible

rapidity, the earth was fairly being shaken by the loud peals

of thunder, the rain fell in torrents and the clouds continued

to hover over us for some time. Many believed that the

time of our total destruction had come, as it was the most

severe thunder storm they had ever witnessed. The light

ning almost singed us and the thunder nearly shook us

from the hillside, but instead of causing destruction,

it brought us a priceless blessing in the way of a large

spring of fresh, pure water. This burst forth during the

night from the north hillside, between the deadline and the

stockade, and near the summit of the hill. The water

coursed down the hill between the dead line and stockade

until it reached the creek. This gushed in such a volume

*

and force that it soon formed a channel, which was changed

by digging a little trench up to it, and near the base of the

hill. This had to be done with a long pole, as the rebels

would allow no one to approach it over the dead line. When

the course of the water had been turned, a large spout was

placed under the dead line, extending out a few feet and

raised high enough to allow a pail to pass under. The

stream was large enough to fill the vessels of the prisoners

as they filed past in line. It was guarded by the police, and

*

each man was required to take his regular turn as he had

fallen into line. This was necessary to prevent a crowd from

collecting and furnishing the guard an excuse for shooting

i

some one.

The appearance of this spring was considered by many as

a blessing sent to them from heaven, and no wonder that

58

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

they believed this when their condition is considered. The

water in the creek had become polluted beyond description.

It received the seepage of the swamp on each side, which

was covered with human excrement and filled with billions

of squirming maggots. All the slop from the cook house

outside was thrown into the creek and passed down where

we had to use it, and all the rubbish from the rebel camps

above, composed principally of beef bones and offal from

their cook shanties, was carted down to the edge of the

creek and piled up in decaying heaps. Still worse than this

were the privy sinks at the base of the hill, which drained

all their filth into our only water supply, which we had to

use for drinking, cooking and washing. Candidly, it was

too unfit for swine to drink or wallow in, and it almost

makes me sick at the stomach yet when I think that I ever

drank the liquid of such a mass of festering corruption.

Often when the men went as near the dead line as they

could to dip the water with as little filth as possible, the

Georgia militia would fir: into them, killing or wounding

one or two without giving them any warning of their dan

ger. We all looked upon this spring as an intervention of

Providence. It continued to send out abundance of pure

water during the remainder of our confinement in Anderson-

ville, and I was told by Gen. Given, of Iowa, who has

been there recently, that the spring is still running as when

we left the place, and had cat a channel down the hill eight

or ten feet deep.

The new supply of water and the enlargement of the

I-

prison was in our favor, and recommendations of a rebel

surgeon from Richmond to issue us fresh beef was consid

ered, and that is all there was of it. First, they gave us a

little piece about the size of two fingers, which had been

FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN REBEL PRISONS.

59

slightly salted. It was so badly tainted it would have dis gusted any well-fed dog, but we were glad to get even this. Some would cook their meat by boiling, then stir in meal and make mush. I never tried this, as it was all I could do to consume mine by picking it to pieces and swallow it with out chewing, to say nothing of eating a pint and a half of mush tainted with the stuff.
After two or three rations of this kind they changed to fresh beef. When they would slaughtar beef for their own men, they would give the head, and shanks from the knee down, to the prisoners. Just imagine ten men getting a cows leg below the joint for a days rations, and it not skinned or cut up. What lavish generosity! No wonder ths Confederacy got "busted." The head would be given to a mess of twenty men. Two or three would take the skin, singe the hair off of it and boil it, and thus have pretty fair soup, when two or three spoonsful of meal were &ddnd. The way it would be divided was to cut it into twenty piecttft, and lay them in a row. One fellow would turn his back when the Sergeant of the squad would point to a piece and ask, "Whose is that?" then the fellow with his back *airned would call the name of one of the mess, and so on ui til each piece was taken. Those getting the horns genei illy had a tough time. They would place them on a stick and hold them in the fire until they were broiled almost to ajimler. Then the owner would eat as far as burned, then put it into the fire again, and so on until he would get away with a whole cows horn. The brains, eyes and nose would be eaten not one ounce would be wasted that could
be used. . This was continued until our humane guests of the med
ical fraternity had turned their backs on the stockade and

60

FIVE HUNDRED DAYS TX HEBEL PRISONS.

returned to their own department. Then we were cut down

to our old fare of saltless bread, mush or meal, and, although

in a starving condition, we could hardly swallow this. Men

O

'

.'



became crazy with longing for food, and went aimlessly

about, entirely nude, and would wander away from their

detachment and die. The death rate increased until on an

average one hundred died per day through August; the

highest number in one day being two hundred and fifteen.

The time had come when I loathed the corn bread and

could hardly force it down, when, fortunately for me, two

cousins of mine of the 95th Illinois, Walter Thompson and

and Milon Fosdick of AVoodstock, McHenry county, Ills.,

came in and found me after a search of two weeks, by going

to the Sergeant of each hundred and making inquiry. One

of these had a gum shoulder-blanket, the only shelter of

any kind he had, which he traded to the guard for Irish

potatoes. He got a three-pound fruit can full, considera

tion, $3 Confederate money. He gave me his purchase. I

took the potatoes and buried them under the sand where I

slept, and ate one at morning, noon and night, raw and

with the skins on. This was of untold benefit to me, as it

gave me a better relish for other food, checked the progress

of the scurvy, and enabled me to pull through Anderson-

ville. At the time they came to me I was past going. I

had the scurvy in both feet, one leg was drawn up to a right

angle with my body, and I was unable to stand on my feet.

They cared for me with wife-like tenderness, and one or both

of them staid by my side almost continually, and spoke

nothing but words of encouragement.

-t 1
CHAPTER XIII.
NEWS FROM OUTSIDE----A DESPERATE BATTLE--RUMORS OP RESCUE----LAST ONE OF THE COMPANY----12,000 DEAD
COMRADES----FAREWELL TO ANDERSONVILLE.
M Y cousins brought me the first news I received from home since my capture. They told me all were well, except a brother I had assisted from the battlefield at Champion Hills, Miss., severely wounded, who was in the hospital at Memphis, Tenn., and one cousin, William Churchill, of Co. A, 95th Illinois, who had been killed in Sturgis blunder at Guntown, Miss. These boys were cap tured at the fall of Atlanta, and as they belonged to the 17th Corps, had participated in the battle of the 22d of July, of which they were justly proud. They brought us news of the death of our beloved McPherson, who fell early on that memorable 22d, which made us Western boys feel very sad, but caused rejoicing outside in the rebel camp.
They also informed us of the removal of Joe Johnston, and the transfer of his command to the less level-headed but fiery and impetuous Hood, who had set about laying plans to deceive Sherman with an appearance of evacuating Atlanta. He moved his army to the right, swung around and fell upon the little Army of the Tennessee, which formed Shermans left flank, with inconceivable force and fury.
Then ensued one of the most remarkable battles ia the history o* warfare. The attack was made in the front and

68

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN EEBEL PRISONS.

rear almost simultaneously, the veterans of the Army of the Tennessee fighting with an obstinacy that more than matched the impetuosity of their assailants. Gen. Logan was in com mand, and rode the whirlwind of battle with an inspired courage that scarcely admits of a parallel. Where the battle raged the fiercest, there was our brave and dauntless Logan. The enemys assault upon the 17th Corps was desperate. Twice and thrice its numbers were thrown against it. Again and again they were charged in front and rear, but they stood like a rock, and sent their missiles of death hurtling through the rebel ranks, with "McPherson and victory" for their watchword. When darkness settled upon this bloody field, our forces were in possession of all the ground they had occupied in the morning, and although they had lost nearly 4,000 men, they had inflicted a loss on the enemy of 10.000 killed, wounded and prisoners.
My two cousins informed me that an expedition of cavalry had been fitted out from Atlanta to release the prisoners, and could be expected almost any day. They seemed to have unbounded confidence in Sherman, and firmly believed that he would come to our rescue. They said when our forces liberated us, they would procure a horse or mule and stay with me and see me safe through the lines into Gods coun try. My hopes soared very high, as they seemed so sure of the coming event, but soon the news reached us that Gen. Stoneman, who was in command of this expedition, had him self been captured with a large part of his forces. This news caused my spirits to droop never to rise again in Andersonville.
The boys remained with us until about the 10th of Sep tember, when they were exchanged by a special agreement between Sherman and Johnston of 2,000 on a side who ha<J

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

63

been captured in the Atlanta campaign. When they took their departure they left me on the little spot of sand where they found me six weeks before. No one but myself ever will know how lonely I felt when they left me. Prison life now seemed harder to me than ever it had before.
In a day or so the news was circulated through camp that there would be an exchange of prisoners at Savannah, and that the first detachments had been ordered out. I belonged to one of the first detachments, but was not able to walk when they went out. None but those who could walk over to the railroad were allowed to sp. This left the worst cases of scurvy and all the helpless in the stockade, without any one to wait on them, draw their rations or bring them a drink of water. The removal went on every day until there were few but the sick left. These died oft5 rapidly, for need of proper attention. Many of those who died laid and fes tered on top of the ground, still adding stench to our already filthy camp. I became so near famished for water that I crawled to the creek and remained for several days unable to ascend the steep hillsides. I crawled around some old dugouts and finally found a stick, about five feet long, which I used as a cane, by employing both hands. With the help of the stick I could get to my feet and hobble around a little. I tried every day to walk, so I would be able to pass out of prison when an opportunity offered.
On the 13th of September the only remaining one of my company died, leaving me alone, as far as my company was concerned. This event made me very sad. I, the youngest boy in the regiment, and sick besides, to be left alone in that horrible pen, seemed indeed a hard fate. But I nerved up for the worst and resolved to stand the thing through, that J might tell the poor boys friends where they died.

64

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

Nine of my companys boys had died since we entered the stockade in the spring. The first passed away on the 23d of May, and the last on the 13th of September. Sergt. Smith, whom I have mentioned, had lost an arm and been paroled with other similar cases. Those of other companies had died, or been sent to Savannah with first squads, on the so-called exchange. As they claimed that only 20,000 would be ex changed, this would certainly cut me out and I would have to stay still longer as that number had already gone. These were discouraging circumstances, but I revolved matters in my own mind, and thought perhaps it had just as well be me left back as some of the other boys, for they might get discouraged, give up and die, while I felt that I was fortified for any emergency; that I would stick to them until the "blasted old Confederacy" went to ruin, which could not be many months, not over a year longer, anyway, and then I would be there to get satisfaction out of the rebels who had punished us so long and so cruelly.
I remained here until there were not more than 1,200 left to occupy the space that over thirty thousand had been crowded into, but a few weeks before. As one looked across the swamp at the bare hillsides, it seemed desolate in the extreme. It was almost enough to make the most deter mined give up, and lie down and die in sorrow and despair. But I did not seem to be in a dying condition about this time, although very weak and feeble. I had no one to look after, as before. My sick comrades, for whom I had felt so much anxiety, and sorrowed over until my heart was almost broken, had now passed beyond, where disease and death do not enter, nor rebels make afraid.
I would kindly ask the reader to stop and reflect a moment, and view iny condition with his imagination. You hav$

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

65

read of the sufferings I have narrated, or faintly attempted to describe. First remember that I was a boy only 18 years of age, had been in prison a year, and continually exposed to heat and cold, starved, and well nigh naked. I had staid to see twelve of my older and stronger comrades carried out dead, and I was now left sick and friendless. Had I been at home, I would have been considered sick enough to keep my bed. But here, the bare sand was my bed, cold clods my pillow, and the sky my mantle. Where is the breast, not dead to pity, but for me could breathe a sigh? I thought I had considered all the chances of a soldiers life when my heart beat with a patriotic impulse, and I enlisted for three years. But I do not now remember of ever having a thought of falling into the enemys hands. Had I even considered the subject, it would have been with the expectation that I should be fed and sheltered, and as well cared for as peoples stock are, at the least.

As they had been sending men away all the time, of course no new prisoners were being brought in. This cut us off from our former source of news. We knew nothing of what was going on in the outside world. Our last lingering hope of Shermans coming had now vanished. All the prisoners had been taken away except a few of the sick, and they could not be removed, or at least many of them could not. We had reached a time when there was little to hope for; and for me there were yet ahead five dreary months full of un foreseen disappointment and suffering. Better for me had I been killed in some of the battles we were engaged in before my capture, and thus have put an end to my misery forever. But "all is well that ends well," and I am here to-day to tell how the other poor boys were done to death by a base and

66

FIVE HUNDRED 1)4 Yfs 7tf REBEL PRISONS.

heartless foe. They were, the grandest soldiers the world has ever seen, but alas! their fate was cruel.
On the 1st of October we were informed that the sick in prison would be exchanged at Charleston, S. C., and that preparations had been made to take us to that point at once. We were ordered to be ready to move the next day. Many became excited over the joyful news, and passed a sleepless night, talking and singing, and a considerable squad congre gated and held a prayer meeting, in gratitude for what was to come to them in so short a time. But I was not so hope ful. Having been deceived so many times, I had come to believe the rebels who had charge of us to be liars from the least to the greatest. The fact that they said a thing, was sufficient reason to believe it to be otherwise. Every time they had occasion to remove us, for whatever cause, this plea of "exchange" was given out to us. As I said before, I had lost all hope of exchange, and never expected to be released until our friends accomplished it, or the war ceased to be.
But the time to go had come, and I took my little mush kettle and bade farewell to the spot of sand I had occupied for seven long, dreary months. My feet were still very badly swollen, so much so that I had to go on one foot, just being able to touch the toes of the other foot to the ground. But I took my tent-pole as a staff, and hobbled away. We went to the south gate, which we had entered years before, it seemed to us, and marched outside the gate through which over 12,000 of our dead comrades had been carried since the February night we had been turned into that horrible pen! Those who were able, walked over to the depot, and a few of the sick were hauled there. We were loaded into freight cars and crowded closely, then the doors were closed to within four or five inches of being shut, and fastened. . The

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

7

only reason I can give for thus closing the doors on us poor sick and crippled wretches, was to keep us from breathing too much of the precious air of the Southern Confederacy. The rebels seemed to be extremely stingy with everything necessary to our existence grub, wood, shelter, water, and even the atmosphere we breathed. The distance we were to be hauled was about 300 miles, over a rough road and at a slow pace, really not much faster than a good horse could travel.
After entering South Carolina we were in a poor, starved section of country, very sparsely inhabited, and on a railroad that was being kept in very poor repair. There was more stfffering crowded into this journey than I had ever seen in the same length of time, in my prison experience. A large majority of us were afflicted with scurvy, and our feet and leeors beinog swollen,* the crowded condition caused fearful cramps in our limbs. We did not have room to straighten hardly during the whole journey. The rebels did not pre tend to give us water to drink, and we became almost fam ished. When the train stopped for wood or water the boys would stick their cans out of the cars, and beg the guards to dip up a little water from the ditches along the side of the railroad track. They would give them bone finger-rings, brass buttons, or anything they might have in their posses sion, for a can of water dipped out of a stagnant pool, cov ered with green scum an inch thick, with hundreds of wigglers and infant tadpoles in it. This was both victuals and drink. To those who were burning with fever, the lack of water set them almost wild with delirium, and when one would give them a drink they would take hold of the vessel containing the water with almost a death-grip, and once to their mouth it could not be wrested from them until the last

FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN REBEL PRISONS.
drop of water was drank. I do not believe there ever was as much suffering on board of a train of cars as there was on the one on which we were taken from Andersonville, since
cars were invented. The first clay of our journey there were at least two or
three died in each car, and each following day the same for the three days we were making the trip. The dead were not removed from amongst us, but lay there with their glar ing eyes, open mouths and festered bodies in the close box cars until the smell was extremely sickening. We were so crowded in the cars that some one had to be uncomfortably near the dead. I am sure that I can give the reader, who has not had an experience similar to ours, but a poor under standing of what we suffered on this trip from Andersonville to Charleston. Imagine it just as bad as you possibly can, and multiply that by ten, then you can get in the neighbor hood of the truth of our condition. We ate, drank, slept, and attended the calls of nature for three days on this trip shut up with decaying human flesh, packed uncomfortably close in cars most miserably ventilated. When I think of it, I wonder that we did not all die of thirst and suffocation. Although we had suffered terribly with the gnawings of Lunger, yet famishing for water was a great deal worse.

CHAPTER XIV.
ONE WEEK IN A GOOD CAMP--THE SHADOW OF DESPAIR----
PRISON LIFE RENEWED----CHANGE OF RATIONS--AN
OTHER STOCKADE, WITH SATAN IN CHARGE.

WHEN we reached Charleston we were ordered to unload the dead, and those who were able went to work. The bodies were removed a short distance and sunk out of sight. Here we left about forty of our comrades, whose friends will never know where they were buried, no record being made of their names, company or regiment.
It was a great relief to us to get out of the cars where we could straighten out our limbs, get a little exercise, and breathe the pure air. We also had the privilege of looking in any direction, as far as the eye could see, for the first time in many months. These things, which may seem of so little importance to the reader, were very highly appreciated by us. There was a large squad of our old Andersonville crowd here, camped on the Fair ground or race-track. The "exchange" that had given them such high hopes when they left Andersonville, proved to be only a transfer from one prison to another. We were not left with those who had preceded us, but taken a few miles in the country and camped in a scrubby growth of timber near the railroad. A camp guard was put around us, and a few hard tack and a little salt horse were given us. We gathered up leaves and
69

70

FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN REBEL PRISONS.

dry grass and spread them under the grass, for beds, then

lay down and took solid comfort in comparison with what we

had been accustomed to. Our rations were scant, but toler

ably good. With a change of diet, a clean camp, and pure

air, we felt that we were truly blest.

Judging by our varied experiences with the rebels, we

had but little hope that our good fortune would last long,

nor were we mistaken in our predictions. After stopping

here about a week we got orders to get ready to move. The

morning we were ordered out we were surrounded by a

heavy fog, turning into a cold, drizzling rain, which came

from the northeast, and soaked our ragged garments and

trickled down our bare limbs, until we were so benumbed

that we could hardly move. We gathered up in groups as

close together as possible, to shield ourselves from the pelt

ing- rain and Ihe cold, raw wind that beat against the almost

G

'

O

naked bodies of our wretched little crowd. This proved too

much for half famished, half naked men, and many, weary

of such long, intense suffering, gave up in despair, lay back

on the ground and yielded to their fate. We left here, as

we had at every other place, a row of the dead, and others

dying.

What had been, but a day or two ago, the pleasantest

recollection of our prison life, was now turned to the bitter

est gall. If ever I wanted to die, nov) was the time. It

was more than life was worth to live under such discourag

ing circumstances. I had suffered so long and so much that

to die would be a welcome relief. 1 had hoped against hope

so long, and things kept going from bad to worse, that I,

like others, came near giving up and going the way of the

thousands who had perished at Belle Isle and Andersonville.

We were kept here for hours waiting for the train that

,f

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

ft

was to bear us away to another prison. About 11 oclock

the train arrived and we were loaded in, leaving the unburied

dead stretched out on the bare sand, with their rags flutter

ing in the wind and the trees moaning and sighing above

their uncovered bodies. Though the great cold rain-drops

beat down in their open eyes and mouths, the soul had gone

to the God who gave it, and their mortal parts were left to

mingle with their mother clay, unknelled and unnoted. We

were packed into freight cars, about one hundred to the car,

and when all was ready our train, loaded with human freight,

moved away in a northwesterly direction. We knew not

where we were going, nor did we care. If we were to re

main in prison any longer, we might as well be in one place

^

as another. One thing was certain, however the rate at

which they were dying would, in a little while, leave none to

be hauled over the Southern Confederacy. We made slow

progress on our journey. Often the old engine would halt,

as if out of breath, then it would start up and move slowly

along, not much faster than a man could walk. When the

train stopped we were allowed to get out and straighten out

our limbs.

As we got along on our journey we came to a flat, marshy

region. This was the great rice country of South Carolina.

On either side of us, stretching as far as the eye could

reach, were to be seen great rice plantations, and for miles

the railroad track was laid on trestles. We imagined we



would come to the jumping-off " place after awhile, or find

the so-called "last ditch" that we had heard so much about,

where the rebels would make their final stand. After a day

and night of slow running we stopped at a little insignificant

village, something over a hundred miles from Charleston,

and unloaded. We did not know why they should leave us

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FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN BEZEL PRISONS.

here. There was no sign of any preparation being made to

keep us no prison, no grub, or anything else. We thought

that perhaps they had got tired of hauling us from place to

place, and just dumped us off here to get rid of us. There

was another half-score of dead on the train, which were

taken off and placed side by side in a row, a little way from

the railroad.

We soon learned that the place we were at was Florence,

S. C. It was an old, dilapidated town, with but few houses,

and in the whole place there was not one respectable dwell

ing. After leaving the cars we marched off into the pine

woods by the side of a little stream of water, and were told

this was to be our camp, a heavy guard being placed around

us. All who were able went to work fixing up quarters to

make themselves as comfortable as possible. We gathered

leaves, grass and pine boughs and spread them under the

scrubby pines, whose branches formed some shelter and pro

tected us from the cold ni<rhts.

<_>

>

which

are

so common to the

low lands of the South. The prisoners we left at Charleston

shortly followed us, and we soon had our old Andersonville

crowd of five or six thousand.

The rations given us here were as varied as the products

of the soil. They gave us whatever they could gather from

the surrounding country, and haul in with wagon trains.

They gave us potatoes, rice, peas, turnips, meal, and lacking

these, they would haul corn in the ear to us. This change of

rations almost daily, from one thing to something else, was of

great benefit to us who had been afflicted with scurvy so

long at Andersonville.

As there was no stockade or any other enclosure at Flor

ence at the time of our arrival, to keep us in, there being

only a camp guard around us, the prisoners thought it woul(J

.\ ,

PIV$ HUNDRED DAYS IN REBfiL PRISONS.

73

be a good time to make a break and try and reach the Union

lines. The stronger ones set to work to form a secret plan

,

for a general assault on the guards, take their arms from

them, and make for the coast where the Union fleet lay. As

this was but a little over a hundred miles, it was believed

that many would be successful in gaining their freedom.

When the time came all were ready, and they made a bold

rush on the guard line, which gave way, and hundreds of

the prisoners escaped. The rebels on the opposite side from

where the breach had been effected fired as rapidly as possi

ble after the fleeing Yankees, but the casualties were very

light, as the guards were so much excited that they fired too

high, and very few shots took effect.

9

After the prisoners were out of reach of the rebels around,

they divided up into small bands, each taking a different

direction, some making for the seaboard and others going

into the interior of the State and seeking refuge in the

mountains. By so doing they would get out of the swampy

country, and could make better progress and have better

opportunities to get forage. There was another advantage

to be gained by going to the mountains. It was a well-

known fact that there were thousands of people in the

mountain districts of the Carolinas and other Southern

States whose sympathies were with the Union, and if these

could be reached the fugitives would stand a chance of being

fed and concealed until they could pick their way to some

*

part that was being held by our forces, or picked up by

Union cavalry raiding-parties. The country at that time

was being so thoroughly patroled by rebel cavalry and State

*

militia, hunting for deserters from their own army, that it

made traveling by day impossible, and at night they could

make but little headway.

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FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN REBEL PRISONS.

The rebels telegraphed in different directions, setting forth the fact that there were hundreds of live Yankees running at large in the neighborhood of Florence. Cavalry and in fantry were sent in pursuit, and the patroling parties redou bled their diligence until within a few weeks nearly all the prisoners were brought back. Those who succeeded in elud ing the patrols and were gone the longest, had improved considerably in health. They had lived on corn, sweet pota toes, peas, turnips, and such other things as they could forage. They reported that they were treated with the greatest kindness by the slaves, and were never betrayed by them in a single instance. Those of us who were feeble and could not get away received about the same rations that were given us on our arrival, occasionally a little meat, molasses
*
and a little bit of salt being added. All these new allow ances were thankfully received.

As stated before, when I left Andersonville I was very badly afflicted with scurvy, so much so that I could hardly get around, and in fact could not walk at all without a staff. By this time this had nearly disappeared, and I could get around much better; still, I had not perceptibly improved in flesh.

Everything passed in the manner I have described until

old "Winder came on from Andersonville, when he called a

halt. Then things soon presented a different aspect. He

collected a large gang of slave laborers from the rice planta

tions,' and some who had been workingo: on fortifications

about Charleston, and began cutting logs to build a stockade.

'

C>

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O

These were cut about twenty feet long and placed in a trench

about five feet deep, leaving about fifteen feet above ground.

The logs were not hewn, as at Andersonville.

FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN REBEL PRISONS.

75

n the stockade was built they threw up earth against the outside, eight or ten feet high, so the guards could walk on this bank and overlook the prison. A dead line was es tablished by digging a little trench a few inches deep, and about fifteen feet inside the prison wall. The prison was longest east and west, and contained twelve or thirteen acres, with a gate on the west side. There was a little creek running through from north to south, two or three feet deep by six feet wide. This swamp, and the ground taken up by the dead line, cut down the area of tenable ground to about eight acres. There were forts at the corners, mounting two pieces of field artillery each, and one gun before the gate, all arranged to rake the interior of the prison. There were other earthworks built for defence, which were occupied by the infantry. The soldiers on duty here consisted of a regi ment of Georgia troops and several companies of South Carolina militia, under command of Col. Iverson.
The stockade being thus completed, we were transferred from our shady bowers to the prison, where we were to pass through the same or similar sufferings we had endured at Andersonville. We were here arranged into detachments of a thousand, with a Sergeant in charge of each detachment. There was also a Sergeant in charge of each hundred, and one to each mess of twenty. The camp was laid off in squares, each detachment occupying a square, with the hundreds ar ranged in regular order, with a small alley between where we could get in ranks and to have roll-call. There was one main street, running from the gate through the center to the east side, to which these alleys ran at right angles, and there was also a bridge over the creek, on the main street. The five or six thousand who were already in the stockade occu pied the west side of the creek. No shelter, nor material

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FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

for constructing any, was given us. The ground on which the prison was located had been thickly wooded, similar to that of Andersonville. The debris of the fallen timber from which the stockade had been built furnished us some hut
material. As soon as the men had been assigned their patch of
ground they went to work some gathering limbs, sticks and leaves, while the rest prepared caves or dugouts, in size to suit the number that was to occupy them. They would then place a post or fork at the ends, put on a ridge-pole, then stick on brush and leaves, and finally cover with earth, leaving a hole to crawl in, facing the alle}7. Next we gath ered leaves and grass to spread in for a bed, and we were ready to keep house. We early comers cleared the ground so thoroughly that there were not enough sticks and grass left for a crow to build a nest with. It put one in mind of a great potters field. Just imagine 6,000 men burrowed up, like ground-hogs or badgers, on four acres of ground!
About this time the prisoners ,who had been sent to Charleston. Millen and Savannah came streaming in, until there were about 157.000 crowded on the eiOght acres of ground, making over twelve men to the square rod of tenable ground, which very sensibly reminded us of Andersonville. These had not even brush or sticks to build huts with. Some went to the swamp and worked the mud into bricks, which they dried in the sun and made into little walls, arched over at the top to form a roof, which would wash down every time it rained and cover its occupants with mud. Thousands made little or no effort to build shelter.
Some would dig holes to lie in, which protected them from the cold fall winds, but when it rained these holes filled with water, driving the occupants out, and necessarily compel-

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

77

iing them to trespass on their neighbors. They would hud dle up to the little clugouts, and many times cave in the slender roof and fall upon those inside, who, in turn, would have to come out and repair the breach, or be drowned out themselves by the filling in of water.
No matter what may be said in defence of the South not being able to furnish us provisions, or proper medical aid, there was no excuse for them not giving us good shelter and plenty of wood to cook with. The stumps were dug up, and the roots followed as long as a small stick could be found. This was done with half-canteens, knives and pad dles, and lacking these they would dig with their hands, like a dog digging for gophers.
You will remember that we suffered all these privations within a quarter of a mile of an extensive forest, which was almost valueless to its owners, from which we could have been supplied with good quarters within three days time; and we would gladly have done the work ourselves had we been allowed the privilege. Our wood supply for cooking and warming never exceeded a stick as large as a small cook stove stick to each man, for a days issue, and many times even this was not given us.
Gen. Winder was Commissary General of prisoners of war, with headquarters as far from the front as he could get, and be where he could destroy his defenceless enemies. First, at Richmond, then at Andersonville, and last at Flor ence. Old Satan himself was Interior Commandant. He came to us in human form, but had none of the good quali ties of the race. He was a very wry-faced man, with fiery red hair, and a more inhuman wretch it was never my mis fortune to meet. This was Lieut. Barrett. All who were in the different prisons of the South will agree with me that

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FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

Barrett was the most cruel man we ever came in contact

with. He had a little more brains than some of the rest,

and this extra intellect was entirely given to cruelty. He

would shoot into squads of men, knock down and kick the

life out of poor feeble boys who were unable to get out of

his way, and, indeed, do anything to cause pain. The fact

that anything hurt some one else was sufficient reason for

d

CJ

his doing it.

CHAPTER XV.

KEAKLY FOUR DAYS WITHOUT RATIONS----SLAVE DRIVERS----THfc PRESIDENTIAL, ELECTION OF 1864----A REBEL RECRUIT ING OFFICER IN CAMP--LOST ELOQUENCE.

OXE day Lieut. Barrett came into camp and said he had been informed that a tunnel was being dug, and that

he would stop the rations of the whole camp until they deliv

ered up the rascals who were trying to escape. At this time

our rations were very scant, and after doing without one day

the smawings of hunger became fearful. But there were no

C>

t--'

<k-*

signs of Barrett relenting, and all went to work in search of

the alleged tunnel, and as there wasnt any, of course none

could be found. This was reported to Barrett, when he sent

in some men with an iron rod about eight foot long and shar

pened at the end. Commencing at one corner of the dead

line, they ran this into the ground at every two or two aud

one-half feet, until they went around the whole prison.

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

79

This being slow work, it was two days before they found out for themselves that there was no tunnel, and in the fore noon of the fourth day they gave us rations. But they came too late for many poor fellows. The pangs of hunger had been so intense that they were burning with fever, and their brains were racked with delirium. We were so near fam ished that we could not wait to cook our rations, but mixed up our meal with water and ate it raw. Many had reached the stage when they loathed food, and their stomachs rejected the distasteful mess. Very many died during the long fast, and others were so debilitated that they died in a few days. Thus, hundreds of our gallant boys were done to death, as others had been before, when they were not guilty of the slightest offense, just to gratify the brutal instincts of the craven Barrett, and appease his longing for the lives of his enemies.
The slaves employed to build the stockade, erect barracks, for the rebel soldiers, cut wood for the prison, etc., passed our camp going out in the morning and back at night, accom panied by two or three overseers who rode on horseback and each carried a large whip. These masters compelled the slaves to strike up a chant and sing at the top of their voLes, going and coming, which probably was to make us think they were happy, but which we knew to be otherwise. The master of the hounds, with his yelping pack, brought up the rear, to see that all were safely coimded at night.
When the day of the Presidential election of 1864: arrived, the rebels seemed to be considerably interested as to the result. They considered the success of McClellan favorable to a peaceful settlement and a cessation of hostilities on their own prescribed terms. Their co-workers in the North had already manifested a desire to see the South triumph, and

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FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN EEBEZ PRISONS.

many of the lukewarm loyalists were willing to give up all that bad been done for the sake of peace, and the return of their sons ^ and if McClellan was elected the pressure of the anti-war party would be manifested so strongly that terms detrimental to the Union cause would be agreed to, while the election of Lincoln meant quite the reverse. His policy had been clearly outlined, and he would only cease operations when the last rebel had laid clown his arms, and had surren dered to the standard-bearers of the United States, and when his proclamation declaring all men free and equal before the law should become a fact, indeed.
Let us see how matters had resolved themselves in the minds of the poor starving, naked and rotting wretches in the prison pen at Florence. The rebels gave us a small ballot-box to each thousand men, and gave us white and black beans to use as ballots. Judges of election were ap pointed, and all things arranged in regular order. When we proceeded to cast our votes, all seemed anxious to be the first to show what platform they stood on. Men could be heard in all parts of the camp calling out: "Heres your un conditional Lincoln tickets! Dont vote to please the rebels, Wi-O have starved to death so many of our comrades, but vote to whip the last mothers son of them!"
Men used very strong language in some cases, as they did not want to be misunderstood. They wanted all to know that the truly loyal voted and shot the same way; that they stood on one side of the works and dealt death and destruc tion to those on the opposite side. When the vote waa footed up it showed several thousand for Lincoln and only three or four hundred for McClellan Republicans and Dem ocrats all voting alike for Lincoln. The McClellan votes were from those who belonged to the old "Raider Crowds,"

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

81

or a few soft heads who aimed to seek favor with rebel offi cers.
I dont want any to think that I am running this thing into politics, for such is not the intention. I simply write it because it is a fact and part of our experience, and attests the extreme loyalty and devotion to the country of those who had been confined so many long, dreary months in prison, where they had suffered hardships and privations that are impossible for the pen to describe.
When the result of the election was announced, the rebels around us were not very well pleased, as we believed they intended to use it as political powder for their friends in the North, had the result been different, but, as it was, it cer tainly must have been an unpleasant reminder of what had transpired at the North, as this result furnished proof that long-continued confinement, with starvation, disease and death on every hand, could not change the loyalty of the Union soldiers, much less that of their friends at the North, over whom the rebels could have no control.
Of course this made no figure in the election, but was an excuse for old Winder to cut down our already scanty allow ance of corn meal, which he did, our very next issue being perceptibly smaller than what we had been receiving. Although we were thankful for a change in our grub line, we were not clamorous for a change in this direction from bad to worse, but it was a noticeable fact that it was easier to go down than up grade. Everthing about us seemed to have this tendency. The Confederacy was on the downward slope, the hopes of those in authority about us were lowering, the supply of rations of grub and wood was getting less; our almost famished bodies, wasted limbs and vitality were has tening us to the base of the hill, and another step would

82

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

bring us to the grave. Hence, with ease we traveled the downward grade.
About this time arrangements were made to exchange the sick at Florence. This should have taken every one of us, but the rebel doctors, not the prisoners, were the judges. They first took the cripples and hopelessly sick from among us. They claimed it to be a charity to remove this class, but we believed it to be bad faith to our government to take those who could be of no further use to the government, and hundreds who were certain to die before or shortly after reaching the parole boats, only to save the poor fellows lives. The exchange did no good. I never could under stand why they could not exchange all as well as a part, on the same terms, and let the prisoners on both sides return to their homes, and by so doing save thousands of lives. There had been several special exchanges those of .the sick at Belle Isle; 2,000 between Sherman and Johnston at Andersonville; later, of the sick at that place, and now again at Florence, and I was not included. I, like the old woman, felt that I had been born the "wrong time of the moon" for luck.
The sending away of 4,000 sick together with the mortal ity, reduced our number to 11,000, which relieved us of our crowded condition, but still did not give the room we should have had.
As autumn advanced we could begin to see the signs of approaching winter the second one that had come to many of us in the prisons of the South. As the atmosphere got down to a freezing point, we became sensibly reminded of our almost naked condition. My bare feet, shirtless body and bare head, blouse with sleeves gone to the shoulder, and open as a set of fly-nets, and pants with legs worn off to the

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83

body, and holes as broad as one hand in the most embarras sing parts, might have done very well for warm weather, but with the mercury down to freezing point they became simply useful for the accumulation of thousands of vermin. We were in bad condition to stand even as mild a winter as is common to that latitude. As much as I have heard in de fence of that place, I will tell you the honest truth I would just as soon have been at home with mother. I was no worse off than a majority of the prisoners. We had all seen Andersonville, and many of us Belle Isle and Libby.
As the rebel army was being forced back at all points they began to feel the need of more troops to replenish their de pleted ranks, and they were too stubborn to treat with Ben Butler for a general exchange of prisoners, whereby they could get back their own men who were held as prisoners of war in the North, so they sought to induce the prisoners to enlist in the rebel army. They thought we would do any thing rather than lay in prison where starvation, disease and death stared us in the face on every hand.
For this purpose a rebel officer came in from Charleston. He was informed that the prisoners were anxious for the change, and preparations were made to enroll all who wished to go out and take up arms against their government. A large dry goods box was rolled into prison and one or two smaller ones, and when all things were in readiness, the rebel officers came in with their enlistment rolls, which were spread on the smaller boxes preparatory to taking names. Then our Charlestonian mounted the larger box and addressed us at length, asserting that our government had thrown us aside, and cared not what we had suffered nor what our fate might be. That we were keeping the same number of their men as prisoners of war in the North, thus rendering our

84

FIVE &U&DRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

government as good or better service than we could accom plish in the field. That they had used all fair and honorable means to effect an exchange of prisoners, but General Grant was aware that the terms of service of many of the prisoners had expired, and others would expire before they could be recruited up, and they could be of no further service to their country, and he was willing to let them starve and die in prison soonei than make an effort to release them, by giving strong, well men in exchange, and that he cared nothing for the sacrifices of a few thousand men in order to carry out his policy. He said we had staid and endured untold hard ships far more than could be expected of us; that many thousands of our numbers had died, and still hundreds more were sick, and if they remained in prison would die. That now the time had come when we had nothing to hope for in the way of release by exchange of prisoners between the two governments, but were castaways, left to starve and die. That as our terms of service had expired, or many of them, at least, we owed no further allegiance to our Government, having fulfilled our obligations, and were now free to act in any manner that would, in our judgment, be best, consider ing the circumstances we were in. He dwelt a short time on the grand achievements of the Confederate army, and gave it, as his firm belief, that the South would soon be a free and independent nation, winding up by offering us an oppor tunity of enlisting in what he termed the "most powerful army on earth," which in a few months would march to final victory, and by joining them we, with the rest, would become the happy recipients of a large bounty, and a land warrant for one hundred and sixty acres of good land, in a warm cli mate, where we could become prosperous farmers.
There were a few Benedict Arnolds standing around, who

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85

teemed to swallow what was being uttered, but when he invited us up to give our names to the enrolling officers and become Confederates, we grew so indignant at his audacity that we all rushed at him with one impulse, dumped him and his goods box the other side up, and he barely escaped with his life. The enrolling papers were captured and destroyed by our loyal boys.
After this old Winder cut short the rations and settled down to a regular siege, either to bring us to terms or starve us to death. After all, there were a few who appeared to think they had endured enough, and that something should be done to relieve them of their sufferings. Their terms of enlistment had expired, and instead of rotting in prison they ought to be at home with their friends. Several who had become nearly starved and almost destitute of clothing, made their wishes known to the rebels and were taken outside-- about 300 in number. With a few exceptions, I could not blame these poor, naked, starved wretches, their only object being to get clothed up and fed, that they might live to see the thing through. This, probably, saved many lives. But as yet I had not asked a rebel for any favors, and I would have died and let the buzzards pick my prison-calloused car cass before I would have given the rebels that much satisfac tion. The more I was starved, the worse I hated them. I was always stubborn when I was forced to anything. I never would be driven, and I believe that this disposition was an advantage to me in these most trying circumstances. My will power kept me on the march when my knapsack, gun and equipments almost weighted me down. Remember, I enlisted at 15 years of age, weighed less than 115 pounds, and had done a full soldiers duty for two and one-half years
"* ifore I was captured.

CHAPTER XVI.
THE FATAL RAINY SEASON----STARVATION IMMINENT----HOS
PITAL HORRORS----EATEN UP BY VERMIN----A HEART
RENDING ACCIDENT.
rTTlOWARD the middle of November the fall rains set in, _A_ and this, together with our scanty allowance of corn meal, began to pinch us harder than ever. Thousands lay on the bare sand almost as naked as when they came into this world, and received the great cold rain-drops that beat against their bare limbs, and hundreds of them were chilled to death. I was much better off than hundreds of others, as I was sheltered from the rain, but was in a miserable con dition, as my hut mates and I lay almost naked upon our louse-infested bed of pine leaves, shivering in the cold, chilly air that beat against our exposed and nearly nude bodies. The cold fall rains had come to complete the work of destruction that had been commenced on Belle Isle and in Andersonville. In the four and one-half months that we were at Florence, 5,900 had died, and the country for which they perished does not have a record of their names. The dreary pines there sigh over the unnoted graves of nearly 6,000 brave men, whose friends will never know where they rest. The naked bodies of the sick who were exposed to the cold rain were as purple as the blossoms of the lilac, as
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8t

they lay shivering on the bare sand, pelted by the drenching rain from the sullen skies.
All soldiers will agree with me that the rainy seasons were crowded full of suffering in camp, or on the march for in stance, the fall and winter of 1861 in Kentucky and Mis souri; the marches from Boonville, Syracuse and New Madrid, and Island No. 10, when the windows of heaven opened and the water just poured down in great torrents. The earth was a continual sheet of water. We were ankledeep in mud wherever we went. Sit up, stand up" or lie down, we were in the sticky mire. That those were hard ships all will admit. But we generally had tents, blankets, overcoats, and enough to eat to keep us from starving. On the whole, the rainy seasons were really more dreaded than the great battles of the war, and were nearly as fatal to life.
But this marching, standing guard and campaigning in our lines in the rain, snow, sleet and mud were happy days compared to the same kind of weather on Belle Isle or at Andersonville or Florence, where we were almost naked, without blankets, tents or other shelter, starved and sick. When I look back over those times of intense suffering, I marvel that even one of the many thousands ever lived to tell the woeful tale.
As I have said before, when we first came to Florence our rations consisted of a little over a pint of corn meal, two or three small sweet potatoes, and a little meat once a day. These were the best we had ever received, both in quantity and quality, but as time wore on our rations were varied. In place of potatoes, we would get a few peas or a gill of rice. The meal was brought in two-bushel sacks, the highest number of sacks to the thousand men being ten sacks in any one day, or twenty bushels to the thousand men. As

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FIVE BUNDRED DAYS IN REBEL PRISONS. 9

there were thirty-two quarts to the bushel, each thousand received 640 quarts of unsifted meal, or a little over a pint to a man. As December and January came in, the sweet potatoes, meat and rice were things of the past, and they were to come to us no more forever in the Confederacy.
We were now confined to corn meal alone, and it gradu ally diminished until when January came we received only eight bushels, or 256 quarts of meal to the thousand men. We thought we had sounded the depths of starvation at Belle Isle or Andersonville, but now death by starvation seemed to be sure and certain. It was nearly the only thing talked about "something to eat." We lay down at night terribly hungry, had tantalizing dreams of good things to eat, only to get up in the morning almost famished. We scraped the inner bark off of our scanty rations of green pine wood and ate it, made gum of the pitch pine and chewed it, to keep our jaws going. Some would go to the creek and drink water until they were bloated ; in fact, they did everything they could to assuage the pangs of hunger. On one occasion I saw a man of the lllth New York and a company comrade of my two hut mates cook some scraps of old loot legS) stir in meal until it was thick gruel, and eat it!
When I read of the sufferings of the survivors of the Greely expedition, I was vividly reminded of the last few days we spent in Florence. I have read seafaring tales where whole crews were shipwrecked, and became so fam ished that they would cast lots to see who should be slaught ered to furnish food for the rest, and I am sure they could have been but little worse off than we were. All the differ ence was, they did not have that little half-pint of unsifted, saltless meal, and we did. We had eaten dog on Belle Isle, maggoty beef, cattle heads and legs in Andersonville, but

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89

now we had not even these to satisfy the gnawings of hunger. The appearance of the prisoners now was far worse than at any previous time. We all had the same sad, forlorn look, the same dull, sunken eyes, bony face, and long, birdlike fingers. The best clothed among us was dressed in squalid rags. Some had only a shirt, others simply pants, and many were without even these. I saw men going arouud with nothing on but a thin meal sack with holes cut in for arms and neck to pass through.
The rebel doctors had prepared a shed hospital in one corner of the stockade, where they made some pretension of caring for the sick, and this was principally filled with gan grene and scurvy cases, where many felt the keen edge of the surgeons knife. Hundreds had their feet and toes taken off. Probably the best known among them was John W. January, of the 14th Illinois Cavalry, who amputated his own feet with a pocket knife, by unjointing at the anklejoint, which no doubt saved his life.
Hundreds more who were afflicted with scurvy weve crip pled for life. Their swollen feet and legs had become life less a great chunk of dried pus. Their limbs had passed through the same process that the human body undergoes after death, first festering, then drying down and becoming hard. Many whom I could name brought these prison-relics home with them in the following spring, when the Confed eracy went to pieces, and they were turned loose in the Union lines.
Christmas had come, the second one since I had been a prisoner of war. The first came to over 90 of the 5th Iowa at Belle Isle, but the second found less than half a dozen of the boys at Florence, us few who had witnessed the passing away of many times our numbers, and had not yet seen the

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FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN REBEL PRISONS.

1

end. We knew we had to stay and suffer with cold, hunger,

and disease, probably for long, weary months, without any

prospect of our condition being bettered.

fr.

The days and nights had now become so cold that we could

not move around. The ground had been frozen, and when

we had to move out it hurt our bare feet. In cold, rainy

days, which were frequent through November and December,

the camp would be almost as still as a graveyard. All who

had shelter staid inside, and huddled together like so many

pigs, and only turning out when rations were being issued.

These would be hurriedly cooked, when each fellow would

crawl into his little dug-out, carrying his steaming pot of

mush or half-baked corn pone, which they would devour like

so many hungry wolves, then lie clown with a still greater *

longing for food than before eating.

The inactivity of the prisoners, and their bunching up to

gether, gave the lice an opportunity to accumulate in vast ^ .^

quantities. They literally swarmed over our bodies and

filled our rags and our beds of pine leaves full. They be

came almost unbearable, and when a warm day would come

thousands of naked men could be seen on the sunny side oi

their rude little huts, killing the pesky vermin. Those who

had sick comrades had to strip them and "louse " their rags,

to keep the lice from sapping their wasting vitality. Sicl

men would often become a raw sore all over by the feeding

on them of lice, and I have seen men who I believe died / v v

from simply having their life blood sapped away by the

thousands of vermin that swarmed over them.

About this time occurred one of the saddest events of my

life. There stood in the main street of the prison, and near

the bank of the creek, a large scraggy pine tree, the only

one, I think, left standing in the stockade. One day one of

FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN REBEL PRISONS.

91

*
he boys got hold of an old axe and began to trim this tree,

,g|$hich was trimmed up and cut down by removing a piece at

ime, commencing at the top. This was necessary, as it

not be felled on account of the little dugouts in all

rections. While this trimming process was going on I

assed down to the creek, to get a can of water, and on my

turn trip I passed under the tree just in time to be caught

a falling limb, three or four inches in diameter, which

ruck me on the right shoulder, felling me to the ground,

Irtially dislocating my neck, breaking bones, and mutilating

ne hand. I was carried to the hut by my comrades, in an

inconscious state, and laid on my rude bed of leaves, there

o remain and suffer the pains of a burning fever for long,

.reary weeks, without physician or medicine, which was ac-

aally enough to kill an ordinary veteran army mule. From

is injury, and other disease incident to it, I yet suffer un-

Id misery, which will probably hasten me to a premature

ave. My affliction has caused me at times to feel the keen

ing of poverty, but I have never eaten the bread of an

ler.

When with the army I helped to capture a great many

isoners, for instance, at New Madrid, Island No. 10, and

icksburg, and I would always divide my last hardtack with

hungry Johnny; but, in turn, when we were captured and

nfined in prison, we were starved, exposed, and allowed to

bt until six out of eveiy seven of the 5th Iowa died. This

ras a clear case of returning evil for good anti-Christlike.

,'t\
CHAPTER XVII.

OEATH OF WICKED WINDER DELIRIOUS WITH HUNGER

4GALVANIZED YANKS" NEW PRISONERS ARRIVE, WITH

WELCO3EE TIDINGS SHERMANs ADVANCE.

<

O X Xew Years day occurred the death of General Windei He fell dead at his tent door, without any warning < his approaching dissolution. Thus passed away one of tl most notorious cravens the world ever knew.
It appears that the rebel officers had prepared a and laid in a supply of sorghum whisky, and were preparing to have a "big time" with what they had saved by cutting down the rations of the prisoners. Xo doubt they had waxed rich in Confederate money at our expense, and were going to have a grand feast. When all was arranged, Col. Iverson sent an Orderly to tell his chief that things were in readiness and he was invited to dine with him. Gen. Winder assented, and as he stepped to the tent door he fell prostrate on the ground, and immediately expired. This put an end to the festivities of that day, and no doubt saved gallons of villain ous whisky for future use, as but few had got drunk when the above event took place.
I have read in a good book that "Man born of woman is of few days and full of trouble," but I know, without hear say, that the man who was taken prisoner and came in con tact with old Winder was of but few days and short of grub.
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98

During the first years of the war Winder held the position of Provost Marshal of the city of Eichmond. He was so abusive, tyrannical and cruel that the people could not endure him, and heavy pressure was brought upon the rebel Presi dent to remove his obsequious subordinate. Winder was then appointed Commissary General of Prisoners of War, as he was probably the fittest person in the Confederacy for that position, with the objects in view of Jeff. Davis, and the work his administration would accomplish. The Rich mond people were greatly pleased to get rid of their old-time tormentor, but they said God have pity on the hapless men placed at his mercy! To no other mans door, in the worlds history, can be laid such a terrible load of human misery and suffering as is charged to that of Major General John H. Winder, Commissary General of Prisoners of War, C. S. A.
As time wore on the suffering from hunger grew so intense that many became delirious, and these could constantly be seen, in almost any direction, wandering aimlessly about, muttering words that were unintelligible. These poor demented creatures would walk over the dead line and be shot down by the merciless guards, or lie around in some nook or corner where they chanced to wander, and die unbe known to their friends. There were a great many insane at Andersonville, but they were often men just from our lines, who had become almost paralyzed at the horrible sights that were to be seen on every hand, and were made to realize that they were to become a part of that wretched crowd, and were liable to go the way of the thousands who sleep beneath those ghostly pines. The insanity at Florence was caused by long imprisonment men who had withstood the rigors of the previous winter on Belle Isle and in Andersonville, and
were then sent to another prison to starve until reason fle<? l

FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN REBEL PRISONS.
In January those who had been taken out and enlisted in the rebel army were sent back into prison. The rebel officer said he could do nothing with "the d d Yankees," they would steal everything in the Confederacy if kept out much longer. These were comfortaby clothed and were in toler ably good condition. They were branded "galvanized Yanks" by the rest of the prisoners. Although they had lost the respect of most of their comrades, they had gained a pretty good suit of clothes, and improved in health and strength, therefore were much better off than those who had considered it a disgrace to take an oath of allegiance to the Southern Confederacy. Those who took this oath did not consider it binding. They simply adopted this method to keep from starving to death in prison; and this enabled most of them to live to see the Confederacy fall in the following
T*
spring.
The days passed away slowly and drearily through Janu ary. We were too wretched for anything. There was no stir except when rations were brought in, then all that were able would turn out, and for awhile the prison seemed to be inhabited. Our naked bodies could not stand the cold days of midwinter, and we lay in our rude huts and huddled together to keep each other warm, as we had no wood to malie fires to warm by. Death had now thinned our ranks so that all who remained had some sort of shelter. The prisoners were now dying at .a fearful rate, and it was evi dent that if things did not soon take a different turn, there would be none of us left in a very short time.
Toward the last part of the month a squad of new pris oners was brought in, who had been captured near the coast. We old dried skeletons gathered around them in such great numbers that it is a wonder they did not get frightened

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

95

death at our ghostly appearance. They informed us of Shermans success at Savannah, and that he had cut loose from there, entered South Carolina, and was there repeating the march he had made through Georgia. They told us that our armies were moving northward, and they would pay us a visit, as it was understood that Columbia, the capital of South Carolina, was Shermans objective point, and Florence being near his line of march, he would make a diversion and release the prisoners. We had hoped against hope so long that all had become more or less skeptical, and could only believe we should be released when we saw our army approaching. The rebel Generals had made such frantic appeals to the citizens to rally, and the collection of all the forces they could possibly muster, and these placed under able Generals, that it seemed they would certainly call a halt to Shermaus movements, and teach the audacious invader a dear lesson, and send him reeling back on Savannah. But it was now understood that the city of Charleston was being evacuated, in anticipation of a visit from Sherman, and its garrison, munitions of war and military stores were being removed* to Cheraw, which place the rebels had chosen for their new base of operations, as this was considered the most secure point they had from the invasion of our armies.
We also learned, through the new prisoners, that General Stoneman, with a heavy cavalry force, had set out through East Tennessee, and headed toward Columbia, to cooperate with Sherman. This news was so well founded that we began to "sniff the battle from afar," and thought we could now see a glimmer of hope. Sherman, with his back to the coast, and Charleston as a base for supplies, was out of danger of being cut off, and could deal some heavy blows at the heart of the Confederacy. This gave us hope. If our

96

FIVE mryDHED DAYS IN KEtiEl PHISON8.

hardships could only be survived a few weeks or months longer, we should see our friends swoop down and set us free, and then our day of retaliation would be at hand.
Up to this time they had stuck to us like grim death to a dead African, and we believed they would only "let us go when our men came dowu on them and scared them out of their small wits. Then they would seek a more healthful climate.
It seemed to us that we had never before seen as fine speci mens of soldiers as those just captured and turned in amongst us. They were strong, robust, stalwart fellows, and were a great contrast to us poor half-naked, dirt-begrimed, emaci ated and ghostlike wretches, who had been guests of the Southern Confederacy for many long, dreary months, and had been made acquainted with Southern hospitality. The new prisoners seemed very confident that they would have to stay in prison but a short time, as they knew Shermans plans were to pay us a visit, and release the prisoners. They had unbounded faith in "Uncle Billy and his veteran army. Nothing would suit him better, they said, than to have the Johnnies make a stand and indulge him in a battle. It was evident that our Western chieftain was master of the situation, could go just where he pleased, and when he met the enemy could brush them aside.
The simple fact that Sherman could move with 40,000 to 60.000 men through Georgia and South Carolina, and feed his men and animals off the country he passed through, is suificient proof to my mind that the South could have fed their prisoners far better than they did. No excuse need be offered for the rebels starving to death so many thousands of our boys. They could have done better if they would, as can be shown by Shennaus report of the abundance of

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

9?

forage to be obtained on his "March to the Sea," and also through the Carolinas. The rebels in authority simply wanted to destroy the lives of as many as they could of their detested enemies, without taking us out and slaughtering us by the wholesale, by shooting us down. They were aware that their troubles would become somewhat complicated if they resorted to shooting or hanging, which in reality would have been merciful in comparison to the slow method of starving men to death, by inches, in which they would be weeks and months dying.
During the last days of our prison life at Florence there were but few incidents to break the monotony, aside from the arrival of the new prisoners I have mentioned. Lieut. Barrett would nearly every day take out a few of the pris oners and tie them up by the thumbs, for his own amuse ment and pastime, claiming, of course, that they had vio lated some prison rule. He would tie their hands behind them and place a cord around each thumb, then draw the man up until he would be entirely suspended in the air by his thumbs alone, which would cause the most excruciating pain, and make the poor wretch cry out in pitiful wails, and beg the guards for Gods sake to shoot him, kill him, or take him down do anything to put him out of his misery. At such times Barrett would stand and mock them, turning up his face and grinning with a fiendish leer that would have put to shame old Satan himself. He would keep them there until their arms seemed almost to tear from the sockets, and they would become unconscious, when they would be let down and carried inside the prison to die--which they almost invariably did. In fact, I never knew one of these to sur vive his cruel torture.

DIFFERENT MODES OF PUNISHMENT.

CHAPTER
BARRETTS BARBARITIES ADIEU TO FLORENCE FRIENDLY ENEMIES NAVAL EXPLOITS BLUE COATS IN SIGHT OUR GLORIOUS OLD FLAG THE UNION CAMP.
I T would have gratified us in more ways than one if Kilpatrick had borne down on us with his hard riders while we were at Florence. It would have taught the rebels a lesson they would have remembered to their dying day, for the cruelties they had practiced on poor starved, defenseless boys for an alleged infraction of a prison rule, and oftener for no offense whatever. There would have been a consider able demand for hemp and scrubby pines about that time, and they would have been put to good use in suspending Johnnies by the neck, instead of hanging up innocent men by the thumbs, until the victims died of the torture.
Barrett had a great many qualities, and they were all ex tremely bad ones. If he had a single good trait it was en tirely obscured, for I never heard of him doing the least kind act toward a prisoner. The greater authority given him, the more cruel he was. For instance, after the death of old Winder, he acted like a veritable fiend unshackled. When the rations would be brought in, he would gather up an armful of clubs, and after the prisoners had collected in considerable crowds he would rush in and throw his clubs into the crowd, with all the force he could muster. Men
99

100 FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.
had arms broken, and others were crippled in various by these fits of Barretts insane rage. This was the most needless cruelty that I ever saw, as nothing was accomplished by it, except to arouse our wonder that such an ill-tempered fool ever got a position of responsibility even among as hard a crowd as was to be found in the interior of the rebel lious States.
I speak of the cruelties of those in authority around us, through no personal wrongs they ever did me. They did nothing to me save what was done to all my comrades. As I do not court the friendship, or even the conversation, of those I do not like, I most assuredly would not desire it of those for whom I had so little love as I entertained for Boisseaux, Wirz, Winder and Barrett. I would gladly give < them credit for any act of kindness toward the prisoners if they had ever done one, but such a thing I never heard tell of. and I am sure that I never knew them to show a kind disposition toward any one. They cruelly and needlessly did to death 12 of my company, six times as many of the regiment to which I belonged, and thousands of others, by the most cruel inquisition. Up to this time over 25,000 young men had died, in the three prisons I have described, during the time I was confined in them, and these men are re sponsible for the greater part of this unparalleled mortality. No pestilence that ever visited any land ever accom plished its work so completely as did starvation and expos ure in the Southern military prisons, in which the above-named ^ cravens had control.
Nothing new transpired until about the 10th of February when, unexpectedly to us, the first detachments were ordered / to get ready to move. We did not understand why they should move us from there at any time, for we had heard

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN* REBEL PRISONS. 101
no more from Shermans army since the squad of new pris oners were* turned in among us in January. One thousand Were marched out and over to the railroad trdck, and the sick of the first squads, who had been taken out, were left in their huts with no one to draw rations or care for them the same as had been done when the prisoners were taken out of Andersonville in the previous September.
This time I was among the first to go, for which I was not sorry. I had become as well acquainted with Florence and its surroundings as I cared for, and was glad to go to some other place, knowing they could treat us no worse than they had done, even if they took us to the coast and dumped us into the ocean. We would then get a taste of salt, which we had not had for months before. We were loaded into cattle cars and started off in a northeasterly direction. Some of the boys wondered if they had nothing but " freight cars" in the Confederacy, as it had never been our fortune to ride in a passenger coach while we were in captivity.
We ran at a slow pace through the night, and when morn ing came were bearing in the same direction as when we started. The country through which we were passing was a resin, tar and turpentine district. It was level and thickly studded with small pines, from eight to twelve inches in di ameter, for miles on either side of the track. These were scabbed on one side to a height of eighteen or twenty feet. From these the pitch was gathered and taken to the still, where it was prepared for market.
Our old locomotive struggled slowly along, dragging after it the rickety cattle-cars with their load of human freight. The second night came and passed, and when morning dawned we were near Wilmington, N. C., and were passing the rebel fortifications on the Cape Fear river. We ran

102 FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN REBEL PRISONS.
down near the river and were unloaded, went aboard a ferry boat, and were transferred to the opposite shore into Wiiminorton. *VVe were then marched out into another railroad depot, and after waiting some hours and drawing a few crackers we were loaded on another train and moved away in a northerly direction.
We were considerably puzzled to know where they were taking us. We thought possibly they were removing us up to Richmond to pass in grand review before old Jeff, and the rebel War Department. Presently the idea struck me that they were going to start a museum to raise money for chari table enterprises, and that we were being transported to some point for that purpose.
We kept on in the direction we had started until the next morning, when we reached Goldsboro, N. C. Here we were unloaded and marched out east of town, passing through a great swamp where we had to wade in water to our knees. As we struggled through this we reached a thickly timbered elevation of ground. It now seemed to us we were " stolen jewels," and were being hidden.
A camp guard of North Carolina troops was placed around us, and we were soon given rations of corn meal and salt beef in far better quantity than we had been accustomed to receiving. The North Carolina troops were very kind to us, and in several instances expressed a preference to belong to the Union army, claiming that they had been pressed into the Confederate service against their will. They told us that the South was already whipped, the war would soon be ended, and we be sent North to our friends.
This was the first time we had been allowed to converse with our guards, or them with us, to any extent. The North Carolinians were as different from the "Georgia Crackers*

HUNfrREb DATS IN REBEL PRISONS. 108
as it is possible to conceive. They prepared some little com forts for the sick, but none of us had shelter. We gathered leaves to sleep on, and had plenty of wood to cook with and Warm by.
On each following day arrived one thousand of our Flor ence comrades, until our squad numbered 4.000. This only left 1,100 at Florence, and these were mostly sick. We had been here about ten days when there was an alarm at night, and a part of us were hurried out of the swamp, put on board of a waiting train and started for Wilmington. We could not account for this sudden move, but were informed by the guards that a detachment of Union cavalry had reached a point about twenty-five miles from Goldsboro, and they were afraid to keep us here any longer. This news cheered our drooping spirits. It was now evident that they were running us about to keep our folks, who seemed to be closing in on every side, from recapturing us.
When we reached Wilmington we were dumped off and camped out north of town, and the train returned for the rest of the prisoners, who arrived in a couple of days. Here we started a new graveyard, as we had done at every other place where we had been unloaded. We had not been here long when the deep, rumbling sound of distant cannon ading greeted our ears. It came from the direction of the seaboard, causing considerable excitement in Wilmington, and two ironclad gunboats immediately steamed down the river to the scene of hostilities. Forts Fisher and Anderson had been taken by a combined land and naval assault, under command of Gen. Terry, of the land force, and Rear-Admiral Porter, of the navy.
The taking of these two strong forts caused the evacuation of Fort Caswell, and the fleet was moving up the Cape

104 FIVE HUNDRED DAYS /# REtiEL PRlSOtfS.
Fear river towards Wilmington the objective point of the expedition. They had to move slowly and cautiously, having to find and buoy out a channel and take up the torpedoes, which wrere very thick. The torpedoes were too heavy to lift with ordinary boats, and they must ha*e contained a ton of powder. As the fleet neared Fort Caswell the rebels set fire to all woody material, exploding their magazines and burning two of their gunboats the Tallahassee and Chickcbmauga. Now a large fleet of gunboats occupied the river between Caswell and Wilmington. The latter place was hermetically sealed against blockade runners, and no more rebel warships will ever fit out again from this port to prey off the commerce of our country.
The same night three fine steamers (the blockade runners) were captured by the navy, having unfortunately run into the river before hearing of the fall of Fort Fisher, and a fourth was captured the following day. Gen. Cox, on the west side of the river, and Terry on the east, moved up the stream toward Wilmington. The enemys movements were said to have been hastened by the appearance of a sham can vas Monitor, devised by Lieut. Cushing, and sent up the river with the tide, during the night, by Admiral Porter. It wrs designed to explode some of the enemys torpedoes, which it did, and then took a comical position near the rebel entrenchments as if about to shell them.
The next morning Porter prepared a still grander bombardment, but the Fort was already captured. .This gave us the works at Sugar Loaf. The wires connecting the torpe does were cut, the torpedoes speedily removed and the ob structions passed, then the fleet moved up the river to Fort Strong, cooperating with the land force which was pressing Hokes rebel army back on Wilmington. When the gun-

H
I >
^
* ^

BUNDRED DAYS IN REBEL P&ISONS. 105
boats got into position they soon reduced Fort Strong to ruins, the only damage done to the fleet being a rifle-shot from one of the enemys guns which struck the Sassaeus below water-mark, and set her to leaking, but the pumps being kept at work prevented her from sinking. The enemy sent down great floating torpedoes, which were taken up by picket boats and torpedo nets. One got in the wheel of the Osceola and blew her wheel house off and knocked down her bulkhead, but did no damage to the hull.
Gen. Schofield had now joined the expedition with the 23d Corps, and assisting in driving Hoke from his strong works, sent him reeling back on Wilmington. This gave our forces possession of Fort St. Philips. That night the rebels set fire to their stores and destroyed 1,000 bales of cotton, 15,000 barrels of rosin, the extensive cotton sheds and presses, an unfinished ironclad, three steam mills, three large tur pentine works and adjacent wharves, railroad, pontoon bridge, and other property. The next morning Admiral Porter promptly moved his fleet up opposite the town and fired shells into the rear guard of the retreating rebel army.
Thus had been taken, in quick succession, nineteen strong forts, some of them the most formidable works on any river in the world, well equipped and strongly garrisoned. Besides the heavy guns mounted on these works, our men came in possession of about forty pieces of heavy artillery left in the fortifications around Wilmington. They also captured about TOO* prisoners, several thousand dollars worth of commissary stores, and five or six hundred stand of improved rifles of
English pattern. As the rebels abandoned the town they ran a tram out and
loaded on about 2,000 of us by crowding us in almost two deep, and hurriedly moved away toward Goldsboro, leaving

106 FIVE HUNDRED DA YS IN ttEE^L PXlSONS.
about half of our number to fall into the hands of our friends. This was simply maddening to us to be moved away out of the very grasp of our forces, and sent to an-
other prison. "When we reached Goldsboro we were returned to the
same camp we had left but a few days before, where we re mained several days impatiently waiting for something to take place that would give us our freedom. About the last days of February the rebel officers came among us with parole papers for us to sign. After all had been paroled, about 800 were ordered out and put on board a train and sent southward, toward Wilmingtoii. This again revived our spirits, as we believed the long looked-for time had come. The next day came, and the next, and so on, with no signs of the rest of us going. We did not know where those had gone who had been taken away on parole, and we began to think the rebels were playing us a trick to get us still to an-
other pen. The days seemed to drag miserably slow. As the vernal
season opened up before us, and the birds flitted hither and thither with their merry songs of springtime, and seemed to enjoy their freedom, I almost wished myself a member of the feathered tribe that I, too, might be happy. At length rumors began to reach us of Shermans near approach, and it was evident that we would soon have to be removed from this jJlace, or taken in by "Uncle Billys" bummers, who were in the habit of doing things for all they were worth. We began to see signs of something unusual. Preparations were being made to oppose Sherman, or evacuate the place, we could not tell which. Finally, orders came to move us away, and we were loaded on a tram of flat cars, something unusual to us, and with two meal sacks on the engine as a

--^ 9

1 * **

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS. lot
flag of truce, the train pulled out towards Wilmington, leav ing a few unburied dead in camp, as we had done in every place from which we had been taken before, who knew no exchange except in the unknown Beyond!
As we passed on we came to a rebel camp stretching across the country, on each side of the railroad, as far as we could see, with earthworks thrown up as if they expected some thing to take place there. Our train made a halt here, and after a short conversation between the officers of these forces and those in charge of us the train moved forward and was soon beyond the rebel pickets. Some distance from this we could see cavalry scouts who wore blue coats. This began to make us think of "Gods country," which we had so longed to see and be in.
Toward night we came to a company of Union sharp shooters on outpost. Here the train stopped and we piled off without orders, and could not be got into line to be counted. We paid no attention to the orders given by the rebel officers, as their authority had ceased to be. When all were off, the white-livered, trembling rebel guards and offi cers in charge mounted, and the train backed away to other fields of labor. A mile from here lay a brigade of Schofields army. Those of us who could walk made for the camp, with all possible haste.
Some walked, others hobbled, and many crawled, until the road was lined with men the whole distance. Boys who had to be loaded on the train by their comrades, could almost walk, as they put in force all the energy they possessed.
The place we reached our lines was in the timber, a dozen miles or so north of Wilmington, on a small stream tributary to Cape Fear river, over which our troops had laid a pontoon bridge. When the head of our column (if it could be called

108 FIVE HUNDRED DAYS IN REBEL PRISONS.

_

vf

so) reached the river, we could see on the opposite side,

gracefully waving in the evening breeze, THE GLORIONS OLD

FLAG ! more beautiful, it appeared to me, than anything I .

ever beheld. We shouted, and cheered, and cried and

laughed until we were hoarse. Some fell to the ground,

and burying their faces in their hands wept and sobbed until

they were removed by our soldiers. It seemed as if our cup

of happiness would surely run over. We felt that we had

seen the "salvation of the Lord." That which we had

longed for, toiled for, and had been prayed for by the per

ishing thousands of Belle Isle, Andersonville and Florence,

had now come to a few survivors of that immense throng.

This was the happiest day of my life. But so short a 9

time before in one of the worst hells ever provided for man, t,

and nmc--A FREE MAX, standing beneath the folds of the old

flag! Wiping the tears from my eyes I, like others, was

almost overcome with joy ; and had it then been my lot to

die, as it was that of hundreds of others, I could have de- *

parted in peace under the protecting folds of the Banner of

the Free.

__ .._ -t-.j. ilr. ,*

CHAPTER XIX.
AMONG FRIENDS AT LAST----BOUND NORTHWARD--PHASES OP
LIFE AT SEA--ARRIVAL AT ANNAPOLIS, MARYLAND----
HOME AND MOTHER--CONCLUSION.
O UR little band was in a most wofui condition. We were merely living skeletons, scores of whom were as naked as when they made their ingress into this world, and none of us were much better off than these. Our long, matted hair, louse-infested rags, and dirt-begrimed faces, necks and hands, our muscle-shrunken limbs and sunken eyes were truly a sickening sight to our brethren in arms to whom we had been sent. They heaped curses on the rebels in authority, and swore to avenge our great wrongs if an opportunity presented itself. I am satisfied it was fortunate for the rebels that the war was about at an end, otherwise they would have been treated in a manner hitherto unheard of, and which they so richly deserved.
Our boys furnished us with blankets with which to cover our nakedness, regardless of the myriads of "gray backs" they would come into possession of thereby, and set to work to gather leaves for us to lay on, built generous fires for us to warm by, and, in fact, did everything they could think of to make us comfortable. ,The doctors gave each man a little stimulant, prescribed medicines for the sick, and ordered that only a limited amount of food should be given, and that
109

110 FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.
\f5
of the most wholesome kind. They boiled coffee and rice

and fried a little bacon, and to this was added hard tack and sugar for our coffee. We thought this was the most riotous luxury, to have all these things at once, and also a big fire to warm by and blanket to sleep on! We did not realize that it was what our men in the field had every day, and

with some additions even to this.

After our supper of hard tack, rice, meat and hot coffee,

and a small issue of spirits, we roused up and became quite

talkative and gave to our officers and men the story of the cruel treatment we had received at the hands of our enemies

while in captivity. Our unused-to cup of coffee made us

very wakeful, and it was late in the night before many of us

laid down to sleep. It was our first night of freedom, and

f\

we wanted to enjoy it, and we did not lack for company, as

our men were anxious to learn all they could of prison life,

andi remained with us as long as any one of us would act as

n*

spokesman.

We arose the next morning, with the sun shining warm

and bright, in sympathy with our feelings, but to many of

our squad it aroused no animation, but shed its warm rays on pale, haggard faces on which deaths cold chill had for ever settled.

The dead lay on their bed of leaves, which had been pre

pared by kind and willing hands just the night before, with

open mouths, fleshless faces and limbs .and bony hands, as in

n

the last agonies of lifes struggle.

"The ice chill has fallen on many a heart,

The snow upon many a brow,

/,

And sad tears upon pale cheeks start

Where never they slept till now.

-1' ~rtf -

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS. Ill
The roses that bloomed in other days Have passed from mortal view;
The hope stars they watched, with fickle rays, Are fled, like the morning dew."
We were sent from here to Wilmington with an empty supply train, and there assigned some cotton sheds to await transportation to Annapolis, Md. We were here given the liberty to go where we pleased, unmolested by the guards on duty, the only trouble being that it was not fashionable for us to mingle with our fellow men with only the covering that nature had provided. When we would take a walk to see the sights, and chanced to meet a Southern lady, she would, invariably, give us the whole sidewalk which we considered very polite of her. I presume they thought we were specimens of the inhabitants of the South Sea Islands, dressed in our native costume, and, as foreigners, entitled to considerable courtesy.
Those of us who were able went about over the burnt dis tricts, and took a good look at the effects of war. Many thousand dollars worth of property had been needlessly destroyed by the fleeing rebels, when they evacuated the city. We took a good survey of some of the fortifications, and the great guns that had been used in defense of the city, many of which had been purchased in foreign ports and brought over before the blockade was established. We saw several different specimens of heavy ordinance here that we had never seen elsewhere.
We had not been here but two or three days when a fleet of steamers came up the river with supplies for the army. They had recently carried North paroled prisoners from the prison south of this point, and those who had left us at Goldsboro a few weeks before. When they were relieved of

112 FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

their cargo we were taken on board of those that were about ^

to return. It fell to my lot to get passage on the General

Lyon, a huge steam and sail vessel the largest boat I had

ever seen.

***

When all was ready, a small tug gave a shrill whistle and

pulled out down the river, followed by the boats, hi regular

order, each one keeping in the wake of the one that preceded

it. We were told that this was done to prevent accidents

from running against torpedoes.

As we passed down stream we could see the great forts on

either side of the river, most of which had been dismantled.

It seemed almost impossible that our forces could have taken

them, as our assaulting parties but little exceeded those

inside the works. As we neared the coast the river widened

into a great sheet of water, almost into a lake. We could

now look ahead and see the ocean and its rolling waves,

which seemed considerably higher than where we were.

When we had run down opposite Fort Fisher we cast anchor , <

and remained there until morning. The reason of our delay

I never knew, and I had been in the army long enough never

to inquire where we were going or how long we should be

gone, as it was generally understood that a common soldier

should know nothing except what he was ordered to do.

The time came to go, and the vessels moved out of the har

bor in about the same manner in which we had leftWilming-

ton, and were soon being tossed about on the waves of the

great Atlantic.

f\

Our vessels stood directly out to sea, and in a short time

we were out of sight of land. Look in any direction, and

the waters seemed to border the skies. This was a new

experience to the most of us, and, our circumstances con

sidered, it was not altogether a pleasant one. We were all

ir

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS. lit

/ ordered below, and told to remain there until farther orders,

but one of the 67th Ohio and myself insisted on disobeying

orders and took up our quarters on the hurricane deck,

between some broad plank that were lashed to the stay-rods

of the masts and smoke stacks. Here we remained during

the entire voyage, and thereby escaped a violent spell of sea

sickness.

The second day out I went below after rations, and when

I raised the hatchway, what a smell greeted my nose! Each

mothers son of them was too sick to hold his head up, and

it seemed as though they had cast up all the grub they had

eaten since we reached our lines. I filled a little sack I had

(a half of an old shirt-sleeve), got out of there as soon as

possible and joined my chum on deck. A heavy fog began

to settle around us, and in a few hours it became so dense

that a person could not see from one side of the vessel to the

other, which caused us to run very slowly. I suppose this

was to prevent accident by colliding with other vessels that

were passing.

The third day the wind began to blow, and in a short time

cleared away the fog and left us on a terribly rough sea.

Our boat was tossed about with seemingly as much ease as

one would toss a ball. First, she would ride a great wave

and go up so high that it seemed as though she were sus

pended in the air, with the waters scooped out on either

side, like immense troughs. Then she would go down into

this trough, and the immense waves, with their rolling white

caps, would be above us on each side, as if intent on over

riding and swallowing our vessel and its precious freight,

and carrying it to the bottom of the ocean. About this tune

I would have given all the interest I had or ever expected to

have in the Atlantic ocean for one square pod of dry land.

114 FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS.

However, I could not get a trade just then, as stock of that

kind was not on sale; but I got through all right and have

my interest in the great briny deep yet and Ill not "be

after selling it," either.

As we neared Fortress Monroe, the waters calmed down,

and it became real pleasant. The sun shone out brightly,

and the men below having recovered from their sea-sickness,

had come on deck, cleaned up as well as they could, and

were ready to enjoy the rest of their voyage. When we

reached the mouth of Chesapeake Bay the surface of the

water up the bay, toward the setting sun, was as smooth as

a pane of glass, and presented a beautiful sight. Here we

passed our blockade squadron.

We reached Annapolis at night and remained on the boat

until morning, when we disembarked, and were taken a

short distance from the landing to a row of bath-houses.

Here we formed in single line and marched past clerks who

took our name, company and regiment, when and where cap

tured and when released. We then received a full suit of

clothes, and were taken inside the building and had our hair

cut, after which two strong men would take one of us and

put us in a bath tub with warm soap suds, and go to work

removing the prison grime. This done, they would wipe us

dry and put on our new suit of Uncle Sams army blue. In

less than an hour we were all served hi this manner, and

turned into comfortable barracks, as happy as so many jay

birds.

l

We received 25 cents per day commutation money for the

time we had been in prison. With my money in my pocket,

I went a little way to a grocery and eating house where I f

got my dinner, and was weighed with my full uniform on,

including my overcoat I weighed just 66 pounds or 49

$
i *
|* [

FIVE HUNDRED DATS IN REBEL PRISONS. 115
pounds less than I weighed when I was captured. A man with a good sized hand could reach around my leg above the knee, with one hand, and my clothes hung as gracefully on me as a shirt on a bean pole.
Those of our squad who belonged to the Army of the Potpmac were put in parole camp here, those of the Army of the Tennessee and Cumberland were sent to Columbus, Ohio, and those from the farther Western States were for warded to St Louis. On our arrival at the latter city we were sent to Benton Barracks, where we gave our name, company, regiment, etc., as we had done at Annapolis. When I gave my name to the clerk a bystander, who had come in on a train the night before, stepped up and told me that I had a brother there sick, who had been in prison at Salisbury, N. C., and belonged to his Company A, 19th Wisconsin regiment.
As soon as the officer was through with me I repaired to the barracks, where my brother lay sick with a fever. I set to work to get transportation and furloughs for us twain, which was accomplished in a day or two, and we took a train for our home, far away in the old Badger State, the inmates of which had long ceased to look for our coming, and never expected to see us again in this world, as my brother had been reported killed at Petersburg, Va., but, instead, he was wounded and captured; and my two cousins, whom I have before mentioned as having come to me at Andersonville, and were afterward exchanged, reported to my mother by letter that I was hopelessly sick, and would never live to see home again, and at this time she was mourning the loss of the two youngest of her four sons whom she had offered as a sacrifice to her country.

116 FITS HUNDRED DA TS IN REBEL PRISONS.

Parents mourn for their children with the bitterness of t
despair. When the widowed mother is deprived of her chil-

dren she loses everything but the capacity for suffering. Her 'f*

heart, withered and desolate, admits no other object, cherishes

no other hope. It is Eachel weeping for her children, and

refusing to be comforted because they are not!

As the sun was sinking out of sight in the west on the

17th of April, 1865, a carriage drove up to the old home

stead, bearing as its burden two skeletons my brother and

I. My mother was called to the door, and after a few min

utes conversation, the driver asked her if she could not rec

ognize these two boys. She said she did not know that she

had ever seen them before, but, as they had on the soldiers

uniform, and looked as though they might be sick, they had W

better get out and come in which invitation we accepted.

,

I will not attempt to describe the scene that followed, but

leave it to the imagination of the reader. Similar scenes ,+

were being enacted about the same time, throughout the

length and breadth of the land.

I remained at home a few days until I got recruited up a

little, and then went to Davenport, Iowa, where I was dis

charged, May 8th, 1865.

My brother, who came home with me, afterwards died.

r

riTS BUNDEED DATS IN BEZEL PRISONS. 11?

/
; ,.
4
\ !T I Jt i- i

CONCLUSION.
No one knows the disadvantage and disappointment my prison life has been to me. Before my capture I had high ambition, and intended, when I left the service, to choose some profession that my remaining years might be turned to good account for myself and the community in which I might live. But when I came out of prison I was so debili tated and indisposed that I had to spend all I had saved to pay doctors bills, and was compelled to adopt my present occupation that of farming. Hence the disadvantage, and hence the disappointment.
In conclusion, I will say that I have underdrawn the pic ture. I confess that I have not the talent or language at command to properly portray the terrible sufferings of those who languished and died in rebel prisons. The 7,000 graves of our Union dead at Belle Isle will speak for that place; 13,715 graves at Andersonville will bear witness at that loathsome pen, while, in further testimony, I would cite the reader to the nearly 6,000 graves at Florence, S. C., and those of hundreds of others who died while in transit from one prison to another and were dumped off and buried along the hundreds of miles of railway in the South; and if their graves are marked at all they bear this inscription : "UN-
KNOWN."
When I look back over that terrible human slaughter, I do not wonder that the historian has shrunk from the unpleasant task of making up the record, as it would form one of the blackest pages in the annals of our countrys history, and remain an everlasting stain on American civilization.

118

FIVE tiU2^J)ItED DAYS m JMXJMUJJ JTMJ.& \SJXKJ.

^ 1^ T>

That such scenes may never again be enacted in this fair

land; that future generations may be blest with the olive *

branch of peace and prosperity, from the snow-flecked hills 7-

of the North, the favorite haunts of the antlered elk and

moose, southward to the alligator infested lagoons of the

Creole State, and from Passamaquoddy westward to San

Diego, is my last earnest wish.

THE END

t I

L

ROLL OF HOHOR FIFTH IOWA fflFJUTRT.

GRAYS TO.

John C. Stout (A), April 9, 1884................. Andersonvffle 451

CharlesD.Tevis (A), Aug. 24,1864.............. "

6687

Daniel BixlerfB), Sept. 27, 1864................. "

9846

Silas Cooper (B), July 9,1864.................... "

6101

Isaac M. Loudenback (B), Sept. 21,1864......... "

9438

David R. Loudenback (B), Oct. 2,1864..........

10224

John M. Volk (B), Oct. 4, 1864.................. "

10351

Cor. Samuel B. Culbertson (H), Sept. 7,1864.... "

8062

Robert J. H. Huffman (H), June 19, 1864........ "

2168

Geo. W. Overtuff (H), Sept. 22, 1864............ "

9509

Samuel Sutton (H), July 28,1864................ "

4178

John P. Shuffleton (H), April 17,1864........... "

599

Milton W. Shaw(H), Nov.4,1864............... "

11789

AlbertT.Welliver (K)..........................

Josiah A. Whitten(H), Oct. 18,1864............. "

11114

Job M. Field (K), July 21,1864.................. "

8705

i MathewT. Sparks (K), July9, 1864............. "

8060

A Wm.Tippery(K) June 15,1864.................. "

1981

James W. Cowles (K), Sept. 26,1864.............. "

9784

(

Christian P. Bartshe (K), May 20, 1864.......... Cor. Charles E. Walrath (K), Sept. 7, 1864...... Cor. Franklin Wells (I), June 19,1864...........

" " "

1293 8101 2161

Gender Jacob (I), May30, 1864................

"

1484

Musician Wm. C. Campbell (I), Sept. 11,1864.... "

8457

HenryCox(G), Aug. 21, 1864................... "

6378

Wm. A.Cox(G), Aug. 14,1864.................. "

5622

Edwin D. Cox (G), Aug. 10, 1864................ "

5244

Charles Smith (D), Sept. 18,1864................ "

9209

John Miller (D), Oct. 1,1864.................... "

10110

Andrew Heller (D), May 3,1864................. "

862

Thos. S. Littleton (C), June 16, 1864............ "

2045

W.H. Sayers(E), Oct. 14,1864.................. "

10884

O. K. Whitman (E), June 6,1864................ "

1674

Lawrence Demotte (G), Aug. 3,1864............. "

4675

G. B. McCoy (G), Oct. 13,1864.................. "

10327

Emanuel Myers (G), April 2,1864...............

"

807

M. Thompson (G), July 26,1864................. "

8986

U Philo D. Wilson (G), Oct. 13,1864............... "

10845

F Hannibal Johnson (H).......................... "

4

F. M. Miller (H), May23, 1864.................. "

1817

EdwinBissill (D), Dec. 27,1863......................Bellelsle 8*

William Rattan jfB)..................................Cahawba

Alonzo Rogers (D)................................rebel prison