Andersonville .......................................................................................................................................................1

John McElroy ...........................................................................................................................................1

INTRODUCTION...................................................................................................................................3

AUTHOR'S PREFACE...........................................................................................................................5

CHAPTER I. ............................................................................................................................................7

CHAPTER II. ...........................................................................................................................................9

CHAPTER III........................................................................................................................................13

CHAPTER IV........................................................................................................................................15

CHAPTER V.........................................................................................................................................19

CHAPTER.............................................................................................................................................21

CHAPTER VII. ......................................................................................................................................26

CHAPTER VIII.....................................................................................................................................29

CHAPTER IX........................................................................................................................................32

CHAPTER X.........................................................................................................................................34

CHAPTER XI........................................................................................................................................38

CHAPTER XII. ......................................................................................................................................41

CHAPTER XIII.....................................................................................................................................44

CHAPTER XIV.....................................................................................................................................45

CHAPTER XV......................................................................................................................................47

CHAPTER XVI.....................................................................................................................................49

CHAPTER XVII. ...................................................................................................................................52

CHAPTER XVIII. ..................................................................................................................................53

CHAPTER XIX.....................................................................................................................................55

CHAPTER XX......................................................................................................................................57

CHAPTER XXI.....................................................................................................................................59

CHAPTER XXII. ...................................................................................................................................61

CHAPTER XXIII ...................................................................................................................................63

CHAPTER XXIV..................................................................................................................................65

CHAPTER XXV. ...................................................................................................................................67

CHAPTER XXVI..................................................................................................................................69

CHAPTER XXVII. ................................................................................................................................72

CHAPTER XXVIII ................................................................................................................................73

CHAPTER XXIX..................................................................................................................................75

CHAPTER XXX. ...................................................................................................................................78

CHAPTER XXXI..................................................................................................................................80

CHAPTER XXXII .................................................................................................................................83

CHAPTER XXXIII ................................................................................................................................85

CHAPTER XXXIV...............................................................................................................................87

CHAPTER XXXV .................................................................................................................................89

CHAPTER XXXVI...............................................................................................................................93

CHAPTER XXXVII..............................................................................................................................96

CHAPTER XXXVIII. ..........................................................................................................................101

CHAPTER XXXIX.............................................................................................................................103

CHAPTER XL. ....................................................................................................................................105

CHAPTER XLI. ...................................................................................................................................114

CHAPTER XLII..................................................................................................................................118

CHAPTER XLIII. ................................................................................................................................131

CHAPTER XLIV. ................................................................................................................................134

CHAPTER XLV..................................................................................................................................137

CHAPTER XLVI. ................................................................................................................................140

CHAPTER XLVII...............................................................................................................................144

CHAPTER XLVIII..............................................................................................................................148

CHAPTER XLIX .................................................................................................................................152

CHAPTER L ........................................................................................................................................154

CHAPTER LI......................................................................................................................................160

CHAPTER II. .......................................................................................................................................165

CHAPTER LIII. ...................................................................................................................................167

CHAPTER LIV. ...................................................................................................................................171

CHAPTER LV. ....................................................................................................................................176

CHAPTER LVI. ...................................................................................................................................178

CHAPTER LVII..................................................................................................................................184

CHAPTER LVIII. ................................................................................................................................185

CHAPTER LIX. ...................................................................................................................................187

CHAPTER LX .....................................................................................................................................189

CHAPTER LXI ....................................................................................................................................192

CHAPTER LXII..................................................................................................................................194

CHAPTER LXIII. ................................................................................................................................200

CHAPTER LXIV .................................................................................................................................202

CHAPTER LXV..................................................................................................................................206

CHAPTER LXVI. ................................................................................................................................210

CHAPTER LXVII...............................................................................................................................213

CHAPTER LXVIII..............................................................................................................................217

CHAPTER LXIX. ................................................................................................................................221

CHAPTER LXX..................................................................................................................................224

CHAPTER LXXI .................................................................................................................................225

CHAPTER LXXII...............................................................................................................................229

CHAPTER LXXIII.............................................................................................................................233

CHAPTER LXXIV. .............................................................................................................................235

CHAPTER LXXV...............................................................................................................................238

CHAPTER LXXVI ..............................................................................................................................242

CHAPTER LXXVII .............................................................................................................................247

CHAPTER LXXVIII...........................................................................................................................250

CHAPTER LXXIX. .............................................................................................................................253

CHAPTER LXXX...............................................................................................................................259

CHAPTER LXXXI. .............................................................................................................................266

CHAPTER LXXXIII...........................................................................................................................269

The fifth part of a century almost has sped with the flight of time since the outbreak of the Slaveholder's

Rebellion against the United States. The young men of today were then babes in their cradles, or, if more

than that, too young to be appalled by the terror of the times. Those now graduating from our schools of

learning to be teachers of youth and leaders of public thought, if they are ever prepared to teach the history of

the war for the Union so as to render adequate honor to its martyrs and heroes, and at the same time impress

the obvious moral to be drawn from it, must derive their knowledge from authors who can each one say of the

thrilling story he is spared to tell: "All of which I saw, and part of which I was."

The writer is honored with the privilege of introducing to the reader a volume written by an author who was

an actor and a sufferer in the scenes he has so vividly and faithfully described, and sent forth to the public by

a publisher whose literary contributions in support of the loyal cause entitle him to the highest appreciation.

Both author and publisher have had an honorable and efficient part in the great struggle, and are therefore

worthy to hand down to the future a record of the perils encountered and the sufferings endured by patriotic

soldiers in the prisons of the enemy. The publisher, at the beginning of the war, entered, with zeal and ardor

upon the work of raising a company of men, intending to lead them to the field. Prevented from carrying out

this design, his energies were directed to a more effective service. His famous "Nasby Letters" exposed the

absurd and sophistical argumentations of rebels and their sympathisers, in such broad, attractive and

admirable burlesque, as to direct against them the "loud, long laughter of a world!" The unique and telling

satire of these papers became a power and inspiration to our armies in the field and to their anxious friends at

home, more than equal to the might of whole battalions poured in upon the enemy. An athlete in logic may

lay an error writhing at his feet, and after all it may recover to do great mischief. But the sharp wit of the

humorist drives it before the world's derision into shame and everlasting contempt. These letters were read

and shouted over gleefully at every campfire in the Union Army, and eagerly devoured by crowds of

listeners when mails were opened at country postoffices. Other humorists were content when they simply

amused the reader, but "Nasby's" jests were argumentsthey had a meaningthey were suggested by the

necessities and emergencies of the Nation's peril, and written to support, with all earnestness, a most sacred

The author, when very young, engaged in journalistic work, until the drum of the recruiting officer called him

to join the ranks of his country's defenders. As the reader is told, he was made a prisoner. He took with him

into the terrible prison enclosure not only a brave, vigorous, youthful spirit, but invaluable habits of mind and

thought for storing up the incidents and experiences of his prison life. As a journalist he had acquired the

habit of noticing and memorizing every striking or thrilling incident, and the experiences of his prison life

were adapted to enstamp themselves indelibly on both feeling and memory. He speaks from personal

experience and from the standpaint of tender and complete sympathy with those of his comrades who

suffered more than he did himself. Of his qualifications, the writer of these introductory words need not

speak. The sketches themselves testify to his ability with such force that no commendation is required.

This work is needed. A generation is arising who do not know what the preservation of our free government

cost in blood and suffering. Even the men of the passing generation begin to be forgetful, if we may judge

from the recklessness or carelessness of their political action. The soldier is not always remembered nor

honored as he should be. But, what to the future of the great Republic is more important, there is great danger

of our people underestimating the bitter animus and terrible malignity to the Union and its defenders

cherished by those who made war upon it. This is a point we can not afford to be mistaken about. And yet,

right at this point this volume will meet its severest criticism, and at this point its testimony is most vital and

Many will be slow to believe all that is here told most truthfully of the tyranny and cruelty of the captors of

our brave boys in blue. There are no parallels to the cruelties and malignities here described in Northern

society. The system of slavery, maintained for over two hundred years at the South, had performed a most

perverting, morally desolating, and we might say, demonizing work on the dominant race, which people bred

under our free civilization can not at once understand, nor scarcely believe when it is declared unto them.

This reluctance to believe unwelcome truths has been the snare of our national life. We have not been willing

to believe how hardened, despotic, and cruel the wielders of irresponsible power may become.

When the antislavery reformers of thirty years ago set forth the cruelties of the slave system, they were met

with a storm of indignant denial, villification and rebuke. When Theodore D. Weld issued his "Testimony of

a Thousand Witnesses," to the cruelty of slavery, he introduced it with a few words, pregnant with sound

philosophy, which can be applied to the work now introduced, and may help the reader better to accept and

Suppose I should seize you, rob you of your liberty, drive you into the field, and make you work without pay

as long as you lived. Would that be justice? Would it be kindness? Or would it be monstrous injustice and

cruelty? Now, is the man who robs you every day too tenderhearted ever to cuff or kick you? He can empty

your pockets without remorse, but if your stomach is empty, it cuts him to the quick. He can make you work

a lifetime without pay, but loves you too well to let you go hungry. He fleeces you of your rights with a

relish, but is shocked if you work bareheaded in summer, or without warm stockings in winter. He can make

you go without your liberty, but never without a shirt. He can crush in you all hope of bettering your

condition by vowing that you shall die his slave, but though he can thus cruelly torture your feelings, he will

never lacerate your backhe can break your heart, but is very tender of your skin. He can strip you of all

protection of law, and all comfort in religion, and thus expose you to all outrages, but if you are exposed to

the weather, halfclad and halfsheltered, how yearn his tender bowels! What! talk of a man treating you

well while robbing you of all you get, and as fast as you get it? And robbing you of yourself, too, your hands

and feet, your muscles, limbs and senses, your body and mind, your liberty and earnings, your free speech

and rights of conscience, your right to acquire knowledge, property and reputation, and yet you are content to

believe without question that men who do all this by their slaves have soft hearts oozing out so lovingly

toward their human chattles that they always keep them well housed and well clad, never push them too hard

in the field, never make their dear backs smart, nor let their dear stomachs get empty!"

In like manner we may ask, are not the cruelties and oppressions described in the following pages what we

should legitimately expect from men who, all their lives, have used whip and thumbscrew, shotgun and

bloodhound, to keep human beings subservient to their will? Are we to expect nothing but chivalric

tenderness and compassion from men who made war on a tolerant government to make more secure their

These things are written because they are true. Duty to the brave dead, to the heroic living, who have endured

the pangs of a hundred deaths for their country's sake; duty to the government which depends on the wisdom

and constancy of its good citizens for its support and perpetuity, calls for this "round, unvarnished tale" of

The publisher of this work urged his friend and associate in journalism to write and send forth these sketches

because the times demanded just such an expose of the inner hell of the Southern prisons. The tender mercies

of oppressors are cruel. We must accept the truth and act in view of it. Acting wisely on the warnings of the

past, we shall be able to prevent treason, with all its fearful concomitants, from being again the scourge and

Fifteen months agoand one month before it was begunI had no more idea of writing this book than I

While I have always been deeply impressed with the idea that the public should know much more of the

history of Andersonville and other Southern prisons than it does, it had never occurred to me that I was in any

No affected deprecation of my own abilities had any part is this. I certainly knew enough of the matter, as did

every other boy who had even a month's experience in those terrible places, but the very magnitude of that

knowledge overpowered me, by showing me the vast requirements of the subjectrequirements that seemed

to make it presumption for any but the greatest pens in our literature to attempt the work. One day at

Andersonville or Florence would be task enough for the genius of Carlyle or Hugo; lesser than they would

fail preposterously to rise to the level of the theme. No writer ever described such a deluge of woes as swept

over the unfortunates confined in Rebel prisons in the last yearandahalf of the Confederacy's life. No man

was ever called upon to describe the spectacle and the process of seventy thousand young, strong,

ablebodied men, starving and rotting to death. Such a gigantic tragedy as this stuns the mind and benumbs

I no more felt myself competent to the task than to accomplish one of Michael Angelo's grand creations in

Study of the subject since confirms me in this view, and my only claim for this book is that it is a

contributiona record of individual observation and experiencewhich will add something to the material

The work was begun at the suggestion of Mr. D. R. Locke, (Petroleum V. Nasby), the eminent political

satirist. At first it was only intended to write a few short serial sketches of prison life for the columns of the

TOLEDO BLADE. The exceeding favor with which the first of the series was received induced a great

I know that what is contained herein will be bitterly denied. I am prepared for this. In my boyhood I

witnessed the savagery of the Slavery agitationin my youth I felt the fierceness of the hatred directed

against all those who stood by the Nation. I know that hell hath no fury like the vindictiveness of those who

are hurt by the truth being told of them. I apprehend being assailed by a sirocco of contradiction and calumny.

But I solemnly affirm in advance the entire and absolute truth of every material fact, statement and

description. I assert that, so far from there being any exaggeration in any particular, that in no instance has the

half of the truth been told, nor could it be, save by an inspired pen. I am ready to demonstrate this by any test

that the deniers of this may require, and I am fortified in my position by unsolicited letters from over 3,000

surviving prisoners, warmly indorsing the account as thoroughly accurate in every respect.

It has been charged that hatred of the South is the animus of this work. Nothing can be farther from the truth.

No one has a deeper love for every part of our common country than I, and no one today will make more

efforts and sacrifices to bring the South to the same plane of social and material development with the rest of

the Nation than I will. If I could see that the sufferings at Andersonville and elsewhere contributed in any

considerable degree to that end, and I should not regret that they had been. Blood and tears mark every, step

in the progress of the race, and human misery seems unavoidable in securing human advancement. But I am

naturally embittered by the fruitlessness, as well as the uselessness of the misery of Andersonville. There was

never the least military or other reason for inflicting all that wretchedness upon men, and, as far as mortal eye

can discern, no earthly good resulted from the martyrdom of those tens of thousands. I wish I could see some

hope that their wantonly shed blood has sown seeds that will one day blossom, and bear a rich fruitage of

The years 18645 were a season of desperate battles, but in that time many more Union soldiers were slain

behind the Rebel armies, by starvation and exposure, than were killed in front of them by cannon and rifle.

The country has heard much of the heroism and sacrifices of those loyal youths who fell on the field of battle;

but it has heard little of the still greater number who died in prison pen. It knows full well how grandly her

sons met death in front of the serried ranks of treason, and but little of the sublime firmness with which they

endured unto the death, all that the ingenious cruelty of their foes could inflict upon them while in captivity.

It is to help supply this deficiency that this book is written. It is a mite contributed to the better remembrance

by their countrymen of those who in this way endured and died that the Nation might live. It is an offering of

testimony to future generations of the measureless cost of the expiation of a national sin, and of the

This is a11. I know I speak for all those still living comrades who went with me through the scenes that I

have attempted to describe, when I say that we have no revenges to satisfy, no hatreds to appease. We do not

ask that anyone shall be punished. We only desire that the Nation shall recognize and remember the grand

fidelity of our dead comrades, and take abundant care that they shall not have died in vain.

For the great mass of Southern people we have only the kindliest feeling. We but hate a vicious social system,

the lingering shadow of a darker age, to which they yield, and which, by elevating bad men to power, has

The following story does not claim to be in any sense a history of Southern prisons. It is simply a record of

the experience of one individualone boywho staid all the time with his comrades inside the prison, and

had no better opportunities for gaining information than any other of his 60,000 companions.

The majority of the illustrations in this work are from the skilled pencil of Captain O. J. Hopkins, of Toledo,

who served through the war in the ranks of the Fortysecond Ohio. His army experience has been of peculiar

value to the work, as it has enabled him to furnish a series of illustrations whose lifelike fidelity of action,

Some thirty of the pictures, including the frontispiece, and the allegorical illustrations of War and Peace, are

A word as to the spelling: Having always been an ardent believer in the reformation of our present

preposterous systemor rather, no systemof orthography, I am anxious to do whatever lies in my power

to promote it. In the following pages the spelling is simplified to the last degree allowed by Webster. I hope

that the time is near when even that advanced spelling reformer will be left far in the rear by the progress of a

people thoroughly weary of longer slavery to the orthographical absurdities handed down to us from a remote

The handbreadth cloud the sages feared Its bloody rain is dropping; The poison plant the fathers spared All

else is overtopping. East, West, South, North, It curses the earth; All justice dies, And fraud and lies Live

Then let the selfish lip be dumb And hushed the breath of sighing; Before the joy of peace must come The

pains of purifying. God give us grace Each in his place To bear his lot, And, murmuring not, Endure and wait

A low, square, plainlyhewn stone, set near the summit of the eastern approach to the formidable natural

fortress of Cumberland Gap, indicates the boundaries ofthe three great States of Virginia, Kentucky and

Tennessee. It is such a place as, remembering the old Greek and Roman myths and superstitions, one would

recognize as fitting to mark the confines of the territories of great masses of strong, aggressive, and

frequently conflicting peoples. There the god Terminus should have had one of his chief temples, where his

shrine would be shadowed by barriers rising above the clouds, and his sacred solitude guarded from the rude

invasion of armed hosts by range on range of battlemented rocks, crowning almost inaccessible mountains,

Roundabout the land is full of strangeness and mystery. The throes of some great convulsion of Nature are

written on the face of the four thousand square miles of territory, of which Cumberland Gap is the central

point. Miles of granite mountains are thrust up like giant walls, hundreds of feet high, and as smooth and

Huge, fantasticallyshaped rocks abound everywheresometimes rising into pinnacles on lofty

summitssometimes hanging over the verge of beetling cliffs, as if placed there in waiting for a time when

they could be hurled down upon the path of an advancing army, and sweep it away.

Large streams of water burst out in the most unexpected planes, frequently far up mountain sides, and fall in

silver veils upon stones beaten round by the ceaseless dash for ages. Caves, rich in quaintly formed stalactites

and stalagmites, and their recesses filled with metallic salts of the most powerful and diverse natures; break

the mountain sides at frequent intervals. Everywhere one is met by surprises and anomalies. Even the rank

vegetation is eccentric, and as prone to develop into bizarre forms as are the rocks and mountains.

The dreaded panther ranges through the primeval, rarely trodden forests; every crevice in the rocks has for

tenants rattlesnakes or stealthy copperheads, while long, wonderfully swift "blue racers" haunt the edges of

the woods, and linger around the fields to chill his blood who catches a glimpse of their upreared heads, with

The human events happening here have been in harmony with the natural ones. It has always been a land of

conflict. In 1540339 years ago De Soto, in that energetic but fruitless search for gold which occupied

his later years, penetrated to this region, and found it the fastness of the Xualans, a bold, aggressive race,

continually warring with its neighbors. When next the white man reached the countrya century and a half

laterhe found the Xualans had been swept away by the conquering Cherokees, and he witnessed there the

most sanguinary contest between Indians of which our annals give any accounta pitched battle two days in

duration, between the invading Shawnees, who lorded it over what is now Kentucky, Ohio and Indianaand

the Cherokees, who dominated the country the southeast of the Cumberland range. Again the Cherokees were

Then the white man delivered battle for the possession the land, and bought it with the lives of many gallant

adventurers. Half a century later Boone and his hardy companion followed, and forced their way into

Another half century saw the Gap the favorite haunt of the greatest of American banditsthe noted John A.

Murrelland his gang. They infested the country for years, now waylaying the trader or drover threading his

toilsome way over the lone] mountains, now descending upon some little town, to plunder its stores and

At length Murrell and his band were driven out, and sought a new field of operations on the Lower

Mississippi. They left germs behind them, however, that developed into horse thieve counterfeiters, and later

When the Rebellion broke out the region at once became th theater of military operations. Twice Cumberland

Gap was seized by the Rebels, and twice was it wrested away from them. In 1861 it was the point whence

Zollicoffer launched out with his legions to "liberate Kentucky," and it was whither they fled, beaten and

shattered, after the disasters of Wild Cat and Mill Springs. In 1862 Kirby Smith led his army through the Gap

on his way to overrun Kentucky and invade the North. Three months later his beaten forces sought refuge

from their pursuers behind its impregnable fortifications. Another year saw Burnside burst through the Gap

with a conquering force and redeem loyal East Tennessee from its Rebel oppressors.

Had the South ever been able to separate from the North the boundary would have been established along this

Between the main ridge upon which Cumberland Gap is situated, and the next range on the southeast which

runs parallel with it, is a narrow, long, very fruitful valley, walled in on either side for a hundred miles by tall

mountains as a City street is by high buildings. It is called Powell's Valley. In it dwell a simple, primitive

people, shut out from the world almost as much as if they lived in New Zealand, and with the speech,

manners and ideas that their fathers brought into the Valley when they settled it a century ago. There has been

but little change since then. The young men who have annually driven cattle to the distant markets in

Kentucky, Tennessee and Virginia, have brought back occasional stray bits of finery for the "women folks,"

and the latest improved fire arms for themselves, but this is about all the innovations the progress of the

world has been allowed to make. Wheeled vehicles are almost unknown; men and women travel on

horseback as they did a century ago, the clothing is the product of the farm and the busy looms of the women,

and life is as rural and Arcadian as any ever described in a pastoral. The people are rich in cattle, hogs,

horses, sheep and the products of the field. The fat soil brings forth the substantials of life in opulent plenty.

Having this there seems to be little care for more. Ambition nor avarice, nor yet craving after luxury, disturb

their contented souls or drag them away from the nonprogressive round of simple life bequeathed them by

As the Autumn of 1863 advanced towards Winter the difficulty of supplying the forces concentrated around

Cumberland Gapas well as the rest of Burnside's army in East Tennesseebecame greater and greater.

The base of supplies was at Camp Nelson, near Lexington, Ky., one hundred and eighty miles from the Gap,

and all that the Army used had to be hauled that distance by mule teams over roads that, in their best state

were wretched, and which the copious rains and heavy traffic had rendered wellnigh impassable. All the

country to our possession had been drained of its stock of whatever would contribute to the support of man or

beast. That portion of Powell's Valley extending from the Gap into Virginia was still in the hands of the

Rebels; its stock of products was as yet almost exempt from military contributions. Consequently a raid was

projected to reduce the Valley to our possession, and secure its much needed stores. It was guarded by the

Sixtyfourth Virginia, a mounted regiment, made up of the young men of the locality, who had then been in

Maj. C. H. Beer's third Battalion, Sixteenth Illinois Cavalryfour companies, each about 75 strongwas

sent on the errand of driving out the Rebels and opening up the Valley for our foraging teams. The writer was

invited to attend the excursion. As he held the honorable, but not very lucrative position of "high, private" in

Company L, of the Battalion, and the invitation came from his Captain, he did not feel at liberty to decline.

He went, as private soldiers have been in the habit of doing ever since the days of the old Centurion, who said

with the characteristic boastfulness of one of the lower grades of commissioned officers when he happens to

For I am also a man set under authority, having under me soldiers, and I say unto one, Go; and he goeth; and

Rather "airy" talk that for a man who nowadays would take rank with Captains of infantry.

Three hundred of us responded to the signal of "boots and saddles," buckled on three hundred more or less

trusty sabers and revolvers, saddled three hundred more or less gallant steeds, came into line "as companies"

with the automatic listlessness of the old soldiers, "counted off by fours" in that queer gamutrunning style

that makes a company of men "counting off"each shouting a number in a different voice from his

neighborsound like running the scales on some great organ badly out of tune; something like this:

Then, as the bugle sounded "Right forward! fours right!" we moved off at a walk through the melancholy

mist that soaked through the very fiber of man and horse, and reduced the minds of both to a condition of

Whither we were going we knew not, nor cared. Such matters had long since ceased to excite any interest. A

cavalryman soon recognizes as the least astonishing thing in his existence the signal to "Fall in!" and start

somewhere. He feels that he is the "Poor Joe" of the Armyunder perpetual orders to "move on."

Down we wound over the road that zigtagged through the forts, batteries and riflepits covering the eastern

ascent to the Flappast the wonderful Murrell Springsocalled because the robber chief had killed, as he

stooped to drink of its crystal waters, a rich drover, whom he was pretending to pilot through the

mountainsdown to where the "Virginia road" turned off sharply to the left and entered Powell's Valley.

The mist had become a chill, dreary rain, through, which we plodded silently, until night closed in around us

some ten miles from the Gap. As we halted to go into camp, an indignant Virginian resented the invasion of

the sacred soil by firing at one of the guards moving out to his place. The guard looked at the fellow

contemptuously, as if he hated to waste powder on a man who had no better sense than to stay out in such a

rain, when he could go indoors, and the bushwhacker escaped, without even a return shot.

Fires were built, coffee made, horses rubbed, and we laid down with feet to the fire to get what sleep we

Before morning we were awakened by the bitter cold. It had cleared off during the night and turned so cold

that everything was frozen stiff. This was better than the rain, at all events. A good fire and a hot cup of

At daylight the bugle sounded "Right forward! fours right!" again, and the 300 of us resumed our onward

In the meantime, other things were taking place elsewhere. Our esteemed friends of the Sixtyfourth

Virginia, who were in camp at the little town of Jonesville, about 40 miles from the Gap, had learned of our

starting up the Valley to drive them out, and they showed that warm reciprocity characteristic of the Southern

soldier, by mounting and starting down the Valley to drive us out. Nothing could be more harmonious, it will

be perceived. Barring the trifling divergence of yews as to who was to drive and who be driven, there was

Our numbers were about equal. If I were to say that they considerably outnumbered us, I would be following

the universal precedent. No soldierhigh or lowever admitted engaging an equal or inferior force of the

About 9 o'clock in the morningSundaythey rode through the streets of Jonesville on their way to give us

battle. It was here that most of the members of the Regiment lived. Every man, woman and child in the town

The women turned out to wave their fathers, husbands, brothers and lovers on to victory. The old men

gathered to give parting counsel and encouragement to their sons and kindred. The Sixtyfourth rode away to

At noon we are still straggling along without much attempt at soldierly order, over the rough, frozen

hillsides. It is yet bitterly cold, and men and horses draw themselves together, as if to expose as little surface

as possible to the unkind elements. Not a word had been spoken by any one for hours.

The head of the column has just reached the top of the hill, and the rest of us are strung along for a quarter of

Suddenly a few shots ring out upon the frosty air from the carbines of the advance. The general apathy is

instantly, replaced by keen attention, and the boys instinctively range themselves into foursthe cavalry unit

of action. The Major, who is riding about the middle of the first CompanyIdashes to the front. A glance

The Company swings around on the hilltop like a great, jointed toy snake. As the fours come into line on a

trot, we see every man draw his saber and revolver. The Company raises a mighty cheer and dashes forward.

Company K presses forward to the ground Company I has just left, the fours sweep around into line, the

sabers and revolvers come out spontaneously, the men cheer and the Company flings itself forward.

All this time we of Company L can see nothing except what the companies ahead of us are doing. We are

wrought up to the highest pitch. As Company K clears its ground, we press forward eagerly. Now we go into

line just as we raise the hill, and as my four comes around, I catch a hurried glimpse through a rift in the

smoke of a line of butternut and gray clad men a hundred yards or so away. Their guns are at their faces, and

I see the smoke and fire spurt from the muzzles. At the same instant our sabers and revolvers are drawn. We

shout in a frenzy of excitement, and the horses spring forward as if shot from a bow.

I see nothing more until I reach the place where the Rebel line stood. Then I find it is gone. Looking beyond

toward the bottom of the hill, I see the woods filled with Rebels, flying in disorder and our men yelling in

pursuit. This is the portion of the line which Companies I and K struck. Here and there are men in butternut

clothing, prone on the frozen ground, wounded and dying. I have just time to notice closely one middleaged

man lying almost under my horse's feet. He has received a carbine bullet through his head and his blood

One brave man, riding a roan horse, attempts to rally his companions. He halts on a little knoll, wheels his

horse to face us, and waves his hat to draw his companions to him. A tall, lank fellow in the next four to

mewho goes by the nickname of "'Leven Yards"aims his carbine at him, and, without checking his

horse's pace, fires. The heavy Sharpe's bullet tears a gaping hole through the Rebel's heart. He drops from his

saddle, his lifeblood runs down in little rills on either side of the knoll, and his riderless horse dashes away

At this instant comes an order for the Company to break up into fours and press on through the forest in

pursuit. My four trots off to the road at the right. A Rebel bugler, who hag been cut off, leaps his horse into

the road in front of us. We all fire at him on the impulse of the moment. He falls from his horse with a bullet

through his back. Company M, which has remained in column as a reserve, is now thundering up close

behind at a gallop. Its seventyfive powerful horses are spurning the solid earth with steelclad hoofs. The

man will be ground into a shapeless mass if left where he has fallen. We spring from our horses and drag him

Late in the afternoon the anxious watchers at Jonesville saw a single fugitive urging his wellnigh spent

horse down the slope of the hill toward town. In an agony of anxiety they hurried forward to meet him and

The first messenger who rushed into Job's presence to announce the beginning of the series of misfortunes

which were to afflict the upright man of Uz is a type of all the cowards who, before or since then, have been

the first to speed away from the field of battle to spread the news of disaster. He said:

And the Sabeans fell upon them, and took them away ; yea, they have slain the servants with the edge of the

The terrible extent of his words was belied a little later, by the appearance on the distant summit of the hill of

a considerable mob of fugitives, flying at the utmost speed of their nearly exhausted horses. As they came on

down the hill as almost equally disorganized crowd of pursuers appeared on the summit, yelling in voices

hoarse with continued shouting, and pouring an incessant fire of carbine and revolver bullets upon the hapless

The two masses of men swept on through the town. Beyond it, the road branched in several directions, the

Returning to Jonesville, we took an account of stock, and found that we were "ahead" one hundred and

fifteen prisoners, nearly that many horses, and a considerable quantity of small arms. How many of the

enemy had been killed and wounded could not be told, as they were scattered over the whole fifteen miles

Comparing notes around the campfires in the evening, we found that our success had been owing to the

Major's instinct, his grasp of the situation, and the soldierly way in which he took advantage of it. When he

reached the summit of the hill he found the Rebel line nearly formed and ready for action. A moment's

hesitation might have been fatal to us. At his command Company I went into line with the thoughtlike

celerity of trained cavalry, and instantly dashed through the right of the Rebel line. Company K followed and

plunged through the Rebel center, and when we of Company L arrived on the ground, and charged the left,

the last vestige of resistance was swept away. The whole affair did not probably occupy more than fifteen

For weeks we rode up and downhither and thitheralong the length of the narrow, granitewalled Valley;

between mountains so lofty that the sun labored slowly over them in the morning, occupying half the

forenoon in getting to where his rays would reach the stream that ran through the Valley's center. Perpetual

shadow reigned on the northern and western faces of these towering Nightsnot enough warmth and

sunshine reaching them in the cold months to check the growth of the everlengthening icicles hanging from

the jutting cliffs, or melt the arabesque frost forms with which the many dashing cascades decorated the

adjacent rocks and shrubbery. Occasionally we would see where some little stream ran down over the face of

the bare, black rocks for many hundred feet, and then its course would be a long band of sheeny white, like a

great rich, spotless scarf of satin, festooning the wargrimed walls of some old castle.

Our duty now was to break up any nuclei of concentration that the Rebels might attempt to form, and to guard

our foragersthat is, the teamsters and employee of the Quartermaster's Departmentwho were loading

This last was an arduous task. There is no man in the world that needs as much protection as an Army

teamster. He is worse in this respect than a New England manufacturer, or an old maid on her travels. He is

given to sudden fears and causeless panics. Very innocent cedars have a fashion of assuming in his eyes the

appearance of desperate Rebels armed with murderous guns, and there is no telling what moment a rock may

take such a form as to freeze his young blood, and make each particular hair stand on end like quills upon the

fretful porcupine. One has to be particular about snapping caps in his neighborhood, and give to him careful

warning before discharging a carbine to clean it. His first impulse, when anything occurs to jar upon his

delicate nerves, is to cut his wheelmule loose and retire with the precipitation of a man having an

appointment to keep and being behind time. There is no man who can get as much speed out of a mule as a

This nervous tremor was not peculiar to the engineers of our transportation department. It was noticeable in

the gentry who carted the scanty provisions of the Rebels. One of Wheeler's cavalrymen told me that the

brigade to which he belonged was one evening ordered to move at daybreak. The night was rainy, and it was

thought best to discharge the guns and reload before starting. Unfortunately, it was neglected to inform the

teamsters of this, and at the first discharge they varnished from the scene with such energy that it was over a

Why association with the mule should thus demoralize a man, has always been a puzzle to me, for while the

mule, as Col. Ingersoll has remarked, is an animal without pride of ancestry or hope of posterity, he is still

not a coward by any means. It is beyond dispute that a fullgrown and active lioness once attacked a mule in

the grounds of the Cincinnati Zoological Garden, and was ignominiously beaten, receiving injuries from

The apparition of a badlyscared teamster urging one of his wheel mules at breakneck speed over the rough

ground, yelling for protection against "them Johnnies," who had appeared on some hilltop in sight of where

he was gathering corn, was an almost hourly occurrence. Of course the squad dispatched to his assistance

Still, there were plenty of Rebels in the country, and they hung around our front, exchanging shots with us at

long taw, and occasionally treating us to a volley at close range, from some favorable point. But we had the

decided advantage of them at this game. Our Sharpe's carbines were much superior in every way to their

Enfields. They would shoot much farther, and a great deal more rapidly, so that the Virginians were not long

in discovering that they were losing more than they gained in this useless warfare.

Once they played a sharp practical joke upon us. Copper River is a deep, exceedingly rapid mountain stream,

with a very slippery rocky bottom. The Rebels blockaded a ford in such a way that it was almost impossible

for a horse to keep his feet. Then they tolled us off in pursuit of a small party to this ford. When we came to it

there was a light line of skirmishers on the opposite bank, who popped away at us industriously. Our boys

formed in line, gave the customary, cheer, and dashed in to carry the ford at a charge. As they did so at least

onehalf of the horses went down as if they were shot, and rolled over their riders in the swift running,

icecold waters. The Rebels yelled a triumphant laugh, as they galloped away, and the laugh was reechoed

by our fellows, who were as quick to see the joke as the other side. We tried to get even with them by a sharp

But, after all, there was much to make our sojourn in the Valley endurable. Though we did not wear fine

linen, we fared sumptuouslyfor soldiersevery day. The cavalryman is always charged by the infantry

and artillery with having a finer and surer scent for the good things in the country than any other man in the

service. He is believed to have an instinct that will unfailingly lead him, in the dankest night, to the roosting

place of the most desirable poultry, and after he has camped in a neighborhood for awhile it would require a

We did our best to sustain the reputation of our arm of the service. We found the most delicious hams packed

away in the ashhouses. They were small, and had that; exquisite nutty flavor, peculiar to mast fed bacon.

Then there was an abundance of the delightful little apple known as "romanites." There were turnips,

pumpkins, cabbages, potatoes, and the usual products of the field in plenty, even profusion. The corn in the

fields furnished an ample supply of breadstuff. We carried it to and ground it in the quaintest, rudest little

mills that can be imagined outside of the primitive affairs by which the women of Arabia coarsely powder the

grain for the family meal. Sometimes the mill would consist only of four stout posts thrust into the ground at

the edge of some stream. A line of boulders reaching diagonally across the stream answered for a dam, by

diverting a portion of the volume of water to a channel at the side, where it moved a clumsily constructed

wheel, that turned two small stones, not larger than goodsized grindstones. Over this would be a shed made

by resting poles in forked posts stuck into the ground, and covering these with clapboards held in place by

large flat stones. They resembled the mills of the godsin grinding slowly. It used to seem that a healthy

But what savory meals we used to concoct around the campfires, out of the rich materials collected during the

day's ride! Such stews, such soups, such broils, such wonderful commixtures of things diverse in nature and

antagonistic in properties such daring culinary experiments in combining materials never before attempted to

be combined. The French say of untasteful arrangement of hues in dress "that the colors swear at each other."

I have often thought the same thing of the heterogeneities that go to make up a soldier's pota feu.

But for all that they never failed to taste deliciously after a long day's ride. They were washed down by a

tincupful of coffee strong enough to tan leather, then came a brierwood pipeful of fragrant kinnikinnic, and

a seat by the ruddy, sparkling fire of aromatic cedar logs, that diffused at once warmth, and spicy, pleasing

incense. A chat over the events of the day, and the prospect of the morrow, the wonderful merits of each

man's horse, and the disgusting irregularities of the mails from home, lasted until the silvervoiced bugle

rang out the sweet, mournful tattoo of the Regulations, to the flowing cadences of which the boys had

Words were fitted to all the calls, which generally bore some relativeness to the sigmal, but these were as,

Tattoo always produces an impression of extreme loneliness. As its weird, halfavailing notes ring out and

are answered back from the distant rocks shrouded in night, and perhaps concealing the lurking foe, the

soldier remembers that he is far away from home and friendsdeep in the enemy's country, encompassed on

every hand by those in deadly hostility to him, who are perhaps even then maturing the preparations for his

As the tattoo sounds, the boys arise from around the fire, visit the horse line, see that their horses are securely

tied, rub off from the fetlocks and legs such specks of mud as may have escaped the cleaning in the early

evening, and if possible, smuggle their faithful fourfooted friends a few ears of corn, or another bunch of

If not too tired, and everything else is favorable, the cavalryman has prepared himself a comfortable couch

for the night. He always sleeps with a chum. The two have gathered enough small tufts of pine or cedar to

make a comfortable, springy, mattresslike foundation. On this is laid the poncho or rubber blanket. Next

comes one of their overcoats, and upon this they lie, covering themselves with the two blankets and the other

overcoat, their feet towards the fire, their boots at the foot, and their belts, with revolver, saber and carbine, at

the sides of the bed. It is surprising what an amount of comfort a man can get out of such a couch, and how,

Half an hour after tattoo the bugle rings out another sadly sweet strain, that hath a dying sound.

The night had been the most intensely cold that the country had known for many years. Peach and other

tender trees had been killed by the frosty rigor, and sentinels had been frozen to death in our neighborhood.

The deep snow on which we made our beds, the icy covering of the streams near us, the limbs of the trees

We were camped around Jonesville, each of the four companies lying on one of the roads leading from the

town. Company L lay about a mile from the Court House. On a knoll at the end of the village toward us, and

at a point where two roads separated,one of which led to us,stood a three inch Rodman rifle, belonging

to the Twentysecond Ohio Battery. It and its squad of eighteen men, under command of Lieutenant Alger

The comfortless gray dawn was crawling sluggishly over the mountaintops, as if numb as the animal and

vegetable life which had been shrinking all the long hours under the fierce chill.

The Major's bugler had saluted the morn with the lively, ringing tarrr rataara of the Regulation

reveille, and the company buglers, as fast as they could thaw out their mouthpieces, were answering him.

I lay on my bed, dreading to get up, and yet not anxious to lie still. It was a question which would be the

more uncomfortable. I turned over, to see if there was not another position in which it would be warmer, and

began wishing for the thousandth time that the efforts for the amelioration of the horrors of warfare would

progress to such a point as to put a stop to all Winter soldiering, so that a fellow could go home as soon as

cold weather began, sit around a comfortable stove in a country store; and tell camp stories until the Spring

was far enough advanced to let him go back to the front wearing a straw hat and a linen duster.

Then I began wondering how much longer I would dare lie there, before the Orderly Sergeant would draw me

out by the heels, and accompany the operation with numerous unkind and sulphurous remarks.

This cogitation, was abruptly terminated by hearing an excited shout from the Captain:

Almost at the same instant rose that shrill, piercing Rebel yell, which one who has once heard it rarely

forgets, and this was followed by a crashing volley from apparently a regiment of rifles.

Cap, overcoat, boots and revolver belt went on, and eyes opened at about the same instant.

As I snatched up my carbine, I looked out in front, and the whole woods appeared to be full of Rebels,

rushing toward us, all yelling and some firing. My Captain and First Lieutenant had taken up position on the

right front of the tents, and part of the boys were running up to form a line alongside them. The Second

Lieutenant had stationed himself on a knoll on the left front, and about a third of the company was rallying

My chum was a silent, sententious sort of a chap, and as we ran forward to the Captain's line, he remarked

All this occupied an inappreciably short space of time. The Rebels had not stopped to reload, but were

rushing impetuously toward us. We gave them a hot, rolling volley from our carbines. Many fell, more

stopped to load and reply, but the mass surged straight forward at us. Then our fire grew so deadly that they

showed a disposition to cover themselves behind the rocks and trees. Again they were urged forward; and a

body of them headed by their Colonel, mounted on a white horse, pushed forward through the gap between us

and the Second Lieutenant. The Rebel Colonel dashed up to the Second Lieutenant, and ordered him to

surrender. The lattera gallant old graybeardcursed the Rebel bitterly and snapped his now empty revolver

in his face. The Colonel fired and killed him, whereupon his squad, with two of its Sergeants killed and half

The Rebels in our front and flank pressed us with equal closeness. It seemed as if it was absolutely

impossible to check their rush for an instant, and as we saw the fate of our companions the Captain gave the

word for every man to look out for himself. We ran back a little distance, sprang over the fence into the

fields, and rushed toward Town, the Rebels encouraging us to make good time by a sharp fire into our backs

While we were vainly attempting to stem the onset of the column dashed against us, better success was

secured elsewhere. Another column swept down the other road, upon which there was only an outlying

picket. This had to come back on the run before the overwhelming numbers, and the Rebels galloped straight

for the threeinch Rodman. Company M was the first to get saddled and mounted, and now came up at a

steady, swinging gallop, in two platoons, saber and revolver in hand, and led by two SergeantsKey and

McWright,printer boys from Bloomington, Illinois. They divined the object of the Rebel dash, and strained

every nerve to reach the gun first. The Rebels were too near, and got the gun and turned it. Before they could

fire it, Company M struck them headlong, but they took the terrible impact without flinching, and for a few

minutes there was fierce handtohand work, with sword and pistol. The Rebel leader sank under a

halfdozen simultaneous wounds, and fell dead almost under the gun. Men dropped from their horses each

instant, and the riderless steeds fled away. The scale of victory was turned by the Major dashing against the

Rebel left flank at the head of Company I, and a portion of the artillery squad. The Rebels gave ground

slowly, and were packed into a dense mass in the lane up which they had charged. After they had been

crowded back, say fifty yards, word was passed through our men to open to the right and left on the sides of

the road. The artillerymen had turned the gun and loaded it with a solid shot. Instantly a wide lane opened

through our ranks; the man with the lanyard drew the fatal cord, fire burst from the primer and the muzzle,

the long gun sprang up and recoiled, and there seemed to be a demoniac yell in its earsplitting crash, as the

heavy ball left the mouth, and tore its bloody way through the bodies of the struggling mass of men and

This ended it. The Rebels gave way in disorder, and our men fell back to give the gun an opportunity to throw

The Rebels now saw that we were not to be run over like a field of cornstalks, and they fell back to devise

further tactics, giving us a breathing spell to get ourselves in shape for defense.

The dullest could see that we were in a desperate situation. Critical positions were no new experience to us,

as they never are to a cavalry command after a few months in the field, but, though the pitcher goes often to

the well, it is broken at last, and our time was evidently at hand. The narrow throat of the Valley, through

which lay the road back to the Gap, was held by a force of Rebels evidently much superior to our own, and

strongly posted. The road was a slender, tortuous one, winding through rocks and gorges. Nowhere was there

room enough to move with even a platoon front against the enemy, and this precluded all chances of cutting

out. The best we could do was a slow, difficult movement, in column of fours, and this would have been

suicide. On the other side of the Town the Rebels were massed stronger, while to the right and left rose the

steep mountain sides. We were caughttrapped as surely as a rat ever was in a wire trap.

As we learned afterwards, a whole division of cavalry, under command of the noted Rebel, Major General

Sam Jones, had been sent to effect our capture, to offset in a measure Longstreet's repulse at Knoxville. A

gross overestimate of our numbers had caused the sending of so large a force on this errand, and the rough

treatment we gave the two columns that attacked us first confirmed the Rebel General's ideas of our strength,

and led him to adopt cautious tactics, instead of crushing us out speedily, by a determined advance of all parts

The lull in the fight did not last long. A portion of the Rebel line on the east rushed forward to gain a more

commanding position. We concentrated in that direction and drove it back, the Rodman assisting with a

couple of wellaimed shells. This was followed by a similar but more successful attempt by another part

of the Rebel line, and so it went on all daythe Rebels rushing up first on this side, and then on that, and we,

hastily collecting at the exposed points, seeking to drive them back. We were frequently successful; we were

on the inside, and had the advantage of the short interior lines, so that our few men and our breechloaders

There were frequent crises in the struggle, that at some times gave encouragement, but never hope. Once a

determined onset was made from the East, and was met by the equally determined resistance of nearly our

whole force. Our fire was so galling that a large number of our foes crowded into a house on a knoll, and

making loopholes in its walls, began replying to us pretty sharply. We sent word to our faithful artillerists,

who trained the gun upon the house. The first shell screamed over the roof, and burst harmlessly beyond. We

suspended fire to watch the next. It crashed through the side; for an instant all was deathly still; we thought it

had gone on through. Then came a roar and a crash; the clapboards flew off the roof, and smoke poured out;

panic stricken Rebels rushed from the doors and sprang from the windowslike bees from a disturbed hive;

the shell had burst among the confined mass of men inside! We afterwards heard that twentyfive were killed

At another time a considerable force of rebels gained the cover of a fence in easy range of our main force.

Companies L and K were ordered to charge forward on foot and dislodge them. Away we went, under a fire

that seemed to drop a man at every step. A hundred yards in front of the Rebels was a little cover, and behind

this our men lay down as if by one impulse. Then came a close, desperate duel at short range. It was a

question between Northern pluck and Southern courage, as to which could stand the most punishment. Lying

as flat as possible on the crusted snow, only raising the head or body enough to load and aim, the men on

both sides, with their teeth set, their glaring eyes fastened on the foe, their nerves as tense as tightlydrawn

steel wires, rained shot on each other as fast as excited hands could crowd cartridges into the guns and

The shallower enthusiasm that expresses itself in oaths and shouts had given way to the deep, voiceless rage

of men in a death grapple. The Rebel line was a rolling torrent of flame, their bullets shrieked angrily as they

flew past, they struck the snow in front of us, and threw its cold flakes in faces that were white with the fires

of consuming hate; they buried themselves with a dull thud in the quivering bodies of the enraged

At length a few Rebels sprang up and tried to fly. They were shot down instantly.

The relief was so great that we jumped to our feet and cheered wildly, forgetting in our excitement to make

Nor was an element of fun lacking. A Second Lieutenant was ordered to take a party of skirmishers to the top

of a hill and engage those of the Rebels stationed on another hilltop across a ravine. He had but lately joined

us from the Regular Army, where he was a Drill Sergeant. Naturally, he was very methodical in his way, and

scorned to do otherwise under fire than he would upon the parade ground. He moved his little command to

the hilltop, in close order, and faced them to the front. The Johnnies received them with a yell and a volley,

whereat the boys winced a little, much to the Lieutenant's disgust, who swore at them; then had them count

off with great deliberation, and deployed them as coolly as if them was not ,an enemy within a hundred miles.

After the line deployed, he "dressed" it, commanded "Front!" and "Begin, firing!" his attention was called

another way for an instant, and when he looked back again, there was not a man of his nicely formed

skirmish line visible. The logs and stones had evidently been put there for the use of skirmishers, the boys

Never was there an angrier man than that Second Lieutenant; he brandished his saber and swore; he seemed

to feel that all his soldierly reputation was gone, but the boys stuck to their shelter for all that, informing him

that when the Rebels would stand out in the open field and take their fire, they would d likewise.

Despite all our efforts, the Rebel line crawled up closer an closer to us; we were driven back from knoll to

knoll, and from one fence after another. We had maintained the unequal struggle for eight hours; over

onefourth of our number were stretched upon the snow, killed or badly wounded. Our cartridges were nearly

all gone; the cannon had fired its last shot long ago, and having a blank cartridge left, had shot the rammer at

Just as the Winter sun was going down upon a day of gloom the bugle called us all up on the hillside. Then

the Rebels saw for the first time how few there were, and began an almost simultaneous charge all along the

line. The Major raised piece of a shelter tent upon a pole. The line halted. An officer rode out from it,

The punctillious soul of the old "Regular"for such the Major was swelled up instantly, and he answered:

The Adjutant reined his horse back. His two followers leveled their pieces at the Major and waited orders to

fire. They were covered by a dozen carbines in the hands of our men. The Adjutant ordered his men to

"recover arms," and rode away with them. He presently returned with a Colonel, and to him the Major handed

As the men realized what was being done, the first thought of many of them was to snatch out the cylinder's

of their revolvers, and the slides of their carbines, and throw them away, so as to make the arms useless.

We were overcome with rage and humiliation at being compelled to yield to an enemy whom we had hated so

bitterly. As we stood there on the bleak mountainside, the biting wind soughing through the leafless

branches, the shadows of a gloomy winter night closing around us, the groans and shrieks of our wounded

mingling with the triumphant yells of the Rebels plundering our tents, it seemed as if Fate could press to

The night that followed was inexpressibly dreary: The highwrought nervous tension, which had been

protracted through the long hours that the fight lasted, was succeeded by a proportionate mental depression,

such as naturally follows any strain upon the mind. This was intensified in our cases by the sharp sting of

defeat, the humiliation of having to yield ourselves, our horses and our arms into the possession of the

enemy, the uncertainty as to the future, and the sorrow we felt at the loss of so many of our comrades.

Company L had suffered very severely, but our chief regret was for the gallant Osgood, our Second

Lieutenant. He, above all others, was our trusted leader. The Captain and First Lieutenant were brave men,

and good enough soldiers, but Osgood was the one "whose adoption tried, we grappled to our souls with

hooks of steel." There was never any difficulty in getting all the volunteers he wanted for a scouting party. A

quiet, pleasant spoken gentleman, past middle age, he looked much better fitted for the office of Justice of the

Peace, to which his fellowcitizens of Urbana, Illinois, had elected and reelected him, than to command a

troop of rough riders in a great civil war. But none more gallant than he ever vaulted into saddle to do battle

for the right. He went into the Army solely as a matter of principle, and did his duty with the unflagging zeal

of an olden Puritan fighting for liberty and his soul's salvation. He was a superb horsemanas all the older

Illinoisans are and, for all his twoscore years and ten, he recognized few superiors for strength and activity

in the Battalion. A radical, uncompromising Abolitionist, he had frequently asserted that he would rather die

As for him, it was probably the way he desired to die. No one believed more ardently than he that

Whether on the scaffold high, Or in the battle's van; The fittest place for man to die, Is where he dies for man.

Among the many who had lost chums and friends was Ned Johnson, of Company K. Ned was a young

Englishman, with much of the suggestiveness of the bulldog common to the lower class of that nation. His

fist was readier than his tongue. His chum, Walter Savage was of the same surly type. The two had come

from England twelve years before, and had been together ever since. Savage was killed in the struggle for the

fence described in the preceding chapter. Ned could not realize for a while that his friend was dead. It was

only when the body rapidly stiffened on its icy bed, and the eyes which had been gleaming deadly hate when

he was stricken down were glazed over with the dull film of death, that he believed he was gone from him

forever. Then his rage was terrible. For the rest of the day he was at the head of every assault upon the

enemy. His voice could ever be heard above the firing, cursing the Rebels bitterly, and urging the boys to

"Stand up to 'em! Stand right up to 'em! Don't give a inch! Let them have the best you got in the shop! Shoot

When we surrendered, Ned seemed to yield sullenly to the inevitable. He threw his belt and apparently his

revolver with it upon the snow. A guard was formed around us, and we gathered about the fires that were

started. Ned sat apart, his arms folded, his head upon his breast, brooding bitterly upon Walter's death. A

horseman, evidently a Colonel or General, clattered up to give some directions concerning us. At the sound of

his voice Ned raised his head and gave him a swift glance; the gold stars upon the Rebel's collar led him to

believe that he was the commander of the enemy. Ned sprang to his feet, made a long stride forward,

snatched from the breast of his overcoat the revolver he had been hiding there, cocked it and leveled it at the

Rebel's breast. Before he could pull the trigger Orderly Sergeant Charles Bentley, of his Company, who was

watching him, leaped forward, caught his wrist and threw the revolver up. Others joined in, took the weapon

away, and handed it over to the officer, who then ordered us all to be searched for arms, and rode away.

All our dejection could not make us forget that we were intensely hungry. We had eaten nothing all day. The

fight began before we had time to get any breakfast, and of course there was no interval for refreshments

during the engagement. The Rebels were no better off than we, having been marched rapidly all night in

Late in the evening a few sacks of meal were given us, and we took the first lesson in an art that long and

painful practice afterward was to make very familiar to us. We had nothing to mix the meal in, and it looked

as if we would have to eat it dry, until a happy thought struck some one that our caps would do for kneading

troughs. At once every cap was devoted to this. Getting water from an adjacent spring, each man made a little

wad of doughunsaltedand spreading it upon a flat stone or a chip, set it up in front of the fire to bake. As

soon as it was browned on one side, it was pulled off the stone, and the other side turned to the fire. It was a

very primitive way of cooking and I became thoroughly disgusted with it. It was fortunate for me that I little

dreamed that this was the way I should have to get my meals for the next fifteen months.

After somewhat of the edge had been taken off our hunger by this food, we crouched around the fires, talked

over the events of the day, speculated as to what was to be done with us, and snatched such sleep as the biting

At dawn we were gathered together, more meal issued to us, which we cooked in the same way, and then

were started under heavy guard to march on foot over the mountains to Bristol, a station at the point where

the Virginia and Tennessee Railroad crosses the line between Virginia and Tennessee.

As we were preparing to set out a Sergeant of the First Virginia cavalry came galloping up to us on my horse!

The sight of my faithful "Hiatoga" bestrid by a Rebel, wrung my heart. During the action I had forgotten him,

but when it ceased I began to worry about his fate. As he and his rider came near I called out to him; he

stopped and gave a whinny of recognition, which seemed also a plaintive appeal for an explanation of the

The Sergeant was a pleasant, gentlemanly boy of about my own age. He rode up to me and inquired if it was

my horse, to which I replied in the affirmative, and asked permission to take from the saddle pockets some

letters, pictures and other trinkets. He granted this, and we became friends from thence on until we separated.

He rode by my side as we plodded over the steep, slippery hills, and we beguiled the way by chatting of the

thousand things that soldiers find to talk about, and exchanged reminiscences of the service on both sides.

But the subject he was fondest of was that which I relished least: mynow hishorse. Into the open ulcer

of my heart he poured the acid of all manner of questions concerning my lost steed's qualities and

capabilities: would he swim? how was he in fording? did he jump well! how did he stand fire? I smothered

In the afternoon of the third day after the capture, we came up to where a party of rustic belles were collected

at "quilting." The "Yankees" were instantly objects of greater interest than the parade of a menagerie would

have been. The Sergeant told the girls we were going to camp for the night a mile or so ahead, and if they

would be at a certain house, he would have a Yankee for them for close inspection. After halting, the

Sergeant obtained leave to take me out with a guard, and I was presently ushered into a room in which the

damsels were massed in force, a carnationchecked, staring, openmouthed, linseyclad crowd, as

ignorant of corsets and gloves as of Hebrew, and with a propensity to giggle that was chronic and

irrepressible. When we entered the room there was a general giggle, and then a shower of comments upon my

appearance,each sentence punctuated with the chorus of feminine cachination. A remark was made about

my hair and eyes, and their risibles gave way; judgment was passed on my nose, and then came a ripple of

laughter. I got very red in the face, and uncomfortable generally. Attention was called to the size of my feet

and hands, and the usual chorus followed. Those useful members of my body seemed to swell up as they do

Then I saw that in the minds of these bucolic maidens I was scarcely, if at all, human; they did not understand

that I belonged to the race; I was a "Yankee"a something of the nonhuman class, as the gorilla or the

chimpanzee. They felt as free to discuss my points before my face as they would to talk of a horse or a wild

animal in a show. My equanimity was partially restored by this reflection, but I was still too young to escape

embarrassment and irritation at being thus dissected and giggled at by a party of girls, even if they were

I turned around to speak to the Sergeant, and in so doing showed my back to the ladies. The hum of comment

I was puzzled for a minute, and then the direction of their glances, and their remarks explained it all. At the

rear of the lower part of the cavalry jacket, about where the upper ornamental buttons are on the tail of a

frock coat, are two funny tabs, about the size of small pin cushions. They are fastened by the edge, and stick

out straight behind. Their use is to support the heavy belt in the rear, as the buttons do in front. When the belt

is off it would puzzle the Seven Wise Men to guess what they are for. The unsophisticated young ladies, with

that swift intuition which is one of lovely woman's salient mental traits, immediately jumped at the

conclusion that the projections covered some peculiar conformation of the Yankee anatomysome incipient,

This anatomical phenomena was discussed intently for a few minutes, during which I heard one of the girls

inquire whether "it would hurt him to cut 'em off?" and another hazarded the opinion that "it would probably

Then a new idea seized them, and they said to the Sergeant "Make him sing! Make him sing!"

This was too much for the Sergeant, who had been intensely amused at the girls' wonderment. He turned to

"Oh, come now. I know better than that; I never seed or heerd of a Yankee that couldn't sing."

I nevertheless assured him that there really were some Yankees that did not have any musical

accomplishments, and that I was one of that unfortunate number. I asked him to get the ladies to sing for me,

and to this they acceded quite readily. One girl, with a fair soprano, who seemed to be the leader of the

crowd, sang "The Homespun Dress," a song very popular in the South, and having the same tune as the

and proceeded to compare the homespun habiliments of the Southern women to the finery and frippery of the

ladies on the other side of Mason and Dixon's line in a manner very disadvantageous to the latter.

The rest of the girls made a fine exhibition of the lungpower acquired in climbing their precipitous

Hurra! Hurra! for southern rights Hurra! Hurra for the homespun dress, The Southern ladies wear.

On our journey to Bristol we met many Rebel soldiers, of all ranks, and a small number of citizens. As the

conscription had then been enforced pretty sharply for over a year the only ablebodied men seen in civil life

were those who had some trade which exempted them from being forced into active service. It greatly

astonished us at first to find that nearly all the mechanics were included among the exempts, or could be if

they chose; but a very little reflection showed us the wisdom of such a policy. The South is as nearly a purely

agricultural country as is Russia or South America. The people have, little inclination or capacity for anything

else than pastoral pursuits. Consequently mechanics are very scarce, and manufactories much scarcer. The

limited quantity of products of mechanical skill needed by the people was mostly imported from the North or

Europe. Both these sources of supply were cutoff by the war, and the country was thrown upon its own

slender manufacturing resources. To force its mechanics into the army would therefore be suicidal. The Army

would gain a few thousand men, but its operations would be embarrassed, if not stopped altogether, by a want

of supplies. This condition of affairs reminded one of the singular paucity of mechanical skill among the

Bedouins of the desert, which renders the life of a blacksmith sacred. No matter how bitter the feud between

tribes, no one will kill the other's workers of iron, and instances are told of warriors saving their lives at

critical periods by falling on their knees and making with their garments an imitation of the action of a

All whom we met were eager to discuss with us the causes, phases and progress of the war, and whenever

opportunity offered or could be made, those of us who were inclined to talk were speedily involved in an

argument with crowds of soldiers and citizens. But, owing to the polemic poverty of our opponents, the

argument was more in name than in fact. Like all people of slender or untrained intellectual powers they

labored under the hallucination that asserting was reasoning, and the emphatic reiteration of bald statements,

logic. The narrow round which all from highest to lowesttraveled was sometimes comical, and sometimes

irritating, according to one's mood! The dispute invariably began by their asking:

"What do you 'uns put our niggers to fightin' we'uns for?" The windup always was: "Well, let me tell you, sir,

Even General Giltner, who had achieved considerable military reputation as commander of a division of

Kentucky cavalry, seemed to be as slenderly furnished with logical ammunition as the balance, for as he

The question had become raspingly monotonous to me, whom he addressed, and I replied with marked

"Because we are the Northern mudsills whom you affect to despise, and we came down here to lick you into

The answer seemed to tickle him, a pleasanter light came into his sinister gray eyes, he laughed lightly, and

Four days after our capture we arrived in Bristol. The guards who had brought us over the mountains were

relieved by others, the Sergeant bade me good by, struck his spurs into "Hiatoga's" sides, and he and my

A new and keener sense of desolation came over me at the final separation from my tried and true

fourfooted friend, who had been my constant companion through so many perils and hardships. We had

endured together the Winter's cold, the dispiriting drench of the rain, the fatigue of the long march, the

discomforts of the muddy camp, the gripings of hunger, the weariness of the drill and review, the perils of the

vidette post, the courier service, the scout and the fight. We had shared in common

The whips and scorns of time, The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, The insolence of office,

which a patient private and his horse of the unworthy take; we had had our frequently recurring rows with

other fellows and their horses, over questions of precedence at watering places, and grassplots, had had

lively tilts with guards of forage piles in surreptitious attempts to get additional rations, sometimes coming

off victorious and sometimes being driven off ingloriously. I had often gone hungry that he might have the

only ear of corn obtainable. I am not skilled enough in horse lore to speak of his points or pedigree. I only

know that his strong limbs never failed me, and that he was always ready for duty and ever willing.

Now at last our paths diverged. I was retired from actual service to a prison, and he bore his new master off to

Packed closely in old, dilapidated stock and box cars, as if cattle in shipment to market, we pounded along

The railroads of the South were already in very bad condition. They were never more than passably good,

even in their best estate, but now, with a large part of the skilled men engaged upon them escaped back to the

North, with all renewal, improvement, or any but the most necessary repairs stopped for three years, and with

a marked absence of even ordinary skill and care in their management, they were as nearly ruined as they

One of the severe embarrassments under which the roads labored was a lack of oil. There is very little fatty

matter of any kind in the South. The climate and the food plants do not favor the accumulation of adipose

tissue by animals, and there is no other source of supply. Lard oil and tallow were very scarce and held at

Attempts were made to obtain lubricants from the peanut and the cotton seed. The first yielded a fine bland

oil, resembling the ordinary grade of olive oil, but it was entirely too expensive for use in the arts. The cotton

seed oil could be produced much cheaper, but it had in it such a quantity of gummy matter as to render it

This scarcity of oleaginous matter produced a corresponding scarcity of soap and similar detergents, but this

was a deprivation which caused the Rebels, as a whole, as little inconvenience as any that they suffered from.

I have seen many thousands of them who were obviously greatly in need of soap, but if they were rent with

There seemed to be a scanty supply of oil provided for the locomotives, but the cars had to run with

unlubricated axles, and the screaking and groaning of the grinding journals in the dry boxes was sometimes

Our engine went off the wretched track several times, but as she was not running much faster than a man

could walk, the worst consequence to us was a severe jolting. She was small, and was easily pried back upon

The depression which had weighed us down for a night and a day after our capture had now been succeeded

by a more cheerful feeling. We began to look upon our condition as the fortune of war. We were proud of our

resistance to overwhelming numbers. We knew we had sold ourselves at a price which, if the Rebels had it to

do over again, they would not pay for us. We believed that we had killed and seriously wounded as many of

them as they had killed, wounded and captured of us. We had nothing to blame ourselves for. Moreover, we

began to be buoyed up with the expectation that we would be exchanged immediately upon our arrival at

Richmond, and the Rebel officers confidently assured us that this would be so. There was then a temporary

hitch in the exchange, but it would all be straightened out in a few days, and it might not be a month until we

were again marching out of Cumberland Gap, on an avenging foray against some of the force which had

Fortunately for this delusive hopefulness there was no weird and boding Cassandra to pierce the veil of the

future for us, and reveal the length and the ghastly horror of the Valley of the Shadow of Death, through

which we must pass for hundreds of sad days, stretching out into long months of suffering and death. Happily

there was no one to tell us that of every five in that party four would never stand under the Stars and Stripes

again, but succumbing to chronic starvation, longcontinued exposure, the bullet of the brutal guard, the

loathsome scurvy, the hideous gangrene, and the heartsickness of hope deferred, would find respite from pain

Were every doom foretokened by appropriate omens, the ravens along our route would have croaked

But, far from being oppressed by any presentiment of coming evil, we began to appreciate and enjoy the

picturesque grandeur of the scenery through which we were moving. The rugged sternness of the

Appalachian mountain range, in whose rockribbed heart we had fought our losing fight, was now softening

into less strong, but more graceful outlines as we approached the pineclad, sandy plains of the seaboard,

upon which Richmond is built. We were skirting along the eastern base of the great Blue Ridge, about whose

distant and lofty summits hung a perpetual veil of deep, dark, but translucent blue, which refracted the

slanting rays of the morning and evening sun into masses of color more gorgeous than a dreamer's vision of

an enchanted land. At Lynchburg we saw the famed Peaks of Ottertwenty miles awaylifting their proud

heads far into the clouds, like giant watchtowers sentineling the gateway that the mighty waters of the James

had forced through the barriers of solid adamant lying across their path to the faroff sea. What we had seen

many miles back start from the mountain sides as slender rivulets, brawling over the worn boulders, were

now great, rushing, fulltide streams, enough of them in any fifty miles of our journey to furnish water power

for all the factories of New England. Their amazing opulence of mechanical energy has lain unutilized,

almost unnoticed; in the two and onehalf centuries that the white man has dwelt near them, while in

Massachusetts and her near neighbors every rill that can turn a wheel has been put into harness and forced to

do its share of labor for the benefit of the men who have made themselves its masters.

Here is one of the differences between the two sections: In the North man was set free, and the elements

made to do his work. In the South man was the degraded slave, and the elements wantoned on in undisturbed

As we went on, the Valleys of the James and the Appomattox, down which our way lay, broadened into an

expanse of arable acres, and the faces of those streams were frequently flecked by gemlike little islands.

Early on the tenth morning after our capture we were told that we were about to enter Richmond. Instantly all

were keenly observant of every detail in the surroundings of a City that was then the object of the hopes and

fears of thirtyfive millions of peoplea City assailing which seventyfive thousand brave men had already

laid down their lives, defending which an equal number had died, and which, before it fell, was to cost the

life blood of another one hundred and fifty thousand valiant assailants and defenders.

So much had been said and written about Richmond that our boyish minds had wrought up the most

extravagant expectations of it and its defenses. We anticipated seeing a City differing widely from anything

ever seen before; some anomaly of nature displayed in its site, itself guarded by imposing and impregnable

fortifications, with powerful forts and heavy guns, perhaps even walls, castles, postern gates, moats and

ditches, and all the other panoply of defensive warfare, with which romantic history had made us familiar.

We were disappointedbadly disappointedin seeing nothing of this as we slowly rolled along. The spires

and the tall chimneys of the factories rose in the distance very much as they had in other Cities we had

visited. We passed a single line of breastworks of bare yellow sand, but the scrubby pines in front were not

cut away, and there were no signs that there had ever been any immediate expectation of use for the works. A

redoubt or twowithout gunscould be made out, and this was all. Grimvisaged war had few wrinkles on

his front in that neighborhood. They were then seaming his brow on the Rappahannock, seventy miles away,

where the Army of Northern Virginia and the Army of the Potomac lay confronting each other.

At one of the stopping places I had been separated from my companions by entering a car in which were a

number of East Tennesseeans, captured in the operations around Knoxville, and whom the Rebels, in

accordance with their usual custom, were treating with studied contumely. I had always had a very warm side

for these simple rustics of the mountains and valleys. I knew much of their unwavering fidelity to the Union,

of the firm steadfastness with which they endured persecution for their country's sake, and made sacrifices

even unto death; and, as in those days I estimated all men simply by their devotion to the great cause of

National integrity, (a habit that still clings to me) I rated these men very highly. I had gone into their car to do

my little to encourage them, and when I attempted to return to my own I was prevented by the guard.

Crossing the long bridge, our train came to a halt on the other side of the river with the usual clamor of bell

and whistle, the usual seemingly purposeless and vacillating, almost dizzying, running backward and forward

on a network of sidetracks and switches, that seemed unavoidably necessary, a dozen years ago, in getting a

Still unable to regain my comrades and share their fortunes, I was marched off with the Tennesseeans through

The streets we passed through were lined with retail stores, in which business was being carried on very

much as in peaceful times. Many people were on the streets, but the greater part of the men wore some sort of

a uniform. Though numbers of these were in active service, yet the wearing of a military garb did not

necessarily imply this. Nearly every ablebodied man in Richmond was; enrolled in some sort of an

organization, and armed, and drilled regularly. Even the members of the Confederate Congress were

It was obvious even to the casual glimpse of a passing prisoner of war, that the City did not lack its full share

of the class which formed so large an element of the society of Washington and other Northern Cities during

the warthe dainty carpet soldiers, heros of the promenade and the boudoir, who strutted in uniforms when

the enemy was far off, and wore citizen's clothes when he was close at hand. There were many curled

darlings displaying their fine forms in the nattiest of uniforms, whose gloss had never suffered from so much

as a heavy dew, let alone a rainy day on the march. The Confederate gray could be made into a very dressy

garb. With the sleeves lavishly embroidered with gold lace, and the collar decorated with stars indicating the

wearer's ranksilver for the field officers, and gold for the higher grade,the feet compressed into

highheeled, highinstepped boots, (no Virginian is himself without a fine pair of skintight boots) and the

head covered with a fine, soft, broadbrimmed hat, trimmed with a gold cord, from which a bullion tassel

dangled several inches down the wearer's back, you had a military swell, caparisoned for conquestamong

On our way we passed the noted Capitol of Virginiaa handsome marble building,of the columnfronted

Grecian temple style. It stands in the center of the City. Upon the grounds is Crawford's famous equestrian

statue of Washington, surrounded by smaller statues of other Revolutionary patriots.

The Confederate Congress was then in session in the Capitol, and also the Legislature of Virginia, a fact

indicated by the State flag of Virginia floating from the southern end of the building, and the new flag of the

Confederacy from the northern end. This was the first time I had seen the latter, which had been recently

adopted, and I examined it with some interest. The design was exceedingly plain. Simply a white banner,

with a red field in the corner where the blue field with stars is in ours. The two blue stripes were drawn

diagonally across this field in the shape of a letter X, and in these were thirteen white stars, corresponding to

The battleflag was simply the red field. My examination of all this was necessarily very brief. The guards

felt that I was in Richmond for other purposes than to study architecture, statuary and heraldry, and besides

they were in a hurry to be relieved of us and get their breakfast, so my arteducation was abbreviated sharply.

We did not excite much attention on the streets. Prisoners had by that time become too common in Richmond

to create any interest. Occasionally passers by would fling opprobrious epithets at "the East Tennessee

The commandant of the prisons directed the Tennesseeans to be taken to Castle Lightninga prison used to

confine the Rebel deserters, among whom they also classed the East Tennesseeans, and sometimes the West

Virginians, Kentuckians, Marylanders and Missourians found fighting against them. Such of our men as

deserted to them were also lodged there, as the Rebels, very properly, did not place a high estimate upon this

class of recruits to their army, and, as we shall see farther along, violated all obligations of good faith with

them, by putting them among the regular prisoners of war, so as to exchange them for their own men.

Back we were all marched to a street which ran parallel to the river and canal, and but one square away from

them. It was lined on both sides by plain brick warehouses and tobacco factories, four and five stories high,

which were now used by the Rebel Government as prisons and military storehouses.

The first we passed was Castle Thunder, of bloody repute. This occupied the same place in Confederate

history, that, the dungeons beneath the level of the water did in the annals of the Venetian Council of Ten. It

was believed that if the bricks in its somber, dirtgrimed walls could speak, each could tell a separate story of

a life deemed dangerous to the State that had gone down in night, at the behest of the ruthless Confederate

authorities. It was confidently asserted that among the commoner occurrences within its confines was the

stationing of a doomed prisoner against a certain bit of bloodstained, bulletchipped wall, and relieving the

Confederacy of all farther fear of him by the rifles of a firing party. How well this dark reputation was

deserved, no one but those inside the inner circle of the Davis Government can say. It is safe to believe that

more tragedies were enacted there than the archives of the Rebel civil or military judicature give any account

of. The prison was employed for the detention of spies, and those charged with the convenient allegation of

"treason against the Confederate States of America." It is probable that many of these were sent out of the

world with as little respect for the formalities of law as was exhibited with regard to the 'suspects' during the

Next we came to Castle Lightning, and here I bade adieu to my Tennessee companions.

A few squares more and we arrived at a warehouse larger than any of the others. Over the door was a sign

This was the notorious "Libby Prison," whose name was painfully familiar to every Union man in the land.

Under the sign was a broad entrance way, large enough to admit a dray or a small wagon. On one side of this

was the prison office, in which were a number of dapper, feeblefaced clerks at work on the prison records.

As I entered this space a squad of newly arrived prisoners were being searched for valuables, and having their

names, rank and regiment recorded in the books. Presently a clerk addressed as "Majah Tunnah," the man

who was superintending these operations, and I scanned him with increased interest, as I knew then that he

was the illfamed Dick Turner, hated all over the North for his brutality to our prisoners.

He looked as if he deserved his reputation. Seen upon the street he would be taken for a second or third class

gambler, one in whom a certain amount of cunning is pieced out by a readiness to use brute force. His face,

cleanshaved, except a "Boweryb'hoy" goatee, was white, fat, and selfishly sensual. Small, piglike eyes,

set close together, glanced around continually. His legs were short, his body long, and made to appear longer,

His faculties were at that moment absorbed in seeing that no person concealed any money from him. His

subordinates did not search closely enough to suit him, and he would run his fat, heavilyringed fingers

through the prisoner's hair, feel under their arms and elsewhere where he thought a stray five dollar

greenback might be concealed. But with all his greedy care he was no match for Yankee cunning. The

prisoners told me afterward that, suspecting they would be searched, they had taken off the caps of the large,

hollow brass buttons of their coats, carefully folded a bill into each cavity, and replaced the cap. In this way

There was one dirty old Englishman in the party, who, Turner was convinced, had money concealed about his

person. He compelled him to strip off everything, and stand shivering in the sharp cold, while he took up one

filthy rag after another, felt over each carefully, and scrutinized each seam and fold. I was delighted to see

that after all his nauseating work he did not find so much as a five cent piece.

It came my turn. I had no desire, in that frigid atmosphere, to strip down to what Artemus Ward called "the

skanderlous costoom of the Greek Slave;" so I pulled out of my pocket my little store of wealthten dollars

in greenbacks, sixty dollars in Confederate graybacksand displayed it as Turner came up with, "There's all

I have, sir." Turner pocketed it without a word, and did not search me. In after months, when I was nearly

famished, my estimation of "Majah Tunnah" was hardly enhanced by the reflection that what would have

purchased me many good meals was probably lost by him in betting on a pair of queens, when his opponent

I ventured to step into the office to inquire after my comrades. One of the wheyfaced clerks said with the

"Get out of here!" as if I had been a stray cur wandering in in search of a bone lunch.

I wanted to feed the fellow to a piledriver. The utmost I could hope for in the way of revenge was that the

delicate creature might some day make a mistake in parting his hair, and catch his death of cold.

The guard conducted us across the street, and into the third story of a building standing on the next corner

below. Here I found about four hundred men, mostly belonging to the Army of the Potomac, who crowded

around me with the usual questions to new prisoners: What was my Regiment, where and when captured,

It makes me shudder now to recall how often, during the dreadful months that followed, this momentous

question was eagerly propounded to every new comer: put with bated breath by men to whom exchange

meant all that they asked of this world, and possibly of the next; meant life, home, wife or sweetheart,

friends, restoration to manhood, and selfrespect everything, everything that makes existence in this world

I answered as simply and discouragingly as did the tens of thousands that came after me:

A soldier in the field had many other things of more immediate interest to think about than the exchange of

prisoners. The question only became a living issue when he or some of his intimate friends fell into the

I began acquainting myself with my new situation and surroundings. The building into which I had been

conducted was an old tobacco factory, called the "Pemberton building," possibly from an owner of that name,

and standing on the corner of what I was told were Fifteenth and Carey streets. In front it was four stories

high; behind but three, owing to the rapid rise of the hill, against which it was built.

It fronted towards the James River and Kanawha Canal, and the James Riverboth lying side by side, and

only one hundred yards distant, with no intervening buildings. The front windows afforded a fine view. To

the right front was Libby, with its guards pacing around it on the sidewalk, watching the fifteen hundred

officers confined within its walls. At intervals during each day squads of fresh prisoners could be seen

entering its dark mouth, to be registered, and searched, and then marched off to the prison assigned them. We

could see up the James River for a mile or so, to where the long bridges crossing it bounded the view.

Directly in front, across the river, was a flat, sandy plain, said to be General Winfield Scott's farm, and now

The view down the river was very fine. It extended about twelve miles, to where a gap in the woods seemed

to indicate a fort, which we imagined to be Fort Darling, at that time the principal fortification defending the

Between that point and where we were lay the river, in a long, broad mirrorlike expanse, like a pretty little

inland lake. Occasionally a busy little tug would bustle up or down, a gunboat move along with noiseless

dignity, suggestive of a reserved power, or a schooner beat lazily from one side to the other. But these were

so few as to make even more pronounced the customary idleness that hung over the scene. The tug's activity

seemed spasmodic and forceda sort of protest against the gradually increasing lethargy that reigned upon

the bosom of the waters the gunboat floated along as if performing a perfunctory duty, and the schooners

sailed about as if tired of remaining in one place. That little stretch of water was all that was left for a cruising

ground. Beyond Fort Darling the Union gunboats lay, and the only vessel that passed the barrier was the

The basement of the building was occupied as a storehouse for the taxes inkind which the Confederate

Government collected. On the first floor were about five hundred men. On the second floorwhere I

waswere about four hundred men. These were principally from the First Division, First Corps

distinguished by a round red patch on their caps; First Division, Second Corps, marked by a red clover leaf;

and the First Division, Third Corps, who wore a red diamond. They were mainly captured at Gettysburg and

Mine Run. Besides these there was a considerable number from the Eighth Corps, captured at Winchester,

and a large infusion of CavalryFirst, Second and Third West Virginiataken in Averill's desperate raid up

On the third floor were about two hundred sailors and marines, taken in the gallant but luckless assault upon

the ruins of Fort Sumter, in the September previous. They retained the discipline of the ship in their quarters,

kept themselves trim and clean, and their floor as white as a ship's deck. They did not court the society of the

"sojers" below, whose camp ideas of neatness differed from theirs. A few old barnaclebacks always sat on

guard around the head of the steps leading from the lower rooms. They chewed tobacco enormously, and kept

their mouths filled with the extracted juice. Any luckless "sojer" who attempted to ascend the stairs usually

For convenience in issuing rations we were divided into messes of twenty, each mess electing a Sergeant as

its head, and each floor electing a SergeantoftheFloor, who drew rations and enforced what little

Though we were not so neat as the sailors above us, we tried to keep our quarters reasonably clean, and we

washed the floor every morning; getting down on our knees and rubbing it clean and dry with rags. Each

mess detailed a man each day to wash up the part of the floor it occupied, and he had to do this properly or no

ration would be given him. While the washing up was going on each man stripped himself and made close

examination of his garments for the bodylice, which otherwise would have increased beyond control.

About eight o'clock a spruce little lisping rebel named Ross would appear with a book, and a bodyguard,

consisting of a big Irishman, who had the air of a Policeman, and carried a musket barrel made into a cane.

We formed along one side of the room; the guards halted at the head of the stairs; Ross walked down in front

and counted the files, closely followed by his Irish aid, with his gunbarrel cane raised ready for use upon

any one who should arouse his ruffianly ire. Breaking ranks we returned to our places, and sat around in

moody silence for three hours. We had eaten nothing since the previous noon. Rising hungry, our hunger

These times afforded an illustration of the thorough subjection of man to the tyrant Stomach. A more irritable

lot of individuals could scarcely be found outside of a menagerie than these men during the hours waiting for

rations. "Crosser than, two sticks" utterly failed as a comparison. They were crosser than the lines of a check

apron. Many could have given odds to the traditional bear with a sore head, and run out of the game fifty

points ahead of him. It was astonishingly easy to get up a fight at these times. There was no need of going a

step out of the way to search for it, as one could have a full fledged article of overwhelming size on his hands

at any instant, by a trifling indiscretion of speech or manner. All the old irritating flings between the cavalry,

the artillery and the infantry, the older "firstcall" men, and the later or "Three HundredDollarmen," as

they were derisively dubbed, between the different corps of the Army of the Potomac, between men of

different States, and lastly between the adherents and opponents of McClellan, came to the lips and were

answered by a blow with the fist, when a ring would be formed around the combatants by a crowd, which

would encourage them with yells to do their best. In a few minutes one of the parties to the fistic debate, who

found the point raised by him not well taken, would retire to the sink to wash the blood from his battered

face, and the rest would resume their seats and glower at space until some fresh excitement roused them. For

the last hour or so of these long waits hardly a word would be spoken. We were too illnatured to talk for

This spell was broken about eleven o'clock by the appearance at the head of the stairway of the Irishman with

Instantly every man sprang to his feet, and pressed forward to be one of the favored fourteen. One did not get

any more gyrations or obtain them any sooner by this, but it was a relief, and a change to walk the half square

For a little while after our arrival in Richmond, the rations were tolerably good. There had been so much said

about the privations of the prisoners that our Government had, after much quibbling and negotiation,

succeeded in getting the privilege of sending food and clothing through the lines to us. Of course but a small

part of that sent ever reached its destination. There were too many greedy Rebels along its line of passage to

let much of it be received by those for whom it was intended. We could see from our windows Rebels

strutting about in overcoats, in which the box wrinkles were still plainly visible, wearing new "U. S." blankets

as cloaks, and walking in Government shoes, worth fabulous prices in Confederate money.

Fortunately for our Government the rebels decided to out themselves off from this profitable source of

supply. We read one day in the Richmond papers that "President Davis and his Cabinet had come to the

conclusion that it was incompatible with the dignity of a sovereign power to permit another power with

I will not stop to argue this point of honor, and show its absurdity by pointing out that it is not an unusual

practice with nations at war. It is a sufficient commentary upon this assumption of punctiliousness that the

paper went on to say that some five tons of clothing and fifteen tons of food, which had been sent under a flag

of truce to City Point, would neither be returned nor delivered to us, but "converted to the use of the

But, to return to the rationsa topic which, with escape or exchange, were to be the absorbing ones for us

for the next fifteen months. There was now issued to every two men a loaf of coarse breadmade of a

mixture of flour and mealand about the size and shape of an ordinary brick. This half loaf was

accompanied, while our Government was allowed to furnish rations, with a small piece of corned beef.

Occasionally we got a sweet potato, or a halfpint or such a matter of soup made from a coarse, but

This, by the way, became a fruitful bone of contention during our stay in the South. One strong party among

us maintained that it was a bean, because it was shaped like one, and brown, which they claimed no pea ever

was. The other party held that it was a pea because its various names all agreed in describing it as a pea, and

because it was so full of bugs none being entirely free from insects, and some having as many as twelve by

actual countwithin its shell. This, they declared, was a distinctive characteristic of the pea family. The

contention began with our first instalment of the leguminous ration, and was still raging between the

survivors who passed into our lines in 1865. It waxed hot occasionally, and each side continually sought

evidence to support its view of the case. Once an old darky, sent into the prison on some errand, was

summoned to decide a hot dispute that was raging in the crowd to which I belonged. The champion of the pea

"Now, boys, keep still, till I put the question fairly. Now, uncle, what do they call that there?"

"But," broke in the leader of the bean party, "Uncle, don't they also call them beans?"

I will not attempt to bias the reader's judgment by saying which side I believed to be right. As the historic

British showman said, in reply to the question as to whether an animal in his collection was a rhinoceros or

The rations issued to us, as will be seen above, though they appear scanty, were still sufficient to support life

and health, and months afterward, in Andersonville, we used to look back to them as sumptuous. We usually

had them divided and eaten by noon, and, with the gnawings of hunger appeased, we spent the afternoon and

evening comfortably. We told stories, paced up and down, the floor for exercise, played cards, sung, read

what few books were available, stood at the windows and studied the landscape, and watched the Rebels

trying their guns and shells, and so on as long as it was daylight. Occasionally it was dangerous to be about

the windows. This depended wholly on the temper of the guards. One day a member of a Virginia regiment,

on guard on the pavement in front, deliberately left his beat, walked out into the center of the street, aimed his

gun at a member of the Ninth West Virginia, who was standing at a window near, and firing, shot him

through the heart, the bullet passing through his body, and through the floor above. The act was purely

malicious, and was done, doubtless, in revenge for some injury which our men had done the assassin or his

We were not altogether blameless, by any means. There were few opportunities to say bitterly offensive

The prisoners in the third floor of the Smith building, adjoining us, had their own way of teasing them. Late

at night, when everybody would be lying down, and out of the way of shots, a window in the third story

would open, a broomstick, with a piece nailed across to represent arms, and clothed with a cap and blouse,

would be protruded, and a voice coming from a man carefully protected by the wall, would inquire:

Then the voice would say, aggravatingly, "Oh, well, go to you Rebel , if you can't answer a

Before the speech was ended the guard's rifle would be at his shoulder and he would fire. Back would come

the blouse and hat in haste, only to go out again the next instant, with a derisive laugh, and

can't shoot for sour apples; if I couldn't shoot no better than you, Mr. Johnny Reb, I would "

By this time the guard, having his gun loaded again, would cut short the remarks with another shot, which,

followed up with similar remarks, would provoke still another, when an alarm sounding, the guards at Libby

and all the other buildings around us would turn out. An officer of the guard would go up with a squad into

the third floor, only to find everybody up there snoring away as if they were the Seven Sleepers. After

relieving his mind of a quantity of vigorous profanity, and threats to "buck and gag" and cut off the rations of

the whole room, the officer would return to his quarters in the guard house, but before he was fairly

ensconced there the cap and blouse would go out again, and the maddened guard be regaled with a spirited

and vividly profane lecture on the depravity of Rebels in general, and his own unworthiness in particular.

One night in January things took a more serious turn. The boys on the lower floor of our building had long

considered a plan of escape. There were then about fifteen thousand prisoners in Richmondten thousand on

Belle Isle and five thousand in the buildings. Of these one thousand five hundred were officers in Libby.

Besides there were the prisoners in Castles Thunder and Lightning. The essential features of the plan were

that at a preconcerted signal we at the, second and third floors should appear at the windows with bricks and

irons from the tobacco presses, which a should shower down on the guards and drive them away, while the

men of the first floor would pour out, chase the guards into the board house in the basement, seize their arms,

drive those away from around Libby and the other prisons, release the officers, organize into regiments and

brigades, seize the armory, set fire to the public buildings and retreat from the City, by the south side of the

James, where there was but a scanty force of Rebels, and more could be prevented from coming over by

It was a magnificent scheme, and might have been carried out, but there was no one in the building who was

But while it was being debated a few of the hot heads on the lower floor undertook to precipitate the crisis.

They seized what they thought was a favorable opportunity, overpowered the guard who stood at the foot of

the stairs, and poured into the street. The other guards fell back and opened fire on them; other troops

hastened up, and soon drove them back into the building, after killing ten or fifteen. We of the second and

third floors did not anticipate the break at that time, and were taken as much by surprise as were the Rebels.

Nearly all were lying down and many were asleep. Some hastened to the windows, and dropped missiles out,

but before any concerted action could be taken it was seen that the case was hopeless, and we remained quiet.

Among those who led in the assault was a drummerboy of some New York Regiment, a recklessly brave

little rascal. He had somehow smuggled a small fourshooter in with him, and when they rushed out he fired

After the prisoners were driven back, the Rebel officers came in and vapored around considerably, but

confined themselves to big words. They were particularly anxious to find the revolver, and ordered a general

and rigorous search for it. The prisoners were all ranged on one side of the room and carefully examined by

one party, while another hunted through the blankets and bundles. It was all in vain; no pistol could be found.

The boy had a loaf of wheat bread, bought from a baker during the day. It was a round loaf, set together in

two pieces like a biscuit. He pulled these apart, laid the fourshooter between them, pressed the two halves

together, and went on calmly nibbling away at the loaf while the search was progressing.

Two gunboats were brought up the next morning, and anchored in the canal near us, with their heavy guns

trained upon the building. It was thought that this would intimidate as from a repetition of the attack, but our

sailors conceived that, as they laid against the shore next to us, they could be easily captured, and their

artillery made to assist us. A scheme to accomplish this was being wrought out, when we received notice to

Few questions intimately connected with the actual operations of the Rebellion have been enveloped with

such a mass of conflicting statement as the responsibility for the interruption of the exchange. Southern

writers and politicians, naturally anxious to diminish as much as possible the great odium resting upon their

section for the treatment of prisoners of war during the last year and a half of the Confederacy's existence,

have vehemently charged that the Government of the United States deliberately and pitilessly resigned to

their fate such of its soldiers as fell into the hands of the enemy, and repelled all advances from the Rebel

Government looking toward a resumption of exchange. It is alleged on our side, on the other hand, that our

Government did all that was possible, consistent with National dignity and military prudence, to secure a

Over this vexed question there has been waged an acrimonious war of words, which has apparently led to no

decision, nor any convictionsthe disputants, one and all, remaining on the sides of the controversy

I may not be in possession of all the facts bearing upon the case, and may be warped in judgment by

prejudices in favor of my own Government's wisdom and humanity, but, however this may be, the following

1. For some time after the beginning of hostilities our Government refused to exchange prisoners with the

Rebels, on the ground that this might be held by the European powers who were seeking a pretext for

acknowledging the Confederacy, to be admission by us that the war was no longer an insurrection but a

revolution, which had resulted in the 'de facto' establishment of a new nation. This difficulty was finally

gotten over by recognizing the Rebels as belligerents, which, while it placed them on a somewhat different

plane from mere insurgents, did not elevate them to the position of soldiers of a foreign power.

2. Then the following cartel was agreed upon by Generals Dig on our side and Hill on that of the Rebels:

The undersigned, having been commissioned by the authorities they respectively represent to make

arrangements for a general exchange of prisoners of war, have agreed to the following articles:

ARTICLE I.It is hereby agreed and stipulated, that all prisoners of war, held by either party, including

those taken on private armed vessels, known as privateers, shall be exchanged upon the conditions and terms

Prisoners to be exchanged man for man and officer for officer. Privateers to be placed upon the footing of

Men and officers of lower grades may be exchanged for officers of a higher grade, and men and officers of

different services may be exchanged according to the following scale of equivalents:

A Generalcommandinginchief, or an Admiral, shall be exchanged for officers of equal rank, or for sixty

A Commodore, carrying a broad pennant, or a Brigadier General, shall be exchanged for officers of equal

A Captain in the Navy, or a Colonel, shall be exchanged for officers of equal rank, or for fifteen privates or

A Lieutenant Colonel, or Commander in the Navy, shall be exchanged for officers of equal rank, or for ten

A Lieutenant, or a Master in the Navy, or a Captain in the Army or marines shall be exchanged for officers of

Master'smates in the Navy, or Lieutenants or Ensigns in the Army, shall be exchanged for officers of equal

rank, or four privates or common seamen. Midshipmen, warrant officers in the Navy, masters of merchant

vessels and commanders of privateers, shall be exchanged for officers of equal rank, or three privates or

common seamen; Second Captains, Lieutenants or mates of merchant vessels or privateers, and all petty

officers in the Navy, and all noncommissioned officers in the Army or marines, shall be severally exchanged

for persons of equal rank, or for two privates or common seamen; and private soldiers or common seamen

ARTICLE II.Local, State, civil and militia rank held by persons not in actual military service will not be

recognized; the basis of exchange being the grade actually held in the naval and military service of the

ARTICLE III.If citizens held by either party on charges of disloyalty, or any alleged civil offense, are

exchanged, it shall only be for citizens. Captured sutlers, teamsters, and all civilians in the actual service of

ARTICLE IV.All prisoners of war to be discharged on parole in ten days after their capture; and the

prisoners now held, and those hereafter taken, to be transported to the points mutually agreed upon, at the

expense of the capturing party. The surplus prisoners not exchanged shall not be permitted to take up arms

again, nor to serve as military police or constabulary force in any fort, garrison or fieldwork, held by either

of the respective parties, nor as guards of prisoners, deposits or stores, nor to discharge any duty usually

performed by soldiers, until exchanged under the provisions of this cartel. The exchange is not to be

considered complete until the officer or soldier exchanged for has been actually restored to the lines to which

ARTICLE V.Each party upon the discharge of prisoners of the other party is authorized to discharge an

equal number of their own officers or men from parole, furnishing, at the same time, to the other party a list

of their prisoners discharged, and of their own officers and men relieved from parole; thus enabling each

party to relieve from parole such of their officers and men as the party may choose. The lists thus mutually

furnished, will keep both parties advised of the true condition of the exchange of prisoners.

ARTICLE VI.The stipulations and provisions above mentioned to be of binding obligation during the

continuance of the war, it matters not which party may have the surplus of prisoners; the great principles

involved being, First, An equitable exchange of prisoners, man for man, or officer for officer, or officers of

higher grade exchanged for officers of lower grade, or for privates, according to scale of equivalents. Second,

That privates and officers and men of different services may be exchanged according to the same scale of

equivalents. Third, That all prisoners, of whatever arm of service, are to be exchanged or paroled in ten days

from the time of their capture, if it be practicable to transfer them to their own lines in that time; if not, so

soon thereafter as practicable. Fourth, That no officer, or soldier, employed in the service of either party, is to

be considered as exchanged and absolved from his parole until his equivalent has actually reached the lines of

his friends. Fifth, That parole forbids the performance of field, garrison, police, or guard or constabulary

ARTICLE VII.All prisoners of war now held on either side, and all prisoners hereafter taken, shall be sent

with all reasonable dispatch to A. M. Aiken's, below Dutch Gap, on the James River, in Virginia, or to

Vicksburg, on the Mississippi River, in the State of Mississippi, and there exchanged of paroled until such

exchange can be effected, notice being previously given by each party of the number of prisoners it will send,

and the time when they will be delivered at those points respectively; and in case the vicissitudes of war shall

change the military relations of the places designated in this article to the contending parties, so as to render

the same inconvenient for the delivery and exchange of prisoners, other places bearing as nearly as may be

the present local relations of said places to the lines of said parties, shall be, by mutual agreement,

substituted. But nothing in this article contained shall prevent the commanders of the two opposing armies

from exchanging prisoners or releasing them on parole, at other points mutually agreed on by said

ARTICLE VIII.For the purpose of carrying into effect the foregoing articles of agreement, each party will

appoint two agents for the exchange of prisoners of war, whose duty it shall be to communicate with each

other by correspondence and otherwise; to prepare the lists of prisoners; to attend to the delivery of the

prisoners at the places agreed on, and to carry out promptly, effectually, and in good faith, all the details and

ARTICLE IX.And, in case any misunderstanding shall arise in regard to any clause or stipulation in the

foregoing articles, it is mutually agreed that such misunderstanding shall not affect the release of prisoners on

parole, as herein provided, but shall be made the subject of friendly explanation, in order that the object of

This plan did not work well. Men on both sides, who wanted a little rest from soldiering, could obtain it by so

straggling in the vicinity of the enemy. Their parolefollowing close upon their capture, frequently upon the

spotallowed them to visit home, and sojourn awhile where were pleasanter pastures than at the front. Then

the Rebels grew into the habit of paroling everybody that they could constrain into being a prisoner of war.

Peaceable, unwarlike and decrepit citizens of Kentucky, East Tennessee, West Virginia, Missouri and

Maryland were "captured" and paroled, and setoff against regular Rebel soldiers taken by us.

3. After some months of trial of this scheme, a modification of the cartel was agreed upon, the main feature of

which was that all prisoners must be reduced to possession, and delivered to the exchange officers either at

City Point, Va., or Vicksburg, Miss. This worked very well for some months, until our Government began

organizing negro troops. The Rebels then issued an order that neither these troops nor their officers should be

held as amenable to the laws of war, but that, when captured, the men should be returned to slavery, and the

officers turned over to the Governors of the States in which they were taken, to be dealt with according to the

stringent law punishing the incitement of servile insurrection. Our Government could not permit this for a

day. It was bound by every consideration of National honor to protect those who wore its uniform and bore

its flag. The Rebel Government was promptly informed that rebel officers and men would be held as hostages

for the proper treatment of such members of colored regiments as might be taken.

4. This discussion did not put a stop to the exchange, but while it was going on Vicksburg was captured, and

the battle of Gettysburg was fought. The first placed one of the exchange points in our hands. At the opening

of the fight at Gettysburg Lee captured some six thousand Pennsylvania militia. He sent to Meade to have

these exchanged on the field of battle. Meade declined to do so for two reasons: first, because it was against

the cartel, which prescribed that prisoners must be reduced to possession; and second, because he was

anxious to have Lee hampered with such a body of prisoners, since it was very doubtful if he could get his

beaten army back across the Potomac, let alone his prisoners. Lee then sent a communication to General

Couch, commanding the Pennsylvania militia, asking him to receive prisoners on parole, and Couch, not

knowing what Meade had done, acceded to the request. Our Government disavowed Couch's action instantly,

and ordered the paroles to be treated as of no force, whereupon the Rebel Government ordered back into the

5. The paroling now stopped abruptly, leaving in the hands of both sides the prisoners captured at Gettysburg,

except the militia above mentioned. The Rebels added considerably to those in their hands by their captures

at Chickamauga, while we gained a great many at Mission Ridge, Cumberland Gap and elsewhere, so that at

the time we arrived in Richmond the Rebels had about fifteen thousand prisoners in their hands and our

6. The rebels now began demanding that the prisoners on both sides be exchangedman for manas far as

they went, and the remainder paroled. Our Government offered to exchange man for man, but declinedon

account of the previous bad faith of the Rebelsto release the balance on parole. The Rebels also refused to

make any concessions in regard to the treatment of officers and men of colored regiments.

7. At this juncture General B. F. Butler was appointed to the command of the Department of the Blackwater,

which made him an exofficio Commissioner of Exchange. The Rebels instantly refused to treat with him, on

the ground that he was outlawed by the proclamation of Jefferson Davis. General Butler very pertinently

replied that this only placed him nearer their level, as Jefferson Davis and all associated with him in the Rebel

Government had been outlawed by the proclamation of President Lincoln. The Rebels scorned to notice this

8. On February 12, 1864, General Butler addressed a letter to the Rebel Commissioner Ould, in which be

asked, for the sake of humanity, that the questions interrupting the exchange be left temporarily in abeyance

while an informal exchange was put in operation. He would send five hundred prisoners to City Point; let

them be met by a similar number of Union prisoners. This could go on from day to day until all in each

The five hundred sent with the General's letter were received, and five hundred Union prisoners returned for

them. Another five hundred, sent the next day, were refused, and so this reasonable and humane proposition

This was the condition of affairs in February, 1864, when the Rebel authorities concluded to send us to

Andersonville. If the reader will fix these facts in his minds I will explain other phases as they develop.

The Winter days passed on, one by one, after the manner described in a former chapter,the mornings in

illnature hunger; the afternoons and evenings in tolerable comfort. The rations kept growing lighter and

lighter; the quantity of bread remained the same, but the meat diminished, and occasional days would pass

without any being issued. Then we receive a pint or less of soup made from the beans or peas before

mentioned, but this, too, suffered continued change, in the gradually increasing proportion of James River

The water of the James River is doubtless excellent: it looks wellat a distanceand is said to serve the

purposes of ablution and navigation admirably. There seems to be a limit however, to the extent of its

advantageous combination with the bean (or pea) for nutritive purposes. This, though, was or view of the

case, merely, and not shared in to any appreciably extent by the gentlemen who were managing our boarding

house. We seemed to view the matter through allopathic spectacles, they through homoeopathic lenses. We

thought that the atomic weight of peas (or beans) and the James River fluid were about equal, which would

indicate that the proper combining proportions would be, say a bucket of beans (or peas) to a bucket of water.

They held that the nutritive potency was increased by the dilution, and the best results were obtainable when

the symptoms of hunger were combated by the trituration of a bucketful of the peasbeans with a barrel of

My first experience with this "flat" soup was very instructive, if not agreeable. I had come into prison, as did

most other prisoners, absolutely destitute of dishes, or cooking utensils. The wellused, halfcanteen

fryingpan, the blackened quart cup, and the spoon, which formed the usual kitchen outfit of the cavalryman

in the field, were in the haversack on my saddle, and were lost to me when I separated from my horse. Now,

when we were told that we were to draw soup, I was in great danger of losing my ration from having no

vessel in which to receive it. There were but few tin cups in the prison, and these were, of course, wanted by

their owners. By great good fortune I found an empty fruit can, holding about a quart. I was also lucky

enough to find a piece from which to make a bail. I next manufactured a spoon and knife combined from a bit

These two humble utensils at once placed myself and my immediate chums on another plane, as far as

worldly goods were concerned. We were better off than the mass, and as well off as the most fortunate. It was

a curious illustration of that law of political economy which teaches that socalled intrinsic value is largely

adventitious. Their possession gave us infinitely more consideration among our fellows than would the

possession of a brownstone front in an eligible location, furnished with hot and cold water throughout, and

all the modern improvements. It was a place where cooking utensils were in demand, and titledeeds to

brown stone fronts were not. We were in possession of something which every one needed every day, and,

therefore, were persons of consequence and consideration to those around us who were present or prospective

On our side we obeyed another law of political economy: We clung to our property with unrelaxing tenacity,

made the best use of it in our intercourse with our fellows, and only gave it up after our release and entry into

a land where the plenitude of cooking utensils of superior construction made ours valueless. Then we flung

them into the sea, with little gratitude for the great benefit they had been to us. We were more anxious to get

But, to return to the alleged soup: As I started to drink my first ration it seemed to me that there was a

superfluity of bugs upon its surface. Much as I wanted animal food, I did not care for fresh meat in that form.

I skimmed them off carefully, so as to lose as little soup as possible. But the top layer seemed to be underlaid

with another equally dense. This was also skimmed off as deftly as possible. But beneath this appeared

another layer, which, when removed, showed still another; and so on, until I had scraped to the bottom of the

can, and the last of the bugs went with the last of my soup. I have before spoken of the remarkable bug

fecundity of the beans (or peas). This was a demonstration of it. Every scouped out pea (or bean) which found

its way into the soup bore inside of its shell from ten to twenty of these hard crusted little weevil. Afterward

I drank my soup without skimming. It was not that I hated the weevil less, but that I loved the soup more. It

was only another step toward a closer conformity to that grand rule which I have made the guiding maxim of

The room in which we were was barely large enough for all of us to lie down at once. Even then it required

pretty close "spooning" together so close in fact that all sleeping along one side would have to turn at once.

It was funny to watch this operation. All, for instance, would be lying on their right sides. They would begin

to get tired, and one of the wearied ones would sing out to the Sergeant who was in command of the row

"All right. Attention ! LEFT SPOON!! and the whole line would at once flop over on their left sides.

The feet of the row that slept along the east wall on the floor below us were in a line with the edge of the

outer door, and a chalk line drawn from the crack between the door and the frame to the opposite wall would

touch, say 150 pairs of feet. They were a noisy crowd down there, and one night their noise so provoked the

guard in front of the door that he called out to them to keep quiet or he would fire in upon them. They greeted

this threat with a chorus profanely uncomplimentary to the purity of the guard's ancestry; they did not imply

his descent a la Darwin, from the remote monkey, but more immediate generation by a common domestic

animal. The incensed Rebel opened the door wide enough to thrust his gun in, and he fired directly down the

line of toes. His piece was apparently loaded with buckshot, and the little balls must have struck the legs,

nipped off the toes, pierced the feet, and otherwise slightly wounded the lower extremities of fifty men. The

simultaneous shriek that went up was deafening. It was soon found out that nobody had been hurt seriously,

One of the prisoners in Libby was Brigadier General Neal Dow, of Maine, who had then a National

reputation as a Temperance advocate, and the author of the famous Maine Liquor Law. We, whose places

were near the front window, used to see him frequently on the street, accompanied by a guard. He was

allowed, we understood, to visit our sick in the hospital. His long, snowy beard and hair gave him a venerable

Newsboys seemed to be a thing unknown in Richmond. The papers were sold on the streets by negro men.

The one who frequented our section with the morning journals had a mellow; rich baritone for which we

would be glad to exchange the shrill cries of our street Arabs. We long remembered him as one of the

peculiar features of Richmond. He had one unvarying formula for proclaiming his wares. It ran in this wise:

It did not matter to him that the Rebels had not been at some of these places for months. He would not change

for such mere trifles as the entire evaporation of all possible interest connected with Chattanooga and

Alexandria. He was a true Bourbon Southernerhe learned nothing and forgot nothing.

There was a considerable trade driven between the prisoners and the guard at the door. This was a very

lucrative position for the latter, and men of a commercial turn of mind generally managed to get stationed

there. The blockade had cut off the Confederacy's supplies from the outer world, and the many trinkets about

a man's person were in good demand at high prices. The men of the Army of the Potomac, who were paid

regularly, and were always near their supplies, had their pockets filled with combs, silk handkerchiefs,

knives, neckties, gold pens, pencils, silver watches, playing cards, dice, etc. Such of these as escaped

appropriation by their captors and Dick Turner, were eagerly bought by the guards, who paid fair prices in

Confederate money, or traded wheat bread, tobacco, daily papers, etc., for them.

There was also considerable brokerage in money, and the manner of doing this was an admirable

exemplification of the folly of the "fiat" money idea. The Rebels exhausted their ingenuity in framing laws to

sustain the purchasing power of their paper money. It was made legal tender for all debts public and private;

it was decreed that the man who refused to take it was a public enemy; all the considerations of patriotism

were rallied to its support, and the law provided that any citizens found trafficking in the money of the

enemyi.e., greenbacks, should suffer imprisonment in the Penitentiary, and any soldier so offending should

Notwithstanding all this, in Richmond, the head and heart of the Confederacy, in January, 1864long before

the Rebel cause began to look at all desperateit took a dollar to buy such a loaf of bread as now sells for

ten cents; a newspaper was a half dollar, and everything else in proportion. And still worse: There was not a

day during our stay in Richmond but what one could go to the hole in the door before which the guard was

And be sure that the reply would be, after a furtive glance around to see that no officer was watching:

The Yankee would reply; the Rebel would walk to the farther end of his beat, count out the necessary

amount, and, returning, put up one hand with it, while with the other he caught hold of one end of the

Yankee's greenback. At the word, both would release their holds simultaneously, the exchange was complete,

and the Rebel would pace industriously up and down his beat with the air of the school boy who "ain't been

There was never any risk in approaching any guard with a proposition of this kind. I never heard of one

refusing to trade for greenbacks, and if the men on guard could not be restrained by these stringent laws, what

One day we were favored with a visit from the redoubtable General John H. Morgan, next to J. E. B. Stuart

the greatest of Rebel cavalry leaders. He had lately escaped from the Ohio Penitentiary. He was invited to

Richmond to be made a Major General, and was given a grand ovation by the citizens and civic Government.

He came into our building to visit a number of the First Kentucky Cavalry (loyal)captured at New

Philadelphia, East Tennesseewhom he was anxious to have exchanged for men of his own regimentthe

First Kentucky Cavalry (Rebel)who were captured at the same time he was. I happened to get very close to

him while he was standing there talking to his old acquaintances, and I made a mental photograph of him,

which still retains all its original distinctness. He was a tall, heavy man, with a full, coarse, and somewhat

dull face, and lazy, sluggish gray eyes. His long black hair was carefully oiled, and turned under at the ends,

as was the custom with the rural beaux some years ago. His face was clean shaved, except a large, sandy

goatee. He wore a high silk hat, a black broadcloth coat, Kentucky jeans pantaloons, neatly fitting boots, and

no vest. There was nothing remotely suggestive of unusual ability or force of character, and I thought as I

studied him that the sting of George D. Prentice's bon mot about him was in its acrid truth. Said Mr. Prentice:

"Why don't somebody put a pistol to Basil Duke's head, and blow John Morgan's brains out!" [Basil Duke

Before going any further in this narrative it may be well to state that the nomenclature employed is not used

in any odious or disparaging sense. It is simply the adoption of the usual terms employed by the soldiers of

both sides in speaking to or of each other. We habitually spoke of them and to them, as "Rebels," and

"Johnnies ;" they of and to us, as "Yanks," and "Yankees." To have said "Confederates," "Southerners,"

"Secessionists," or "Federalists," "Unionists," "Northerners" or "Nationalists," would have seemed useless

euphemism. The plainer terms suited better, and it was a day when things were more important than names.

For some inscrutable reason the Rebels decided to vaccinate us all. Why they did this has been one of the

unsolved problems of my life. It is true that there was small pox in the City, and among the prisoners at

Danville; but that any consideration for our safety should have led them to order general inoculation is not

among the reasonable inferences. But, be that as it may, vaccination was ordered, and performed. By great

good luck I was absent from the building with the squad drawing rations, when our room was inoculated, so I

escaped what was an infliction to all, and fatal to many. The direst consequences followed the operation. Foul

ulcers appeared on various parts of the bodies of the vaccinated. In many instances the arms literally rotted

off; and death followed from a corruption of the blood. Frequently the faces, and other parts of those who

recovered, were disfigured by the ghastly cicatrices of healed ulcers. A special friend of mine, Sergeant Frank

Beverstockthen a member of the Third Virginia Cavalry, (loyal), and after the war a banker in Bowling

Green, O.,bore upon his temple to his dying day, (which occurred a year ago), a fearful scar, where the

flesh had sloughed off from the effects of the virus that had tainted his blood.

This I do not pretend to account for. We thought at the time that the Rebels had deliberately poisoned the

vaccine matter with syphilitic virus, and it was so charged upon them. I do not now believe that this was so; I

can hardly think that members of the humane profession of medicine would be guilty of such subtle

diabolismworse even than poisoning the wells from which an enemy must drink. The explanation with

which I have satisfied myself is that some careless or stupid practitioner took the vaccinating lymph from

diseased human bodies, and thus infected all with the blood venom, without any conception of what he was

doing. The low standard of medical education in the South makes this theory quite plausible.

We now formed the acquaintance of a species of human vermin that united with the Rebels, cold, hunger, lice

and the oppression of distraint, to leave nothing undone that could add to the miseries of our prison life.

These were the fledglings of the slums and dives of New Yorkgraduates of that metropolitan sink of

iniquity where the rogues and criminals of the whole world meet for mutual instruction in vice.

They were men who, as a rule, had never known, a day of honesty and cleanliness in their misspent lives;

whose fathers, brothers and constant companions were roughs, malefactors and, felons; whose mothers, wives

and sisters were prostitutes, procuresses and thieves; men who had from infancy lived in an atmosphere of

sin, until it saturated every fiber of their being as a dweller in a jungle imbibes malaria by every one of his,

They included representatives from all nationalities, and their descendants, but the English and Irish elements

predominated. They had an argot peculiar to themselves. It was partly made up of the "flash" language of the

London thieves, amplified and enriched by the cant vocabulary and the jargon of crime of every European

tongue. They spoke it with a peculiar accent and intonation that made them instantly recognizable from the

roughs of all other Cities. They called themselves "N'Yaarkers;" we came to know them as "Raiders."

If everything in the animal world has its counterpart among men, then these were the wolves, jackals and

hyenas of the race at once cowardly and fierceaudaciously bold when the power of numbers was on their

side, and cowardly when confronted with resolution by anything like an equality of strength.

Like all other roughs and rascals of whatever degree, they were utterly worthless as soldiers. There may have

been in the Army some habitual corner loafer, some fistic champion of the barroom and brothel, some

Terror of Plug Uglyville, who was worth the salt in the hard tack he consumed, but if there were, I did not

form his acquaintance, and I never heard of any one else who did. It was the rule that the man who was the

readiest in the use of fist and slungshot at home had the greatest diffidence about forming a close

acquaintance with cold lead in the neighborhood of the front. Thousands of the socalled "dangerous classes"

were recruited, from whom the Government did not receive so much service as would pay for the buttons on

their uniforms. People expected that they would make themselves as troublesome to the Rebels as they were

to good citizens and the Police, but they were only pugnacious to the provost guard, and terrible to the people

The highest type of soldier which the world has yet produced is the intelligent, selfrespecting American boy,

with home, and father and mother and friends behind him, and duty in front beckoning him on. In the sixty

centuries that war has been a profession no man has entered its ranks so calmly resolute in confronting

danger, so shrewd and energetic in his aggressiveness, so tenacious of the defense and the assault, so certain

to rise swiftly to the level of every emergency, as the boy who, in the good old phrase, had been

"wellraised" in a Godfearing home, and went to the field in obedience to a conviction of duty. His unfailing

courage and good sense won fights that the incompetency or cankering jealousy of commanders had lost.

High officers were occasionally disloyal, or willing to sacrifice their country to personal pique; still more

frequently they were ignorant and inefficient; but the enlisted man had more than enough innate soldiership

to make amends for these deficiencies, and his superb conduct often brought honors and promotions to those

Our "N'Yaarkers," swift to see any opportunity for dishonest gain, had taken to bountyjumping, or, as they

termed it, "leppin' the bounty," for a livelihood. Those who were thrust in upon us had followed this until it

had become dangerous, and then deserted to the Rebels. The latter kept them at Castle Lightning for awhile,

and then, rightly estimating their character, and considering that it was best to trade them off for a genuine

Rebel soldier, sent them in among us, to be exchanged regularly with us. There was not so much good faith as

good policy shown by this. It was a matter of indifference to the Rebels how soon our Government shot these

deserters after getting them in its hands again. They were only anxious to use them to get their own men

The moment they came into contact with us our troubles began. They stole whenever opportunities offered,

and they were indefatigable in making these offer; they robbed by actual force, whenever force would avail;

and more obsequious lickspittles to power never existedthey were perpetually on the lookout for a

I saw one day a queer illustration of the audacious side of these fellows' characters, and it shows at the same

time how brazen effrontery will sometimes get the better of courage. In a room in an adjacent building were a

number of these fellows, and a still greater number of East Tennesseeans. These latter were simple, ignorant

folks, but reasonably courageous. About fifty of them were sitting in a group in one corner of the room, and

near them a couple or three "N'Yaarkers." Suddenly one of the latter said with an oath:

"I was robbed last night; I lost two silver watches, a couple of rings, and about fifty dollars in greenbacks. I

This was all pure invention; he no more had the things mentioned than. he had purity of heart and a Christian

spirit, but the unsophisticated Tennesseeans did not dream of disputing his statement, and answered in

This was like the reply of the lamb to the wolf, in the fable, and the N'Yaarker retorted with a simulated

" I know ye did; I know some uv yez has got them; stand up agin the wall there till I search yez!"

And that whole fifty men, any one of whom was physically equal to the N'Yaarker, and his superior in point

of real courage, actually stood against the wall, and submitted to being searched and having taken from them

the few Confederate bills they had, and such trinkets as the searcher took a fancy to.

In February my chumB. B. Andrews, now a physician in Astoria, Illinois was brought into our building,

greatly to my delight and astonishment, and from him I obtained the much desired news as to the fate of my

comrades. He told me they had been sent to Belle Isle, whither he had gone, but succumbing to the rigors of

that dreadful place, he had been taken to the hospital, and, upon his convalesence, placed in our prison.

Our men were suffering terribly on the island. It was low, damp, and swept by the bleak, piercing winds that

howled up and down the surface of the James. The first prisoners placed on the island had been given tents

that afforded them some shelter, but these were all occupied when our battalion came in, so that they were

compelled to lie on the snow and frozen ground, without shelter, covering of any kind, or fire. During this

The rations had been much worse than ours. The socalled soup had been diluted to a ridiculous thinness, and

meat had wholly disappeared. So intense became the craving for animal food, that one day when Lieutenant

Boisseuxthe Commandantstrolled into the camp with his beloved white bullterrier, which was as fat as

a Cheshire pig, the latter was decoyed into a tent, a blanket thrown over him, his throat cut within a rod of

where his master was standing, and he was then skinned, cut up, cooked, and furnished a savory meal to

When Boisseux learned of the fate of his fourfooted friend he was, of course, intensely enraged, but that

was all the good it did him. The only revenge possible was to sentence more prisoners to ride the cruel

Four of our company were already dead. Jacob Lowry and John Beach were standing near the gate one day

when some one snatched the guard's blanket from the post where he had hung it, and ran. The enraged sentry

leveled his gun and fired into the crowd. The balls passed through Lowry's and Beach's breasts. Then Charley

Osgood, son of our Lieutenant, a quiet, fairhaired, pleasantspoken boy, but as brave and earnest as his

gallant father, sank under the combination of hunger and cold. One stinging morning he was found stiff and

One of the mysteries of our company was a tall, slender, elderly Scotchman, who appeared on the rolls as

William Bradford. What his past life had been, where he had lived, what his profession, whether married or

single, no one ever knew. He came to us while in Camp of Instruction near Springfield, Illinois, and seemed

to have left all his past behind him as he crossed the line of sentries around the camp. He never received any

letters, and never wrote any; never asked for a furlough or pass, and never expressed a wish to be elsewhere

than in camp. He was courteous and pleasant, but very reserved. He interfered with no one, obeyed orders

promptly and without remark, and was always present for duty. Scrupulously neat in dress, always as

cleanshaved as an old fashioned gentleman of the world, with manners and conversation that showed him

to have belonged to a refined and polished circle, he was evidently out of place as a private soldier in a

company of reckless and nonetoorefined young Illinois troopers, but he never availed himself of any of the

numerous opportunities offered to change his associations. His elegant penmanship would have secured him

an easy berth and better society at headquarters, but he declined to accept a detail. He became an exciting

mystery to a knot of us imaginative young cubs, who sorted up out of the reminiscential ragbag of high

colors and strong contrasts with which the sensational literature that we most affected had plentifully stored

our minds, a halfdozen intensely emotional careers for him. We spent much time in mentally trying these

on, and discussing which fitted him best. We were always expecting a denouement that would come like a

lightning flash and reveal his whole mysterious past, showing him to have been the disinherited scion of

some noble house, a man of high station, who was expiating some fearful crime; an accomplished villain

eluding his pursuersin short, a Somebody who would be a fitting hero for Miss Braddon's or Wilkie

Collins's literary purposes. We never got but two clues of his past, and they were faint ones. One day, he left

lying near me a small copy of "Paradise Lost," that he always carried with him. Turning over its leaves I

found all of Milton's bitter invectives against women heavily underscored. Another time, while on guard with

him, he spent much of his time in writing some Latin verses in very elegant chirography upon the white

painted boards of a fence along which his beat ran. We pressed in all the available knowledge of Latin about

camp, and found that the tenor of the verses was very uncomplimentary to that charming sex which does us

the honor of being our mothers and sweethearts. These evidences we accepted as sufficient demonstration

that there was a woman at the bottom of the mystery, and made us more impatient for further developments.

These were never to come. Bradford pined away an Belle Isle, and grew weaker, but no less reserved, each

day. At length, one bitter cold night ended it all. He was found in the morning stone dead, with his irongray

hair frozen fast to the ground, upon which he lay. Our mystery had to remain unsolved. There was nothing

As each lagging day closed, we confidently expected that the next would bring some news of the

eagerlydesired exchange. We hopefully assured each other that the thing could not be delayed much longer;

that the Spring was near, the campaign would soon open, and each government would make an effort to get

all its men into the field, and this would bring about a transfer of prisoners. A Sergeant of the Seventh Indiana

"You know I'm just old lightnin' on chuckaluck. Now the way I bet is this: I lay down, say on the ace, an' it

don't come up; I just double my bet on the ace, an' keep on doublin' every time it loses, until at last it comes

up an' then I win a bushel o' money, and mebbe bust the bank. You see the thing's got to come up some time;

an' every time it don't come up makes it more likely to come up the next time. It's just the same way with this

'ere exchange. The thing's got to happen some day, an' every day that it don't happen increases the chances

Some months later I folded the sanguine Sergeant's stiffening hands together across his fleshless ribs, and

helped carry his body out to the deadhouse at Andersonville, in order to get a piece of wood to cook my

On the evening of the 17th of February, 1864, we were ordered to get ready to move at daybreak the next

morning. We were certain this could mean nothing else than exchange, and our exaltation was such that we

did little sleeping that night. The morning was very cold, but we sang and joked as we marched over the

creaking bridge, on our way to the cars. We were packed so tightly in these that it was impossible to even sit

down, and we rolled slow ly away after a wheezing engine to Petersburg, whence we expected to march to

the exchange post. We reached Petersburg before noon, and the cars halted there along time, we momentarily

expecting an order to get out. Then the train started up and moved out of the City toward the southeast. This

was inexplicable, but after we had proceeded this way for several hours some one conceived the idea that the

Rebels, to avoid treating with Butler, were taking us into the Department of some other commander to

Night found us at Gaston, N. C., where we received a few crackers for rations, and changed cars. It was dark,

and we resorted to a little strategy to secure more room. About thirty of us got into a tight box car, and

immediately announced that it was too full to admit any more. When an officer came along with another

squad to stow away, we would yell out to him to take some of the men out, as we were crowded unbearably.

In the mean time everybody in the car would pack closely around the door, so as to give the impression that

"Stand still there, and be counted," while he would gravely count up to one hundred or one hundred and

twenty, which was the utmost limit of the car, and the Rebel would hurry off to put his prisoners somewhere

else. We managed to play this successfully during the whole journey, and not only obtained room to lie down

in the car, but also drew three or four times as many rations as were intended for us, so that while we at no

time had enough, we were farther from starvation than our less strategic companions.

The second afternoon we arrived at Raleigh, the capitol of North Carolina, and were camped in a piece of

timber, and shortly after dark orders were issued to us all to lie flat on the ground and not rise up till daylight.

About the middle of the night a man belonging to a New Jersey regiment, who had apparently forgotten the

For four or five days more the decrepit little locomotive strained along, dragging after it the rattling' old cars.

The scenery was intensely monotonous. It was a flat, almost unending, stretch of pine barrens and the land so

poor that a disgusted Illinoisan, used to the fertility of the great American Bottom, said rather strongly, that,

"By George, they'd have to manure this ground before they could even make brick out of it."

It was a surprise to all of us who had heard so much of the wealth of Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina

We had still no idea of where we were going. We only knew that our general course was southward, and that

we had passed through the Carolinas, and were in Georgia. We furbished up our school knowledge of

geography and endeavored to recall something of the location of Raleigh, Charlotte, Columbia and Augusta,

Late on the afternoon of the 25th of February the Seventh Indiana Sergeant approached me with the inquiry:

It seemed to me that I had read something of Macon in Revolutionary history, and that it was a fort on the sea

coast. He said that the guard had told him that we were to be taken to a point near that place, and we agreed

that it was probably a new place of exchange. A little later we passed through the town of Macon, Ga, and

About midnight the train stopped, and we were ordered off. We were in the midst of a forest of tall trees that

loaded the air with the heavy balsamic odor peculiar to pine trees. A few small rude houses were scattered

Stretching out into the darkness was a double row of great heaps of burning pitch pine, that smoked and

flamed fiercely, and lit up a little space around in the somber forest with a ruddy glare. Between these two

The scene was weird and uncanny. I had recently read the "Iliad," and the long lines of huge fires reminded

me of that scene in the first book, where the Greeks burn on the sea shore the bodies of those smitten by

For nine long nights, through all the dusky air, The pyres, thick flaming shot a dismal glare.

Five hundred weary men moved along slowly through double lines of guards. Five hundred men marched

silently towards the gates that were to shut out life and hope from most of them forever. A quarter of a mile

from the railroad we came to a massive palisade of great squared logs standing upright in the ground. The

fires blazed up and showed us a section of these, and two massive wooden gates, with heavy iron hinges and

bolts. They swung open as we stood there and we passed through into the space beyond.

As the next nine months of the existence of those of us who survived were spent in intimate connection with

the soil of Georgia, and, as it exercised a potential influence upon our comfort and wellbeing, or rather lack

of thesea mention of some of its peculiar characteristics may help the reader to a fuller comprehension of

Georgia, which, next to Texas, is the largest State in the South, and has nearly twentyfive per cent. more

area than the great State of New York, is divided into two distinct and widely differing sections, by a

geological line extending directly across the State from Augusta, on the Savannah River, through Macon, on

the Ocmulgee, to Columbus, on the Chattahoochie. That part lying to the north and west of this line is usually

spoken of as "Upper Georgia;" while that lying to the south and east, extending to the Atlantic Ocean and the

Florida line, is called "Lower Georgia." In this part of the Statethough far removed from each otherwere

the prisons of Andersonville, Savannah, Millen and Blackshear, in which we were incarcerated one after the

Upper Georgiathe capital of which is Atlantais a fruitful, productive, metalliferous region, that will in

time become quite wealthy. Lower Georgia, which has an extent about equal to that of Indiana, is not only

poorer now than a wornout province of Asia Minor, but in all probability will ever remain so.

It is a starved, sterile land, impressing one as a desert in the first stages of reclamation into productive soil, or

a productive soil in the last steps of deterioration into a desert. It is a vast expanse of arid, yellow sand,

broken at intervals by foul swamps, with a junglelife growth of unwholesome vegetation, and teeming With

The original forest still stands almost unbroken on this wide stretch of thirty thousand square miles, but it

does not cover it as we say of forests in more favored lands. The tall, solemn pines, upright and symmetrical

as huge masts, and wholly destitute of limbs, except the little, umbrellalike crest at the very top, stand far

apart from each other in an unfriendly isolation. There is no fraternal interlacing of branches to form a kindly,

umbrageous shadow. Between them is no genial undergrowth of vines, shrubs, and demitrees, generous in

fruits, berries and nuts, such as make one of the charms of Northern forests. On the ground is no rich,

springing sod of emerald green, fragrant with the elusive sweetness of white clover, and dainty flowers, but a

sparse, wiry, famished grass, scattered thinly over the surface in tufts and patches, like the hair on a mangy

The giant pines seem to have sucked up into their immense boles all the nutriment in the earth, and starved

out every minor growth. So wide and clean is the space between them, that one can look through the forest in

any direction for miles, with almost as little interference with the view as on a prairie. In the swampier parts

the trees are lower, and their limbs are hung with heavy festoons of the gloomy Spanish moss, or "death

moss," as it is more frequently called, because where it grows rankest the malaria is the deadliest.

I have long entertained a peculiar theory to account for the decadence and ruin of countries. My reading of

the world's history seems to teach me that when a strong people take possession of a fertile land, they reduce

it to cultivation, thrive upon its bountifulness, multiply into millions the mouths to be fed from it, tax it to the

last limit of production of the necessities of life, take from it continually, and give nothing back, starve and

overwork it as cruel, grasping men do a servant or a beast, and when at last it breaks down under the strain, it

revenges itself by starving many of them with great famines, while the others go off in search of new

countries to put through the same process of exhaustion. We have seen one country after another undergo this

process as the seat of empire took its westward way, from the cradle of the race on the banks of the Oxus to

the fertile plains in the Valley of the Euphrates. Impoverishing these, men next sought the Valley of the Nile,

then the Grecian Peninsula; next Syracuse and the Italian Peninsula, then the Iberian Peninsula, and the

African shores of the Mediterranean. Exhausting all these, they were deserted for the French, German and

English portions of Europe. The turn of the latter is now come; famines are becoming terribly frequent, and

Lower Georgia, the Carolinas and Eastern Virginia have all the characteristics of these starved and wornout

lands. It would seem as if, away back in the distance of ages, some numerous and civilized race had drained

from the soil the last atom of foodproducing constituents, and that it is now slowly gathering back, as the

Lower Georgia is very thinly settled. Much of the land is still in the hands of the Government. The three or

four railroads which pass through it have little reference to local traffic. There are no towns along them as a

rule; stations are made every ten miles, and not named, but numbered, as "Station No. 4" No. 10," etc. The

roads were built as through lines, to bring to the seaboard the rich products of the interior.

Andersonville is one of the few stations dignified with a same, probably because it contained some half dozen

of shabby houses, whereas at the others there was usually nothing more than a mere open shed, to shelter

goods and travelers. It is on a rudely constructed, rickety railroad, that runs from Macon to Albany, the head

of navigation on the Flint River, which is, one hundred and six miles from Macon, and two hundred and fifty

from the Gulf of Mexico. Andersonville is about sixty miles from Macon, and, consequently, about three

hundred miles from the Gulf. The camp was merely a hole cut in the wilderness. It was as remote a point

from, our armies, as they then lay, as the Southern Confederacy could give. The nearest was Sherman, at

Chattanooga, four hundred miles away, and on the other side of a range of mountains hundreds of miles wide.

To us it seemed beyond the last forlorn limits of civilization. We felt that we were more completely at the

mercy of our foes than ever. While in Richmond we were in the heart of the Confederacy; we were in the

midst of the Rebel military and, civil force, and were surrounded on every hand by visible evidences of the

great magnitude of that power, but this, while it enforced our ready submission, did not overawe us

depressingly, We knew that though the Rebels were all about us in great force, our own men were also near,

and in still greater forcethat while they were very strong our army was still stronger, and there was no

telling what day this superiority of strength, might be demonstrated in such a way as to decisively benefit us.

Alone on a wide, wide sea, So lonely 'twas that God himself Scarce seemed there to be.

We roused up promptly with the dawn to take a survey of our new abiding place. We found ourselves in an

immense pen, about one thousand feet long by eight hundred wide, as a young surveyora member of the

Thirty fourth Ohioinformed us after he had paced it off. He estimated that it contained about sixteen

acres. The walls were formed by pine logs twentyfive feet long, from two to three feet in diameter, hewn

square, set into the ground to a depth of five feet, and placed so close together as to leave no crack through

which the country outside could be seen. There being five feet of the logs in the ground, the wall was, of

course, twenty feet high. This manner of enclosure was in some respects superior to a wall of masonry. It was

The pen was Longest due north and south. It was! divided in the center by a creek about a yard wide and ten

inches deep, running from west to east. On each side of this was a quaking bog of slimy ooze one hundred

and fifty feet wide, and so yielding that one attempting to walk upon it would sink to the waist. From this

swamp the sandhills sloped north and south to the stockade. All the trees inside the stockade, save two, had

been cut down and used in its construction. All the rank vegetation of the swamp had also been cut off.

There were two entrances to the stockade, one on each side of the creek, midway between it and the ends, and

called respectively the "North Gate" and the " South Gate." These were constructed double, by building

smaller stockades around them on the outside, with another set of gates. When prisoners or wagons with

rations were brought in, they were first brought inside the outer gates, which were carefully secured, before

the inner gates were opened. This was done to prevent the gates being carried by a rush by those confined

At regular intervals along the palisades were little perches, upon which stood guards, who overlooked the

The only view we had of the outside was that obtained by looking from the highest points of the North or

South Sides across the depression where the stockade crossed the swamp. In this way we could see about

forty acres at a time of the adjoining woodland, or say one hundred and sixty acres altogether, and this

Before our inspection was finished, a wagon drove in with rations, and a quart of meal, a sweet potato and a

In a few minutes we were all hard at work preparing our first meal in Andersonville. The debris of the forest

left a temporary abundance of fuel, and we had already a cheerful fire blazing for every little squad. There

were a number of tobacco presses in the rooms we occupied in Richmond, and to each of these was a quantity

of sheets of tin, evidently used to put between the layers of tobacco. The deft hands of the mechanics among

us bent these up into square pans, which were real handy cooking utensils, holding abouta quart. Water

was carried in them from the creek; the meal mixed in them to a dough, or else boiled as mush in the same

vessels; the potatoes were boiled; and their final service was to hold a little meal to be carefully browned, and

then water boiled upon it, so as to form a feeble imitation of coffee. I found my education at Jonesville in the

art of baking a hoecake now came in good play, both for myself and companions. Taking one of the pieces

of tin which had not yet been made into a pan, we spread upon it a layer of dough about a halfinch thick.

Propping this up nearly upright before the fire, it was soon nicely browned over. This process made it sweat

itself loose from the tin, when it was turned over and the bottom browned also. Save that it was destitute of

salt, it was quite a toothsome bit of nutriment for a hungry man, and I recommend my readers to try making a

The supreme indifference with which the Rebels always treated the matter of cooking utensils for us, excited

my wonder. It never seemed to occur to them that we could have any more need of vessels for our food than

cattle or swine. Never, during my whole prison life, did I see so much as a tin cup or a bucket issued to a

prisoner. Starving men were driven to all sorts of shifts for want of these. Pantaloons or coats were pulled off

and their sleeves or legs used to draw a mess's meal in. Boots were common vessels for carrying water, and

when the feet of these gave way the legs were ingeniously closed up with pine pegs, so as to form rude

leathern buckets. Men whose pocket knives had escaped the search at the gates made very ingenious little

After our meal was disposed of, we held a council on the situation. Though we had been sadly disappointed

in not being exchanged, it seemed that on the whole our condition had been bettered. This first ration was a

decided improvement on those of the Pemberton building; we had left the snow and ice behind at

Richmondor rather at some place between Raleigh, N. C., and Columbia, S. C.and the air here, though

chill, was not nipping, but bracing. It looked as if we would have a plenty of wood for shelter and fuel, it was

certainly better to have sixteen acres to roam over than the stiffing confines of a building; and, still better, it

seemed as if there would be plenty of opportunities to get beyond the stockade, and attempt a journey through

We settled down to make the best of things. A Rebel Sergeant came in presently and arranged us in hundreds.

We subdivided these into messes of twentyfive, and began devising means for shelter. Nothing showed the

inborn capacity of the Northern soldier to take care of himself better than the way in which we accomplished

this with the rude materials at our command. No ax, spade nor mattock was allowed us by the Rebels, who

treated us in regard to these the same as in respect to culinary vessels. The only tools were a few

pocketknives, and perhaps halfadozen hatchets which some infantrymenprincipally members of the

Third Michiganwere allowed to retain. Yet, despite all these drawbacks, we had quite a village of huts

erected in a few days,nearly enough, in fact, to afford tolerable shelter for the whole five hundred of us

The wither and poles that grew in the swamp were bent into the shape of the semicircular bows that support

the canvas covers of army wagons, and both ends thrust in the ground. These formed the timbers of our

dwellings. They were held in place by weaving in, basketwise, a network of briers and vines. Tufts of the

long leaves which are the distinguishing characteristic of the Georgia pine (popularly known as the

"longleaved pine") were wrought into this network until a thatch was formed, that was a fair protection

against the rainit was like the Irishman's unglazed windowsash, which "kep' out the coarsest uv the cold."

The results accomplished were as astonishing to us as to the Rebels, who would have lain unsheltered upon

the sand until bleached out like fieldrotted flax, before thinking to protect themselves in this way. As our

village was approaching completion, the Rebel Sergeant who called the roll entered. He was very

oddlooking. The cervical muscles were distorted in such a way as to suggest to us the name of

"Wrynecked Smith," by which we always designated him. Pete Bates, of the Third Michigan, who was the

wag of our squad, accounted for Smith's condition by saying that while on dress parade once the Colonel of

Smith's regiment had commanded "eyes right," and then forgot to give the order "front." Smith, being a good

soldier, had kept his eyes in the position of gazing at the buttons of the third man to the right, waiting for the

order to restore them to their natural direction, until they had become permanently fixed in their obliquity and

Smith walked in, made a diagonal survey of the encampment, which, if he had ever seen "Mitchell's

Geography," probably reminded him of the picture of a Kaffir village, in that instructive but awfully dull

book, and then expressed the opinion that usually welled up to every Rebel's lips:

Of course, we replied with the wellworn prison joke, that we supposed we did, as we beat the Rebels, who

There rode in among us, a few days after our arrival, an old man whose collar bore the wreathed stars of a

Major General. Heavy white locks fell from beneath his slouched hat, nearly to his shoulders. Sunken gray

eyes, too dull and cold to light up, marked a hard, stony face, the salient feature of which was a thinupped,

compressed mouth, with corners drawn down deeplythe mouth which seems the world over to be the index

of selfish, cruel, sulky malignance. It is such a mouth as has the schoolboythe coward of the play ground,

who delights in pulling off the wings of flies. It is such a mouth as we can imagine some remorseless

inquisitor to have hadthat is, not an inquisitor filled with holy zeal for what he mistakenly thought the

cause of Christ demanded, but a spleeny, envious, rancorous shaveling, who tortured men from hatred of their

The rider was John H. Winder, Commissary General of Prisoners, Baltimorean renegade and the malign

genius to whose account should be charged the deaths of more gallant men than all the inquisitors of the

world ever slew by the less dreadful rack and wheel. It was he who in August could point to the three

thousand and eightyone new made graves for that month, and exultingly tell his hearer that he was "doing

His lineage was in accordance with his character. His father was that General William H. Winder, whose

poltroonery at Bladensburg, in 1814, nullified the resistance of the gallant Commodore Barney, and gave

The father was a coward and an incompetent; the son, always cautiously distant from the scene of hostilities,

was the tormentor of those whom the fortunes of war, and the arms of brave men threw into his hands.

Winder gazed at us stonily for a few minutes without speaking, and, turning, rode out again.

The stockade was not quite finished at the time of our arrivala gap of several hundred feet appearing at the

southwest corner. A gang of about two hundred negros were at work felling trees, hewing legs, and placing

them upright in the trenches. We had an opportunitysoon to disappear foreverof studying the workings

of the "peculiar institution" in its very home. The negros were of the lowest fieldhand class, strong, dull,

oxlike, but each having in our eyes an admixture of cunning and secretiveness that their masters pretended

was not in them. Their demeanor toward us illustrated this. We were the objects of the most supreme interest

to them, but when near us and in the presence of a white Rebel, this interest took the shape of stupid,

openeyed, openmouthed wonder, something akin to the look on the face of the rustic lout, gazing for the

first time upon a locomotive or a steam threshing machine. But if chance threw one of them near us when he

thought himself unobserved by the Rebels, the blank, vacant face lighted up with an entirely different

expression. He was no longer the credulous yokel who believed the Yankees were only slightly modified

devils, ready at any instant to return to their original hornandtail condition and snatch him away to the

bluest kind of perdition; he knew, apparently quite as well as his master, that they were in some way his

friends and allies, and he lost no opportunity in communicating his appreciation of that fact, and of offering

his services in any possible way. And these offers were sincere. It is the testimony of every Union prisoner in

the South that he was never betrayed by or disappointed in a fieldnegro, but could always approach any one

of them with perfect confidence in his extending all the aid in his power, whether as a guide to escape, as

sentinel to signal danger, or a purveyor of food. These services were frequently attended with the greatest

personal risk, but they were none the less readily undertaken. This applies only to the fieldhands; the house

servants were treacherous and wholly unreliable. Very many of our men who managed to get away from the

prisons were recaptured through their betrayal by house servants, but none were retaken where a field hand

We were much interested in watching the negro work. They wove in a great deal of their peculiar, wild,

mournful music, whenever the character of the labor permitted. They seemed to sing the music for the

music's sake alone, and were as heedless of the fitness of the accompanying words, as the composer of a

modern opera is of his libretto. One middle aged man, with a powerful, mellow baritone, like the round, full

notes of a French horn, played by a virtuoso, was the musical leader of the party. He never seemed to bother

himself about air, notes or words, but improvised all as he went along, and he sang as the spirit moved him.

At this every darkey within hearing would roll out, in admirable consonance with the pitch, air and time

Then would ring out from the leader as from the throbbing lips of a silver trumpet

And so on for hours. They never seemed to weary of singing, and we certainly did not of listening to them.

The absolute independence of the conventionalities of tune and sentiment, gave them freedom to wander

through a kaleideoscopic variety of harmonic effects, as spontaneous and changeful as the song of a bird.

I sat one evening, long after the shadows of night had fallen upon the hillside, with one of my chumsa

Frank Berkstresser, of the Ninth Maryland Infantry, who before enlisting was a mathematical tutor in college

at Hancock, Maryland. As we listened to the unwearying flow of melody from the camp of the laborers, I

And the voice of his devotion Filled my soul with strong emotion; For its tones by turns were glad Sweetly

Paul and Silas, in their prison, Sang of Christ, the Lord arisen, And an earthquake's arm of might Broke their

But, alas, what holy angel Brings the slave this glad evangel And what earthquake's arm of might. Breaks his

He was a Democrat, of fearfully proslavery ideas, and he replied, sententiously:

The official designation of our prison was "Camp Sumpter," but this was scarcely known outside of the Rebel

documents, reports and orders. It was the same way with the prison five miles from Millen, to which we were

afterward transferred. The Rebels styled it officially "Camp Lawton," but we called it always "Millen."

Having our huts finished, the next solicitude was about escape, and this was the burden of our thoughts, day

and night. We held conferences, at which every man was required to contribute all the geographical

knowledge of that section of Georgia that he might have left over from his schoolboy days, and also that

gained by persistent questioning of such guards and other Rebels as he had come in contact with. When first

landed in the prison we were as ignorant of our whereabouts as if we had been dropped into the center of

Africa. But one of the prisoners was found to have a fragment of a school atlas, in which was an outline map

of Georgia, that had Macon, Atlanta, Milledgeville, and Savannah laid down upon it. As we knew we had

come southward from Macon, we felt pretty certain we were in the southwestern corner of the State.

Conversations with guards and others gave us the information that the Chattahooche flowed some two score

of miles to the westward, and that the Flint lay a little nearer on the east. Our map showed that these two

united and flowed together into Appalachicola Bay, where, some of us remembered, a newspaper item had

said that we had gunboats stationed. The creek that ran through the stockade flowed to the east, and we

reasoned that if we followed its course we would be led to the Flint, down which we could float on a log or

raft to the Appalachicola. This was the favorite scheme of the party with which I sided. Another party

believed the most feasible plan was to go northward, and endeavor to gain the mountains, and thence get into

But the main thing was to get away from the stockade; this, as the French say of all first steps, was what

Our first attempt was made about a week after our arrival. We found two logs on the east side that were a

couple of feet shorter than the rest, and it seemed as if they could be successfully scaled. About fifty of us

resolved to make the attempt. We made a rope twentyfive or thirty feet long, and strong enough to bear a

man, out of strings and strips of cloth. A stout stick was fastened to the end, so that it would catch on the logs

on either side of the gap. On a night dark enough to favor our scheme, we gathered together, drew cuts to

determine each boy's place in the line, fell in single rank, according to this arrangement, and marched to the

place. The line was thrown skillfully, the stick caught fairly in the notch, and the boy who had drawn number

one climbed up amid a suspense so keen that I could hear my heart beating. It seemed ages before he reached

the top, and that the noise he made must certainly attract the attention of the guard. It did not. We saw our

comrade's. figure outlined against the sky as he slid, over the top, and then heard the dull thump as he sprang

to the ground on the other side. "Number two," was whispered by our leader, and he performed the feat as

successfully as his predecessor. "Number, three," and he followed noiselessly and quickly. Thus it went on,

until, just as we heard number fifteen drop, we also heard a Rebel voice say in a vicious undertone:

This was enough. The game was up; we were discovered, and the remaining thirtyfive of us left that locality

with all the speed in our heels, getting away just in time to escape a volley which a squad of guards, posted in

The next morning the fifteen who had got over the Stockade were brought in, each chained to a sixtyfour

pound ball. Their story was that one of the N'Yaarkers, who had become cognizant of our scheme, had sought

to obtain favor in the Rebel eyes by betraying us. The Rebels stationed a squad at the crossing place, and as

each man dropped down from the Stockade he was caught by the shoulder, the muzzle of a revolver thrust

into his face, and an order to surrender whispered into his ear. It was expected that the guards in the

sentryboxes would do such execution among those of us still inside as would prove a warning to other

wouldbe escapes. They were defeated in this benevolent intention by the readiness with which we divined

the meaning of that incautiously loud halt, and our alacrity in leaving the unhealthy locality.

The traitorous N'Yaarker was rewarded with a detail into the commissary department, where he fed and

fattened like a rat that had secured undisturbed homestead rights in the center of a cheese. When the

miserable remnant of us were leaving Andersonville months afterward, I saw him, sleek, rotund, and

wellclothed, lounging leisurely in the door of a tent. He regarded us a moment contemptuously, and then

went on conversing with a fellow N'Yaarker, in the foul slang that none but such as he were low enough to

I have always imagined that the fellow returned home, at the close of the war, and became a prominent

We protested against the barbarity of compelling men to wear irons for exercising their natural right of

Another result of this abortive effort was the establishment of the notorious "Dead Line." A few days later a

gang of negros came in and drove a line of stakes down at a distance of twenty feet from the stockade. They

nailed upon this a strip of stuff four inches wide, and then an order was issued that if this was crossed, or

Our surveyor figured up this new contraction of our space, and came to the conclusion that the Dead Line and

the Swamp took up about three acres, and we were left now only thirteen acres. This was not of much

The first man was killed the morning after the DeadLine was put up. The victim vas a German, wearing the

white crescent of the Second Division of the Eleventh Corps, whom we had nicknamed "Sigel." Hardship and

exposure had crazed him, and brought on a severe attack of St. Vitus's dance. As he went hobbling around

with a vacuous grin upon his face, he spied an old piece of cloth lying on the ground inside the Dead Line. He

stooped down and reached under for it. At that instant the guard fired. The charge of ballandbuck entered

the poor old fellow's shoulder and tore through his body. He fell dead, still clutching the dirty rag that had

The emptying of the prisons at Danville and Richmond into Andersonville went on slowly during the month

of March. They came in by train loads of from five hundred to eight hundred, at intervals of two or three

days. By the end of the month there were about five thousand in the stockade. There was a fair amount of

space for this number, and as yet we suffered no inconvenience from our crowding, though most persons

would fancy that thirteen acres of ground was a rather limited area for five thousand men to live, move and

have their being a upon. Yet a few weeks later we were to see seven times that many packed into that space.

One morning a new Rebel officer came in to superintend calling the roll. He was an undersized, fidgety man,

with an insignificant face, and a mouth that protruded like a rabbit's. His bright little eyes, like those of a

squirrel or a rat, assisted in giving his countenance a look of kinship to the family of rodent animalsa genus

which lives by stealth and cunning, subsisting on that which it can steal away from stronger and braver

creatures. He was dressed in a pair of gray trousers, with the other part of his body covered with a calico

garment, like that which small boys used to wear, called "waists." This was fastened to the pantaloons by

buttons, precisely as was the custom with the garments of boys struggling with the orthography of words in

two syllables. Upon his head was perched a little gray cap. Sticking in his belt, and fastened to his wrist by a

strap two or three feet long, was one of those formidable looking, but harmless English revolvers, that have

ten barrels around the edge of the cylinder, and fire a musketbullet from the center. The wearer of this

composite costume, and bearer of this amateur arsenal, stepped nervously about and sputtered volubly in very

"Py Gott, you don't vatch dem dam Yankees glose enough! Dey are schlippin' rount, and peatin' you efery

This was Captain Henri Wirz, the new commandant of the interior of the prison. There has been a great deal

of misapprehension of the character of Wirz. He is usually regarded as a villain of large mental caliber, and

with a genius for cruelty. He was nothing of the kind. He was simply contemptible, from whatever point of

view he was studied. Gnat brained, cowardly, and feeble natured, he had not a quality that commanded

respect from any one who knew him. His cruelty did not seem designed so much as the ebullitions of a

peevish, snarling little temper, united to a mind incapable of conceiving the results of his acts, or

I never heard anything of his profession or vocation before entering the army. I always believed, however,

that he had been a cheap clerk in a small drygoods store, a third or fourth rate bookkeeper, or something

similar. Imagine, if you please, one such, who never had brains or self command sufficient to control

himself, placed in command of thirtyfive thousand men. Being a fool he could not help being an infliction to

them, even with the best of intentions, and Wirz was not troubled with good intentions.

I mention the probability of his having been a drygoods clerk or book keeper, not with any disrespect to

two honorable vocations, but because Wirz had had some training as an accountant, and this was what gave

him the place over us. Rebels, as a rule, are astonishingly ignorant of arithmetic and accounting, generally.

They are good shots, fine horsemen, ready speakers and ardent politicians, but, like all noncommercial

people, they flounder hopelessly in what people of this section would consider simple mathematical

processes. One of our constant amusements was in befogging and "beating" those charged with calling rolls

and issuing rations. It was not at all difficult at times to make a hundred men count as a hundred and ten, and

Wirz could count beyond one hundred, and this determined his selection for the place. His first move was a

stupid change. We had been grouped in the natural way into hundreds and thousands. He rearranged the

men in "squads" of ninety, and three of thesetwo hundred and seventy men into a "detachment." The

detachments were numbered in order from the North Gate, and the squads were numbered "one, two, three."

On the rolls this was stated after the man's name. For instance, a chum of mine, and in the same squad with

me, was Charles L. Soule, of the Third Michigan Infantry. His name appeared on the rolls:

Where Wirz got his, preposterous idea of organization from has always been a mystery to me. It was

Wirz was not long in giving us a taste of his quality. The next morning after his first appearance he came in

when rollcall was sounded, and ordered all the squads and detachments to form, and remain standing in

ranks until all were counted. Any soldier will say that there is no duty more annoying and difficult than

standing still in ranks for any considerable length of time, especially when there is nothing to do or to engage

the attention. It took Wirz between two and three hours to count the whole camp, and by that time we of the

first detachments were almost all out of ranks. Thereupon Wirz announced that no rations would be issued to

the camp that day." The orders to stand in ranks were repeated the next morning, with a warning that a failure

to obey would be punished as that of the previous day had been. Though we were so hungry, that, to use the

words of a ThirtyFifth Pennsylvanian standing next to mehis "big intestines were eating his little ones

up," it was impossible to keep the rank formation during the long hours. One man after another straggled

away, and again we lost our rations. That afternoon we became desperate. Plots were considered for a daring

assault to force the gates or scale the stockade. The men were crazy enough to attempt anything rather than sit

down and patiently starve. Many offered themselves as leaders in any attempt that it might be thought best to

make. The hopelessness of any such venture was apparent, even to famished men, and the propositions went

The third morning the orders were again repeated. This time we succeeded in remaining in ranks in such a

manner as to satisfy Wirz, and we were given our rations for that day, but those of the other days were

That afternoon Wirz ventured into camp alone. He vas assailed with a storm of curses and execrations, and a

shower of clubs. He pulled out his revolver, as if to fire upon his assailants. A yell was raised to take his

pistol away from him and a crowd rushed forward to do this. Without waiting to fire a shot, he turned and ran

to the gate for dear life. He did not come in again for a long while, and never afterward without a retinue of

One of the trainloads from Richmond was almost wholly made up of our old acquaintancesthe

N'Yaarkers. The number of these had swelled to four hundred or five hundredall leagued together in the

We did not manifest any keen desire for intimate social relations with them, and they did not seem to hunger

for our society, so they moved across the creek to the unoccupied South Side, and established their camp

One afternoon a number of us went across to their camp, to witness a fight according to the rules of the Prize

Ring, which was to come off between two professional pugilists. These were a couple of bounty jumpers

who had some little reputation in New York sporting circles, under the names of the "Staleybridge Chicken"

On the way from Richmond a castiron skillet, or spider, had been stolen by the crowd from the Rebels. It

was a small affair, holding a half gallon, and worth today about fifty cents. In Andersonville its worth was

literally above rubies. Two men belonging to different messes each claimed the ownership of the utensil, on

the ground of being most active in securing it. Their claims were strenuously supported by their respective

messes, at the heads of which were the aforesaid Infant and Chicken. A great deal of strong talk, and several

indecisive knockdowns resulted in an agreement to settle the matter by wager of battle between the Infant

When we arrived a twentyfour foot ring had been prepared by drawing a deep mark in the sand. In

diagonally opposite corners of these the seconds were kneeling on one knee and supporting their principals

on the other by their sides they had little vessels of water, and bundles of rags to answer for sponges. Another

corner was occupied by the umpire, a foulmouthed, loudtongued Tombs shyster, named Pete Bradley. A

long bodied, shortlegged hoodlum, nicknamed "Heenan," armed with a club, acted as ring keeper, and

"belted" back, remorselessly, any of the spectators who crowded over the line. Did he see a foot obtruding

itself so much as an inch over the mark in the sandand the pressure from the crowd behind was so great

that it was difficult for the front fellows to keep off the linehis heavy club and a blasting curse would fall

Every effort was made to have all things conform as nearly as possible to the recognized practices of the

At Bradley's call of "Time!" the principals would rise from their seconds' knees, advance briskly to the

scratch across the center of the ring, and spar away sharply for a little time, until one got in a blow that sent

the other to the ground, where he would lie until his second picked him up, carried him back, washed his face

This sort of performance went on for an hour or more, with the knockdowns and other casualities pretty

evenly divided between the two. Then it became apparent that the Infant was getting more than he had

storage room for. His interest in the skillet was evidently abating, the leering grin he wore upon his face

during the early part of the engagement had disappeared long ago, as the successive "hot ones" which the

Chicken had succeeded in planting upon his mouth, put it out of his power to "smile and smile," "e'en though

he might still be a villain." He began coming up to the scratch as sluggishly as a hired man starting out for his

day's work, and finally he did not come up at all. A bunch of blood soaked rags was tossed into the air from

his corner, and Bradley declared the Chicken to be the victor, amid enthusiastic cheers from the crowd.

We voted the thing rather tame. In the whole hour and ahalf there was not so much savage fighting, not so

much damage done, as a couple of earnest, but unscientific men, who have no time to waste, will frequently

Our next visit to the N'Yaarkers was on a different errand. The moment they arrived in camp we began to be

annoyed by their depredations. Blanketsthe sole protection of menwould be snatched off as they slept at

night. Articles of clothing and cooking utensils would go the same way, and occasionally a man would be

robbed in open daylight. All these, it was believed, with good reason, were the work of the N'Yaarkers, and

the stolen things were conveyed to their camp. Occasionally depredators would be caught and beaten, but

they would give a signal which would bring to their assistance the whole body of N'Yaarkers, and turn the

We had in our squad a little watchmaker named Dan Martin, of the Eighth New York Infantry. Other boys let

him take their watches to tinker up, so as to make a show of running, and be available for trading to the

One day Martin was at the creek, when a N'Yaarker asked him to let him look at a watch. Martin incautiously

did so, when the N'Yaarker snatched it and sped away to the camp of his crowd. Martin ran back to us and

told his story. This was the last feather which was to break the camel's back of our patience. Peter Bates, of

the Third Michigan, the Sergeant of our squad, had considerable confidence in his muscular ability. He

flamed up into mighty wrath, and swore a sulphurous oath that we would get that watch back, whereupon

Each of us providing ourselves with a club, we started on our errand. The rest of the campabout four

thousandgathered on the hillside to watch us. We thought they might have sent us some assistance, as it

was about as much their fight as ours, but they did not, and we were too proud to ask it. The crossing of the

swamp was quite difficult. Only one could go over at a time, and he very slowly. The N'Yaarkers understood

that trouble was pending, and they began mustering to receive us. From the way they turned out it was

evident that we should have come over with three hundred instead of two hundred, but it was too late then to

alter the program. As we came up a stalwart Irishman stepped out and asked us what we wanted.

Bates replied: "We have come over to get a watch that one of your fellows took from one of ours, and by

The Irishman's reply was equally explicit though not strictly logical in construction. Said he: "We havn't got

This joined the issue just as fairly as if it had been done by all the documentary formula that passed between

Turkey and Russia prior to the late war. Bates and the Irishman then exchanged very derogatory opinions of

each other, and began striking with their clubs. The rest of us took this as our cue, and each, selecting as

There is a very expressive bit of slang coming into general use in the West, which speaks of a man "biting off

That is what we had done. We had taken a contract that we should have divided, and sublet the bigger half.

Two minutes after the engagement became general there was no doubt that we would have been much better

off if we had staid on our own side of the creek. The watch was a very poor one, anyhow. We thought we

would just say good day to our N'Yaark friends, and return home hastily. But they declined to be left so

precipitately. They wanted to stay with us awhile. It was lots of fun for them, and for the, four thousand

yelling spectators on the opposite hill, who were greatly enjoying our discomfiture. There was hardly enough

of the amusement to go clear around, however, and it all fell short just before it reached us. We earnestly

wished that some of the boys would come over and help us let go of the N'Yaarkers, but they were enjoying

We were driven down the hill, pellmell, with the N'Yaarkers pursuing hotly with yell and blow. At the

swamp we tried to make a stand to secure our passage across, but it was only partially successful. Very few

got back without some severe hurts, and many received blows that greatly hastened their deaths.

After this the N'Yaarkers became bolder in their robberies, and more arrogant in their demeanor than ever,

and we had the poor revenge upon those who would not assist us, of seeing a reign of terror inaugurated over

The rations diminished perceptibly day by day. When we first entered we each received something over a

quart of tolerably good meal, a sweet potato, a piece of meat about the size of one's two fingers, and

occasionally a spoonful of salt. First the salt disappeared. Then the sweet potato took unto itself wings and

flew away, never to return. An attempt was ostensibly made to issue us cowpeas instead, and the first issue

was only a quart to a detachment of two hundred and seventy men. This has twothirds of a pint to each

squad of ninety, and made but a few spoonfuls for each of the four messes in the squad. When it came to

dividing among the men, the beans had to be counted. Nobody received enough to pay for cooking, and we

were at a loss what to do until somebody suggested that we play poker for them. This met general acceptance,

and after that, as long as beans were drawn, a large portion of the day was spent in absorbing games of "bluff

After a number of hours' diligent playing, some lucky or skillful player would be in possession of all the

beans in a mess, a squad, and sometimes a detachment, and have enough for a good meal.

Next the meal began to diminish in quantity and deteriorate in quality. It became so exceedingly coarse that

the common remark was that the next step would be to bring us the corn in the shock, and feed it to us like

stock. Then meat followed suit with the rest. The rations decreased in size, and the number of days that we

did not get any, kept constantly increasing in proportion to the days that we did, until eventually the meat

bade us a final adieu, and joined the sweet potato in that undiscovered country from whose bourne no ration

The fuel and building material in the stockade were speedily exhausted. The later comers had nothing

But, after the Spring rains had fairly set in, it seemed that we had not tasted misery until then. About the

middle of March the windows of heaven opened, and it began a rain like that of the time of Noah. It was

tropical in quantity and persistency, and arctic in temperature. For dreary hours that lengthened into weary

days and nights, and these again into neverending weeks, the driving, drenching flood poured down upon

the sodden earth, searching the very marrow of the five thousand hapless men against whose chilled frames it

beat with pitiless monotony, and soaked the sand bank upon which we lay until it was like a sponge filled

with icewater. It seems to me now that it must have been two or three weeks that the sun was wholly hidden

behind the dripping clouds, not shining out once in all that time. The intervals when it did not rain were rare

and short. An hour's respite would be followed by a day of steady, regular pelting of the great rain drops.

I find that the report of the Smithsonian Institute gives the average annual rainfall in the section around

Andersonville, at fiftysix inches nearly five feetwhile that of foggy England is only thirtytwo. Our

We first comers, who had huts, were measurably better off than the later arrivals. It was much drier in our

leafthatched tents, and we were spared much of the annoyance that comes from the steady dash of rain

They sat or lay on the hillside the livelong day and night, and took the washing flow with such gloomy

All soldiers will agree with me that there is no campaigning hardship comparable to a cold rain. One can

brace up against the extremes of heat and cold, and mitigate their inclemency in various ways. But there is no

escaping a longcontinued, chilling rain. It seems to penetrate to the heart, and leach away the very vital

The only relief attainable was found in huddling over little fires kept alive by small groups with their slender

stocks of wood. As this wood was all pitchpine, that burned with a very sooty flame, the effect upon the

appearance of the hoverers was, startling. Face, neck and hands became covered with mixture of lampblack

and turpentine, forming a coating as thick as heavy brown paper, and absolutely irremovable by water alone.

The hair also became of midnight blackness, and gummed up into elflocks of fantastic shape and effect. Any

one of us could have gone on the negro minstrel stage, without changing a hair, and put to blush the most

No wood was issued to us. The only way of getting it was to stand around the gate for hours until a guard off

duty could be coaxed or hired to accompany a small party to the woods, to bring back a load of such knots

and limbs as could be picked up. Our chief persuaders to the guards to do us this favor were rings, pencils,

knives, combs, and such trifles as we might have in our pockets, and, more especially, the brass buttons on

our uniforms. Rebel soldiers, like Indians, negros and other imperfectly civilized people, were passionately

fond of bright and gaudy things. A handful of brass buttons would catch every one of them as swiftly and as

surely as a piece of red flannel will a gudgeon. Our regular fee for an escort for three of us to the woods was

six overcoat or dresscoat buttons, or ten or twelve jacket buttons. All in the mess contributed to this fund,

This manner of conducting the wood business is a fair sample of the management, or rather the lack of it, of

every other detail of prison administration. All the hardships we suffered from lack of fuel and shelter could

have been prevented without the slightest expense or trouble to the Confederacy. Two hundred men allowed

to go out on parole, and supplied with ages, would have brought in from the adjacent woods, in a week's time,

enough material to make everybody comfortable tents, and to supply all the fuel needed.

The mortality caused by the storm was, of course, very great. The official report says the total number in the

prison in March was four thousand six hundred and three, of whom two hundred and eightythree died.

Among the first to die was the one whom we expected to live longest. He was by much the largest man in

prison, and was called, because of this, "BIG JOE." He was a Sergeant in the Fifth Pennsylvania Cavalry, and

seemed the picture of health. One morning the news ran through the prison that "Big Joe is dead," and a visit

to his squad showed his stiff, lifeless form, occupying as much ground as Goliath's, after his encounter with

His early demise was an example of a general law, the workings of which few in the army failed to notice. It

was always the large and strong who first succumbed to hardship. The stalwart, hugelimbed, toilinured

men sank down earliest on the march, yielded soonest to malarial influences, and fell first under the

combined effects of homesickness, exposure and the privations of army life. The slender, withy boys, as

supple and weak as cats, had apparently the nine lives of those animals. There were few exceptions to this

rule in the armythere were none in Andersonville. I can recall few or no instances where a large, strong,

"hearty" man lived through a few months of imprisonment. The survivors were invariably youths, at the

verge of manhood,slender, quick, active, mediumstatured fellows, of a cheerful temperament, in whom

The theory which I constructed for my own private use in accounting for this phenomenon I offer with proper

diffidence to others who may be in search of a hypothesis to explain facts that they have observed. It is this:

a. The circulation of the blood maintains health, and consequently life by carrying away from the various

parts of the body the particles of wornout and poisonous tissue, and replacing them with fresh, structure

b. The man is healthiest in whom this process goes on most freely and continuously.

c. Men of considerable muscular power are disposed to be sluggish; the exertion of great strength does not

favor circulation. It rather retards it, and disturbs its equilibrium by congesting the blood in quantities in the

d. In light, active men, on the other hand, the circulation goes on perfectly and evenly, because all the parts

are put in motion, and kept so in such a manner as to promote the movement of the blood to every extremity.

They do not strain one set of muscles by long continued effort, as a strong man does, but call one into play

There is no compulsion on the reader to accept this speculation at any valuation whatever. There is not even

from the athlete in the circus who lifts pieces of artillery and catches cannon balls, to the exhibition swell in a

country gymnasium. If my theory is not a sufficient explanation of this, there is nothing to prevent the reader

There were two regiments guarding usthe TwentySixth Alabama and the FiftyFifth Georgia. Never

were two regiments of the same army more different. The Alabamians were the superiors of the Georgians in

every way that one set of men could be superior to another. They were manly, soldierly, and honorable,

where the Georgians were treacherous and brutal. We had nothing to complain of at the hands of the

Alabamians; we suffered from the Georgians everything that meanspirited cruelty could devise. The

Georgians were always on the lookout for something that they could torture into such apparent violation of

orders, as would justify them in shooting men down; the Alabamians never fired until they were satisfied that

a deliberate offense was intended. I can recall of my own seeing at least a dozen instances where men of the

FiftyFifth Georgia Killed prisoners under the pretense that they were across the Dead Line, when the

victims were a yard or more from the Dead Line, and had not the remotest idea of going any nearer.

The only man I ever knew to be killed by one of the TwentySixth Alabama was named Hubbard, from

Chicago, Ills., and a member of the ThirtyEighth Illinois. He had lost one leg, and went hobbling about the

camp on crutches, chattering continually in a loud, discordant voice, saying all manner of hateful and

annoying things, wherever he saw an opportunity. This and his beaklike nose gained for him the name of

"Poll Parrot." His misfortune caused him to be tolerated where another man would have been suppressed.

Byandby he gave still greater cause for offense by his obsequious attempts to curry favor with Captain

Wirz, who took him outside several times for purposes that were not well explained. Finally, some hours after

one of Poll Parrot's visits outside, a Rebel officer came in with a guard, and, proceeding with suspicious

directness to a tent which was the mouth of a large tunnel that a hundred men or more had been quietly

pushing forward, broke the tunnel in, and took the occupants of the tent outside for punishment. The question

Suspicion pointed very strongly to "Poll Parrot." By the next morning the evidence collected seemed to

amount to a certainty, and a crowd caught the Parrot with the intention of lynching him. He succeeded in

breaking away from them and ran under the Dead Line, near where I was sitting in, my tent. At first it looked

as if he had done this to secure the protection of the guard. The lattera TwentySixth Alabamian

ordered him out. Poll Parrot rose up on his one leg, put his back against the Dead Line, faced the guard, and

Part of the crowd were taken back by this move, and felt disposed to accept it as a demonstration of the

Parrot's innocence. The rest thought it was a piece of bravado, because of his belief that the Rebels would not

injure, him after he had served them. They renewed their yells, the guard again ordered the Parrot out, but the

There was no help for it. The Rebel leveled his gun and fired. The charge struck the Parrot's lower jaw, and

carried it completely away, leaving his tongue and the roof of his mouth exposed. As he was carried back to

die, he wagged his tongue rigorously, in attempting to speak, but it was of no use.

The guard set his gun down and buried his face in his hands. It was the only time that I saw a sentinel show

A ludicrous contrast to this took place a few nights later. The rains had ceased, the weather had become

warmer, and our spirits rising with this increase in the comfort of our surroundings, a number of us were

sitting around "Nosey"a boy with a superb tenor voicewho was singing patriotic songs. We were

coming in strong on the chorus, in a way that spoke vastly more for our enthusiasm for the Union than our

musical knowledge. "Nosey" sang the "Star Spangled Banner," "The Battle Cry of Freedom," "Brave Boys

are They," etc., capitally, and we threw our whole lungs into the chorus. It was quite dark, and while our

noise was going on the guards changed, new men coming on duty. Suddenly, bang! went the gun of the guard

in the box about fifty feet away from us. We knew it was a FiftyFifth Georgian, and supposed that, irritated

at our singing, he was trying to kill some of us for spite. At the sound of the gun we jumped up and scattered.

As no one gave the usual agonized yell of a prisoner when shot, we supposed the ball had not taken effect.

We could hear the sentinel ramming down another cartridge, hear him "return rammer," and cock his rifle.

Again the gun cracked, and again there was no sound of anybody being hit. Again we could hear the sentry

churning down another cartridge. The drums began beating the long roll in the camps, and officers could be

heard turning the men out. The thing was becoming exciting, and one of us sang out to the guard:

"I'm a shootin' at that Yank thar by the Dead Line, and by if you'uns don't take him in I'll

"Why, you Rebel fool, that's a chunk of wood. You can't get any furlough for shooting that!"

At this there was a general roar from the rest of the camp, which the other guards took up, and as the

Reserves came doublequicking up, and learned the occasion of the alarm, they gave the rascal who had been

A part of our crowd had been out after wood during the day, and secured a piece of a log as large as two of

them could carry, and bringing it in, stood it up near the Dead Line. When the guard mounted to his post he

It was an unusual good fortune that nobody was struck. It was very rare that the guards fired into the prison

without hitting at least one person. The Georgia Reserves, who formed our guards later in the season, were

armed with an old gun called a Queen Anne musket, altered to percussion. It carried a bullet as big as a large

marble, and three or four buckshot. When fired into a group of men it was sure to bring several down.

I was standing one day in the line at the gate, waiting for a chance to go out after wood. A FiftyFifth

Georgian was the gate guard, and he drew a line in the sand with his bayonet which we should not cross. The

crowd behind pushed one man till he put his foot a few inches over the line, to save himself from falling; the

So far only old prisonersthose taken at Gettysburg, Chicamauga and Mine Runhad been brought in. The

armies had been very quiet during the Winter, preparing for the death grapple in the Spring. There had been

nothing done, save a few cavalry raids, such as our own, and Averill's attempt to gain and break up the Rebel

salt works at Wytheville, and Saltville. Consequently none but a few cavalry prisoners were added to the

The first lot of new ones came in about the middle of March. There were about seven hundred of them, who

had been captured at the battle of Oolustee, Fla., on the 20th of February. About five hundred of them were

white, and belonged to the Seventh Connecticut, the Seventh New Hampshire, Forty Seventh, FortyEighth

and One Hundred and Fifteenth New York, and Sherman's regular battery. The rest were colored, and

belonged to the Eighth United States, and FiftyFourth Massachusetts. The story they told of the battle was

one which had many shameful reiterations during the war. It was the story told whenever Banks, Sturgis,

Butler, or one of a host of similar smaller failures were trusted with commands. It was a senseless waste of

the lives of private soldiers, and the property of the United States by pretentious blunderers, who, in some

inscrutable manner, had attained to responsible commands. In this instance, a bungling Brigadier named

Seymore had marched his forces across the State of Florida, to do he hardly knew what, and in the

neighborhood of an enemy of whose numbers, disposition, location, and intentions he was profoundly

ignorant. The Rebels, under General Finnegan, waited till he had strung his command along through swamps

and cane brakes, scores of miles from his supports, and then fell unexpectedly upon his advance. The

regiment was overpowered, and another regiment that hurried up to its support, suffered the same fate. The

balance of the regiments were sent in in the same mannereach arriving on the field just after its

predecessor had been thoroughly whipped by the concentrated force of the Rebels. The men fought gallantly,

but the stupidity of a Commanding General is a thing that the gods themselves strive against in vain. We

suffered a humiliating defeat, with a loss of two thousand men and a fine rifled battery, which was brought to

The majority of the Seventh New Hampshire were an unwelcome addition to our numbers. They were

N'Yaarkersold time colleagues of those already in with usveteran bounty jumpers, that had been drawn

to New Hampshire by the size of the bounty offered there, and had been assigned to fill up the wasted ranks

of the veteran Seventh regiment. They had tried to desert as soon as they received their bounty, but the

Government clung to them literally with hooks of steel, sending many of them to the regiment in irons. Thus

foiled, they deserted to the Rebels during the retreat from the battlefield. They were quite an accession to the

force of our N'Yaarkers, and helped much to establish the hoodlum reign which was shortly inaugurated over

The FortyEighth New Yorkers who came in were a set of chaps so odd in every way as to be a source of

neverfailing interest. The name of their regiment was 'L'Enfants Perdu' (the Lost Children), which we

anglicized into "The Lost Ducks." It was believed that every nation in Europe was represented in their ranks,

and it used to be said jocularly, that no two of them spoke the same language. As near as I could find out they

were all or nearly all South Europeans, Italians, Spaniards; Portuguese, Levantines, with a predominance of

the French element. They wore a little cap with an upturned brim, and a strap resting on the chin, a coat with

funny little tales about two inches long, and a brass chain across the breast; and for pantaloons they had a sort

of a petticoat reaching to the knees, and sewed together down the middle. They were just as singular

otherwise as in their looks, speech and uniform. On one occasion the whole mob of us went over in a mass to

their squad to see them cook and eat a large water snake, which two of them had succeeded in capturing in

the swamps, and carried off to their mess, jabbering in high glee over their treasure trove. Any of us were

ready to eat a piece of dog, cat, horse or mule, if we could get it, but, it was generally agreed, as Dawson, of

my company expressed it, that "Nobody but one of them darned queer Lost Ducks would eat a varmint like a

Major Albert Bogle, of the Eighth United States, (colored) had fallen into the hands of the rebels by reason of

a severe wound in the leg, which left him helpless upon the field at Oolustee. The Rebels treated him with

studied indignity. They utterly refused to recognize him as an officer, or even as a man. Instead of being sent

to Macon or Columbia, where the other officers were, he was sent to Andersonville, the same as an enlisted

man. No care was given his wound, no surgeon would examine it or dress it. He was thrown into a stock car,

without a bed or blanket, and hauled over the rough, jolting road to Andersonville. Once a Rebel officer rode

up and fired several shots at him, as he lay helpless on the car floor. Fortunately the Rebel's marksmanship

was as bad as his intentions, and none of the shots took effect. He was placed in a squad near me, and

compelled to get up and hobble into line when the rest were mustered for rollcall. No opportunity to insult,

"the nigger officer," was neglected, and the N'Yaarkers vied with the Rebels in heaping abuse upon him. He

was a fine, intelligent young man, and bore it all with dignified selfpossession, until after a lapse of some

weeks the Rebels changed their policy and took him from the prison to send to where the other officers were.

The negro soldiers were also treated as badly as possible. The wounded were turned into the Stockade

without having their hurts attended to. One stalwart, soldierly Sergeant had received a bullet which had

forced its way under the scalp for some distance, and partially imbedded itself in the skull, where it still

remained. He suffered intense agony, and would pass the whole night walking up and down the street in front

of our tent, moaning distressingly. The, bullet could be felt plainly with the fingers, and we were sure that it

would not be a minute's work, with a sharp knife, to remove it and give the man relief. But we could not

prevail upon the Rebel Surgeons even to see the man. Finally inflammation set in and he died.

The negros were made into a squad by themselves, and taken out every day to work around the prison. A

white Sergeant was placed over them, who was the object of the contumely of the guards and other Rebels.

One day as he was standing near the gate, waiting his orders to come out, the gate guard, without any

provocation whatever, dropped his gun until the muzzle rested against the Sergeant's stomach, and fired,

The Sergeantcy was then offered to me, but as I had no accident policy, I was constrained to decline the

April brought sunny skies and balmy weather. Existence became much more tolerable. With freedom it

would have been enjoyable, even had we been no better fed, clothed and sheltered. But imprisonment had

never seemed so hard to beareven in the first few weeksas now. It was easier to submit to confinement

to a limited area, when cold and rain were aiding hunger to benumb the faculties and chill the energies than it

was now, when Nature was rousing her slumbering forces to activity, and earth, and air and sky were filled

with stimulus to man to imitate her example. The yearning to be up and doing somethingto turn these

golden hours to good account for self and countrypressed into heart and brain as the vivifying sap pressed

To be compelled, at such a time, to lie around in vacuous idleness to spend days that should be crowded

full of action in a monotonous, objectless routine of hunting lice, gathering at rollcall, and drawing and

But to many of our number the aspirations for freedom were not, as with us, the desire for a wider, manlier

field of action, so much as an intense longing to get where care and comforts would arrest their swift progress

to the shadowy hereafter. The cruel rains had sapped away their stamina, and they could not recover it with

the meager and innutritious diet of coarse meal, and an occasional scrap of salt meat. Quick consumption,

bronchitis, pneumonia, low fever and diarrhea seized upon these ready victims for their ravages, and bore

It now became a part of, the day's regular routine to take a walk past the gates in the morning, inspect and

count the dead, and see if any friends were among them. Clothes having by this time become a very important

consideration with the prisoners, it was the custom of the mess in which a man died to remove from his

person all garments that were of any account, and so many bodies were carried out nearly naked. The hands

were crossed upon the breast, the big toes tied together with a bit of string, and a slip of paper containing the

The appearance of the dead was indescribably ghastly. The unclosed eyes shone with a stony glitter

An orphan's curse would drag to hell A spirit from on high: But, O, more terrible than that, Is the curse in a

The lips and nostrils were distorted with pain and hunger, the sallow, dirtgrimed skin drawn tensely over the

facial bones, and the whole framed with the long, lank, matted hair and beard. Millions of lice swarmed over

the wasted limbs and ridged ribs. These verminous pests had become so numerousowing to our lack of

changes of clothing, and of facilities for boiling what we hadthat the most a healthy man could do was to

keep the number feeding upon his person down to a reasonable limitsay a few tablespoonfuls. When a man

became so sick as to be unable to help himself, the parasites speedily increased into millions, or, to speak

more comprehensively, into pints and quarts. It did not even seem exaggeration when some one declared that

There is no doubt that the irritation from the biting of these myriads materially the days of those who died.

Where a sick man had friends or comrades, of course part of their duty, in taking care of him, was to "louse"

his clothing. One of the most effectual ways of doing this was to turn the garments wrong side out and hold

the seams as close to the fire as possible, without burning the cloth. In a short time the lice would swell up

and burst open, like pop corn. This method was a favorite one for another reason than its efficacy: it gave

one a keener sense of revenge upon his rascally little tormentors than he could get in any other way.

As the weather grew warmer and the number in the prison increased, the lice became more unendurable.

They even filled the hot sand under our feet, and voracious troops would climb up on one like streams of ants

swarming up a tree. We began to have a full comprehension of the third plague with which the Lord visited

And the Lord said unto Moses, Say unto Aaron, Stretch out thy rod, and smite the dust of the land, that it may

And they did so; for Aaron stretched out his hand with his rod, and smote the dust of the earth, and it became

lice in man and in beast; all the dust of the land became lice throughout all the land of Egypt.

The total number of deaths in April, according to the official report, was five hundred and seventysix, or an

average of over nineteen a day. There was an average of five thousand prisoner's in the pen during all but the

last few days of the month, when the number was increased by the arrival of the captured garrison of

Plymouth. This would make the loss over eleven per cent., and so worse than decimation. At that rate we

should all have died in about eight months. We could have gone through a sharp campaign lasting those thirty

days and not lost so great a proportion of our forces. The British had about as many men as were in the

Stockade at the battle of New Orleans, yet their loss in killed fell much short of the deaths in the pen in April.

A makeshift of a hospital was established in the northeastern corner of the Stockade. A portion of the ground

was divided from the rest of the prison by a railing, a few tent flies were stretched, and in these the long

leaves of the pine were made into apologies for beds of about the goodness of the straw on which a Northern

farmer beds his stock. The sick taken there were no better off than if they had staid with their comrades.

What they needed to bring about their recovery was clean clothing, nutritious food, shelter and freedom from

the tortures of the lice. They obtained none of these. Save a few decoctions of roots, there were no medicines;

the sick were fed the same coarse corn meal that brought about the malignant dysentery from which they all

suffered; they wore and slept in the same vermininfested clothes, and there could be but one result: the

official records show that seventysix per cent. of those taken to the hospitals died there.

The establishment of the hospital was specially unfortunate for my little squad. The ground required for it

compelled a general reduction of the space we all occupied. We had to tear down our huts and move. By this

time the materials had become so dry that we could not rebuild with them, as the pine tufts fell to pieces. This

reduced the tent and bedding material of our partynow numbering fiveto a cavalry overcoat and a

blanket. We scooped a hole a foot deep in the sand and stuck our tent poles around it. By day we spread our

blanket over the poles for a tent. At night we lay down upon the overcoat and covered ourselves with the

blanket. It required considerable stretching to make it go over five; the two out side fellows used to get very

chilly, and squeeze the three inside ones until they felt no thicker than a wafer. But it had to do, and we took

turns sleeping on the outside. In the course of a few weeks three of my chums died and left myself and B. B.

Andrews (now Dr. Andrews, of Astoria, Ill.) sole heirs to and occupants of, the overcoat and blanket.

We awoke one morning, in the last part of April, to find about two thousand freshly arrived prisoners lying

asleep in the main streets running from the gates. They were attired in stylish new uniforms, with fancy hats

and shoes; the Sergeants and Corporals wore patent leather or silk chevrons, and each man had a large,

wellfilled knapsack, of the kind new recruits usually carried on coming first to the front, and which the older

soldiers spoke of humorously as "bureaus." They were the snuggest, nattiest lot of soldiers we had ever seen,

outside of the "paper collar" fellows forming the headquarter guard of some General in a large City. As one

"Hulloa! I'm blanked if the Johnnies haven't caught a regiment of Brigadier Generals, somewhere."

Byandby the "fresh fish," as all new arrivals were termed, began to wake up, and then we learned that they

belonged to a brigade consisting of the EightyFifth New York, One Hundred and First and One Hundred

and Third Pennsylvania, Sixteenth Connecticut, TwentyFourth New York Battery, two companies of

They had been garrisoning Plymouth, N. C., an important seaport on the Roanoke River. Three small

gunboats assisted them in their duty. The Rebels constructed a powerful iron clad called the "Albemarle," at a

point further up the Roanoke, and on the afternoon of the 17th, with her and three brigades of infantry, made

an attack upon the post. The "Albemarle" ran past the forts unharmed, sank one of the gunboats, and drove

the others away. She then turned her attention to the garrison, which she took in the rear, while the infantry

attacked in front. Our men held out until the 20th, when they capitulated. They were allowed to retain their

personal effects, of all kinds, and, as is the case with all men in garrison, these were considerable.

The One Hundred and First and One Hundred and Third Pennsylvania and EightyFifth New York had just

"veteranized," and received their first instalment of veteran bounty. Had they not been attacked they would

have sailed for home in a day or two, on their veteran furlough, and this accounted for their fine raiment.

They were made up of boys from good New York and Pennsylvania families, and were, as a rule, intelligent

Their horror at the appearance of their place of incarceration was beyond expression. At one moment they

could not comprehend that we dirty and haggard tatterdemalions had once been clean, selfrespecting,

wellfed soldiers like themselves; at the next they would affirm that they knew they could not stand it a

month, in here we had then endured it from four to nine months. They took it, in every way, the hardest of

any prisoners that came in, except some of the 'HundredDays' men, who were brought in in August, from

the Valley of Virginia. They had served nearly all their time in various garrisons along the seacoastfrom

Fortress Monroe to Beaufortwhere they had had comparatively little of the actual hardships of soldiering

in the field. They had nearly always had comfortable quarters, an abundance of food, few hard marches or

other severe service. Consequently they were not so well hardened for Andersonville as the majority who

came in. In other respects they were better prepared, as they had an abundance of clothing, blankets and

cooking utensils, and each man had some of his veteran bounty still in possession.

It was painful to see how rapidly many of them sank under the miseries of the situation. They gave up the

moment the gates were closed upon them, and began pining away. We older prisoners buoyed ourselves up

continually with hopes of escape or exchange. We dug tunnels with the persistence of beavers, and we

watched every possible opportunity to get outside the accursed walls of the pen. But we could not enlist the

interest of these discouraged ones in any of our schemes, or talk. They resigned themselves to Death, and

A middleaged One Hundred and First Pennsylvanian, who had taken up his quarters near me, was an object

of peculiar interest. Reasonably intelligent and fairly read, I presume that he was a respectable mechanic

before entering the Army. He was evidently a very domestic man, whose whole happiness centered in his

When he first came in he was thoroughly dazed by the greatness of his misfortune. He would sit for hours

with his face in his hands and his elbows on his knees, gazing out upon the mass of men and huts, with

vacant, lackluster eyes. We could not interest him in anything. We tried to show him how to fix his blanket

up to give him some shelter, but he went at the work in a disheartened way, and finally smiled feebly and

stopped. He had some letters from his family and a melaineotype of a plainfaced womanhis wifeand

her children, and spent much time in looking at them. At first he ate his rations when he drew them, but

finally began to reject, them. In a few days he was delirious with hunger and homesick ness. He would sit on

the sand for hours imagining that be was at his family table, dispensing his frugal hospitalities to his wife and

"Maggie, have some more potatos," and so on, through a whole family of six, or more. It was a relief to us

As stated above, the Plymouth men brought in a large amount of money variously estimated at from ten

thousand to one hundred thousand dollars. The presence of this quantity of circulating medium immediately

started a lively commerce. All sorts of devices were resorted to by the other prisoners to get a little of this

wealth. Rude chuckaluck boards were constructed out of such material as was attainable, and put in

operation. Dice and cards were brought out by those skilled in such matters. As those of us already in the

Stockade occupied all the ground, there was no disposition on the part of many to surrender a portion of their

space without exacting a pecuniary compensation. Messes having ground in a good location would frequently

demand and get ten dollars for permission for two or three to quarter with them. Then there was a great

demand for poles to stretch blankets over to make tents; the Rebels, with their usual stupid cruelty, would not

supply these, nor allow the prisoners to go out and get them themselves. Many of the older prisoners had

poles to spare which they were saying up for fuel. They sold these to the Plymouth folks at the rate of ten

The most considerable trading was done through the gates. The Rebel guards were found quite as keen to

barter as they had been in Richmond. Though the laws against their dealing in the money of the enemy were

still as stringent as ever, their thirst for greenbacks was not abated one whit, and they were ready to sell

anything they had for the coveted currency. The rate of exchange was seven or eight dollars in Confederate

money for one dollar in greenbacks. Wood, tobacco, meat, flour, beans, molasses, onions and a villainous

kind of whisky made from sorghum, were the staple articles of trade. A whole race of little traffickers in these

articles sprang up, and finally Selden, the Rebel Quartermaster, established a sutler shop in the center of the

North Side, which he put in charge of Ira Beverly, of the One Hundredth Ohio, and Charlie Huckleby, of the

Eighth Tennessee. It was a fine illustration of the development of the commercial instinct in some men. No

more unlikely place for making money could be imagined, yet starting in without a cent, they contrived to

turn and twist and trade, until they had transferred to their pockets a portion of the funds which were in some

one else's. The Rebels, of course, got nine out of every ten dollars there was in the prison, but these middle

It was only the very few who were able to do this. Nine hundred and ninetynine out of every thousand were,

like myself, either wholly destitute of money and unable to get it from anybody else, or they paid out what

The N'Yaarkers had still another method for getting food, money, blankets and clothing. They formed little

bands called "Raiders," under the leadership of a chief villain. One of these bands would select as their victim

a man who had good blankets, clothes, a watch, or greenbacks. Frequently he would be one of the little

traders, with a sack of beans, a piece of meat, or something of that kind. Pouncing upon him at night they

would snatch away his possessions, knock down his friends who came to his assistance, and scurry away into

To our minds the world now contained but two grand divisions, as widely different from each other as

happiness and misery. The firstthat portion over which our flag floated was usually spoken of as "God's

Country;" the otherthat under the baneful shadow of the banner of rebellionwas designated by the most

To get from the latter to the former was to attain, at one bound, the highest good. Better to be a doorkeeper in

the House of the Lord, under the Stars and Stripes, than to dwell in the tents of wickedness, under the hateful

To take even the humblest and hardest of service in the field now would be a delightsome change. We did not

ask to go homewe would be content with anything, so long as it was in that blest place "within our lines."

Only let us get back once, and there would be no more grumbling at rations or guard dutywe would

willingly endure all the hardships and privations that soldier flesh is heir to.

There were two ways of getting backescape and exchange. Exchange was like the ever receding mirage of

the desert, that lures the thirsty traveler on over the parched sands, with illusions of refreshing springs, only to

leave his bones at last to whiten by the side of those of his unremembered predecessors. Every day there

came something to build up the hopes that exchange was near at handevery day brought something to

extinguish the hopes of the preceding one. We took these varying phases according to our several

temperaments. The sanguine built themselves up on the encouraging reports; the desponding sank down and

Escape was a perpetual allurement. To the actively inclined among us it seemed always possible, and daring,

busy brains were indefatigable in concocting schemes for it. The only bit of Rebel brain work that I ever saw

for which I did not feel contempt was the perfect precautions taken to prevent our escape. This is shown by

the fact that, although, from first to last, there were nearly fifty thousand prisoners in Andersonville, and three

out of every five of these were ever on the alert to take French leave of their captors, only three hundred and

twentyeight succeeded in getting so far away from Andersonville as to leave it to be presumed that they had

The first, and almost superhuman difficulty was to get outside the Stockade. It was simply impossible to scale

it. The guards were too close together to allow an instant's hope to the most sanguine, that he could even pass

the Dead Line without being shot by some one of them. This same closeness prevented any hope of bribing

them. To be successful half those on post would have to be bribed, as every part of the Stockade was clearly

visible from every other part, and there was no night so dark as not to allow a plain view to a number of

guards of the dark figure outlined against the light colored logs of any Yankee who should essay to clamber

The gates were so carefully guarded every time they were opened as to preclude hope of slipping out through

theme. They were only unclosed twice or thrice a dayonce to admit, the men to call the roll, once to let

them out again, once to let the wagons come in with rations, and once, perhaps, to admit, new prisoners. At

all these times every precaution was taken to prevent any one getting out surreptitiously.

This narrowed down the possibilities of passing the limits of the pen alive, to tunneling. This was also

surrounded by almost insuperable difficulties. First, it required not less than fifty feet of subterranean

excavation to get out, which was an enormous work with our limited means. Then the logs forming the

Stockade were set in the ground to a depth of five feet, and the tunnel had to go down beneath them. They

had an unpleasant habit of dropping down into the burrow under them. It added much to the discouragements

of tunneling to think of one of these massive timbers dropping upon a fellow as he worked his molelike way

under it, and either crushing him to death outright, or pinning him there to die of suffocation or hunger.

In one instance, in a tunnel near me, but in which I was not interested, the log slipped down after the digger

had got out beyond it. He immediately began digging for the surface, for life, and was fortunately able to

break through before he suffocated. He got his head above the ground, and then fainted. The guard outside

saw him, pulled him out of the hole, and when he recovered sensibility hurried him back into the Stockade.

In another tunnel, also near us, a broadshouldered German, of the Second Minnesota, went in to take his

turn at digging. He was so much larger than any of his predecessors that he stuck fast in a narrow part, and

despite all the efforts of himself and comrades, it was found impossible to move him one way or the other.

The comrades were at last reduced to the humiliation of informing the Officer of the Guard of their tunnel

and the condition of their friend, and of asking assistance to release him, which was given.

The great tunneling tool was the indispensable halfcanteen. The inventive genius of our people, stimulated

by the war, produced nothing for the comfort and effectiveness of the soldier equal in usefulness to this

humble and unrecognized utensil. It will be remembered that a canteen was composed of two pieces of tin

struck up into the shape of saucers, and soldered together at the edges. After a soldier had been in the field a

little while, and thrown away or lost the curious and complicated kitchen furniture he started out with, he

found that by melting the halves of his canteen apart, he had a vessel much handier in every way than any he

had parted with. It could be used for anything to make soup or coffee in, bake bread, brown coffee, stew

vegetables, etc., etc. A sufficient handle was made with a split stick. When the cooking was done, the handle

was thrown away, and the half canteen slipped out of the road into the haversack. There seemed to be no end

of the uses to which this everready disk of blackened sheet iron could be turned. Several instances are on

record where infantry regiments, with no other tools than this, covered themselves on the field with quite

The starting point of a tunnel was always some tent close to the Dead Line, and sufficiently well closed to

screen the operations from the sight of the guards near by. The party engaged in the work organized by giving

every man a number to secure the proper apportionment of the labor. Number One began digging with his

half canteen. After he had worked until tired, he came out, and Number Two took his place, and so on. The

tunnel was simply a round, ratlike burrow, a little larger than a man's body. The digger lay on his stomach,

dug ahead of him, threw the dirt under him, and worked it back with his feet till the man behind him, also

lying on his stomach, could catch it and work it back to the next. As the tunnel lengthened the number of men

behind each other in this way had to be increased, so that in a tunnel seventyfive feet long there would be

from eight to ten men lying one behind the other. When the dirt was pushed back to the mouth of the tunnel it

was taken up in improvised bags, made by tying up the bottoms of pantaloon legs, carried to the Swamp, and

emptied. The work in the tunnel was very exhausting, and the digger had to be relieved every halfhour.

The greatest trouble was to carry the tunnel forward in a straight line. As nearly everybody dug most of the

time with the right hand, there was an almost irresistible tendency to make the course veer to the left. The

first tunnel I was connected with was a ludicrous illustration of this. About twenty of us had devoted our

nights for over a week to the prolongation of a burrow. We had not yet reached the Stockade, which

astonished us, as measurement with a string showed that we had gone nearly twice the distance necessary for

the purpose. The thing was inexplicable, and we ceased operations to consider the matter. The next day a man

walking by a tent some little distance from the one in which the hole began, was badly startled by the ground

giving way under his feet, and his sinking nearly to his waist in a hole. It was very singular, but after

wondering over the matter for some hours, there came a glimmer of suspicion that it might be, in some way,

connected with the missing end of our tunnel. One of us started through on an exploring expedition, and

confirmed the suspicions by coming out where the man had broken through. Our tunnel was shaped like a

horse shoe, and the beginning and end were not fifteen feet apart. After that we practised digging with our left

Another trouble connected with tunneling was the number of traitors and spies among us. There were

manyprincipally among the N'Yaarker crowd who were always zealous to betray a tunnel, in order to curry

favor with the Rebel officers. Then, again, the Rebels had numbers of their own men in the pen at night, as

spies. It was hardly even necessary to dress these in our uniform, because a great many of our own men came

into the prison in Rebel clothes, having been compelled to trade garments with their captors.

One day in May, quite an excitement was raised by the detection of one of these "tunnel traitors" in such a

way as left no doubt of his guilt. At first everybody vas in favor of killing him, and they actually started to

beat him to death. This was arrested by a proposition to "have Captain Jack tattoo him," and the suggestion

"Captain Jack" was a sailor who had been with us in the Pemberton building at Richmond. He was a very

skilful tattoo artist, but, I am sure, could make the process nastier than any other that I ever saw attempt it. He

chewed tobacco enormously. After pricking away for a few minutes at the design on the arm or some portion

of the body, he would deluge it with a flood of tobacco spit, which, he claimed, acted as a kind of mordant.

Piping this off with a filthy rag, he would study the effect for an instant, and then go ahead with another

The tunneltraitor was taken to Captain Jack. That worthy decided to brand him with a great "T," the top part

to extend across his forehead and the stem to run down his nose. Captain Jack got his tattooing kit ready, and

the fellow was thrown upon the ground and held there. The Captain took his head between his legs, and

began operations. After an instant's work with the needles, he opened his mouth, and filled the wretch's face

and eyes full of the disgusting saliva. The crowd round about yelled with delight at this new process. For an

hour, that was doubtless an eternity to the rascal undergoing branding, Captain Jack continued his alternate

pickings and drenchings. At the end of that time the traitor's face was disfigured with a hideous mark that he

would bear to his grave. We learned afterwards that he was not one of our men, but a Rebel spy. This added

much to our satisfaction with the manner of his treatment. He disappeared shortly after the operation was

finished, being, I suppose, taken outside. I hardly think Captain Jack would be pleased to meet him again.

Those who succeeded, one way or another, in passing the Stockade limits, found still more difficulties lying

between them and freedom than would discourage ordinarily resolute men. The first was to get away from the

immediate vicinity of the prison. All around were Rebel patrols, pickets and guards, watching every avenue

of egress. Several packs of hounds formed efficient coadjutors of these, and were more dreaded by possible

"escapes," than any other means at the command of our jailors. Guards and patrols could be evaded, or

circumvented, but the hounds could not. Nearly every man brought back from a futile attempt at escape told

the same story: he had been able to escape the human Rebels, but not their canine colleagues. Three of our

detachmentmembers of the Twentieth Indianahad an experience of this kind that will serve to illustrate

hundreds of others. They had been taken outside to do some work upon the cookhouse that was being built.

A guard was sent with the three a little distance into the woods to get a piece of timber. The boys sauntered,

along carelessly with the guard, and managed to get pretty near him. As soon as they were fairly out of sight

of the rest, the strongest of themTom Williamssnatched the Rebel's gun away from him, and the other

two springing upon him as swift as wild cats, throttled him, so that he could not give the alarm. Still keeping

a hand on his throat, they led him off some distance, and tied him to a sapling with strings made by tearing up

one of their blouses. He was also securely gagged, and the boys, bidding him a hasty, but not specially tender,

farewell, struck out, as they fondly hoped, for freedom. It was not long until they were missed, and the parties

sent in search found and released the guard, who gave all the information he possessed as to what had

become of his charges. All the packs of hounds, the squads of cavalry, and the foot patrols were sent out to

scour the adjacent country. The Yankees kept in the swamps and creeks, and no trace of them was found that

afternoon or evening. By this time they were ten or fifteen miles away, and thought that they could safely

leave the creeks for better walking on the solid ground. They had gone but a few miles, when the pack of

hounds Captain Wirz was with took their trail, and came after them in full cry. The boys tried to ran, but,

exhausted as they were, they could make no headway. Two of them were soon caught, but Tom Williams,

who was so desperate that he preferred death to recapture, jumped into a millpond near by. When he came

up, it was in a lot of saw logs and drift wood that hid him from being seen from the shore. The dogs stopped

at the shore, and bayed after the disappearing prey. The Rebels with them, who had seen Tom spring in, came

up and made a pretty thorough search for him. As they did not think to probe around the drift wood this was

unsuccessful, and they came to the conclusion that Tom had been drowned. Wirz marched the other two back

and, for a wonder, did not punish them, probably because he was so rejoiced at his success in capturing them.

He was beaming with delight when he returned them to our squad, and said, with a chuckle:

"Brisoners, I pring you pack two of dem tam Yankees wat got away yesterday, unt I run de oder raskal into a

What was our astonishment, about three weeks later, to see Tom, fat and healthy, and dressed in a full suit of

butternut, come stalking into the pen. He had nearly reached the mountains, when a pack of hounds,

patrolling for deserters or negros, took his trail, where he had crossed the road from one field to another, and

speedily ran him down. He had been put in a little country jail, and well fed till an opportunity occurred to

send him back. This patrolling for negros and deserters was another of the great obstacles to a successful

passage through the country. The rebels had put, every ablebodied white man in the ranks, and were

bending every energy to keep him there. The whole country was carefully policed by Provost Marshals to

bring out those who were shirking military duty, or had deserted their colors, and to check any movement by

the negros. One could not go anywhere without a pass, as every road was continually watched by men and

hounds. It was the policy of our men, when escaping, to avoid roads as much as possible by traveling through

From what I saw of the hounds, and what I could learn from others, I believe that each pack was made up of

two bloodhounds and from twenty five to fifty other dogs, The bloodhounds were debased descendants of

the strong and fierce hounds imported from Cubamany of them by the United States Governmentfor

hunting Indians, during the Seminole war. The other dogs were the mongrels that are found in such

plentifulness about every Southern houseincreasing, as a rule, in numbers as the inhabitant of the house is

lower down and poorer. They are like wolves, sneaking and cowardly when alone, fierce and bold when in

packs. Each pack was managed by a wellarmed man, who rode a mule; and carried, slung over his shoulders

by a cord, a cow horn, scraped very thin, with which he controlled the band by signals.

What always puzzled me much was why the hounds took only Yankee trails, in the vicinity of the prison.

There was about the Stockade from six thousand to ten thousand Rebels and negros, including guards,

officers, servants, workmen, etc. These were, of course, continually in motion and must have daily made

trails leading in every direction. It was the custom of the Rebels to send a pack of hounds around the prison

every morning, to examine if any Yankees had escaped during the night. It was believed that they rarely

failed to find a prisoner's tracks, and still more rarely ran off upon a Rebel's. If those outside the Stockade had

been confined to certain path and roads we could have understood this, but, as I understand, they were not. It

was part of the interest of the day, for us, to watch the packs go yelping around the pen searching for tracks.

We got information in this way whether any tunnel had been successfully opened during the night.

The use of hounds furnished us a crushing reply to the ever recurring Rebel question:

In May the long gathering storm of war burst with angry violence all along the line held by the contending

armies. The campaign began which was to terminate eleven months later in the obliteration of the Southern

Confederacy. May 1, Sigel moved up the Shenandoah Valley with thirty thousand men; May 3, Butler began

his blundering movement against Petersburg; May 3, the Army of the Potomac left Culpeper, and on the 5th

began its deadly grapple with Lee, in the Wilderness; May 6, Sherman moved from Chattanooga, and

Each of these columns lost heavily in prisoners. It could not be otherwise; it was a consequence of the

aggressive movements. An army acting offensively usually suffers more from capture than one on the

defensive. Our armies were penetrating the enemy's country in close proximity to a determined and vigilant

foe. Every scout, every skirmish line, every picket, every foraging party ran the risk of falling into a Rebel

The bulk of the prisoners were taken from the Army of the Potomac. For this there were two reasons: First,

that there were many more men in that Army than in any other; and second, that the entanglement in the

dense thickets and shrubbery of the Wilderness enabled both sides to capture great numbers of the other's

men. Grant lost in prisoners from May 5 to May 31, seven thousand four hundred and fifty; he probably

Wirz's headquarters were established in a large log house which had been built in the fort a little distant from

the southeast corner of the prison. Every dayand sometimes twice or thrice a daywe would see great

squads of prisoners marched up to these headquarters, where they would be searched, their names entered

upon the prison records, by clerks (detailed prisoners; few Rebels had the requisite clerical skill) and then be

marched into the prison. As they entered, the Rebel guards would stand to arms. The infantry would be in line

of battle, the cavalry mounted, and the artillerymen standing by their guns, ready to open at the instant with

The disparity between the number coming in from the Army of the Potomac and Western armies was so

great, that we Westerners began to take some advantage of it. If we saw a squad of one hundred and fifty or

thereabouts at the headquarters, we felt pretty certain they were from Sherman, and gathered to meet them,

and learn the news from our friends. If there were from five hundred to two thousand we knew they were

from the Army of the Potomac, and there were none of our comrades among them. There were three

exceptions to this rule while we were in Andersonville. The first was in June, when the drunken and

incompetent Sturgis (now Colonel of the Seventh United States Cavalry) shamefully sacrificed a superb

division at Guntown, Miss. The next was after Hood made his desperate attack on Sherman, on the 22d of

July, and the third was when Stoneman was captured at Macon. At each of these times about two thousand

By the end of May there were eighteen thousand four hundred and fifty four prisoners in the Stockade.

Before the reader dismisses this statement from his mind let him reflect how great a number this is. It is more

active, ablebodied young men than there are in any of our leading Cities, save New York and Philadelphia.

It is more than the average population of an Ohio County. It is four times as many troops as Taylor won the

victory of Buena Vista with, and about twice as many as Scott went into battle with at any time in his march

These eighteen thousand four hundred and fiftyfour men were cooped up on less than thirteen acres of

ground, making about fifteen hundred to the acre. No room could be given up for streets, or for the usual

arrangements of a camp, and most kinds of exercise were wholly precluded. The men crowded together like

pigs nesting in the woods on cold nights. The ground, despite all our efforts, became indescribably filthy, and

this condition grew rapidly worse as the season advanced and the sun's rays gained fervency. As it is

impossible to describe this adequately, I must again ask the reader to assist with a few comparisons. He has

an idea of how much filth is produced, on an ordinary City lot, in a week, by its occupation by a family say of

six persons. Now let him imagine what would be the result if that lot, instead of having upon it six persons,

with every appliance for keeping themselves clean, and for removing and concealing filth, was the home of

That he may figure out these proportions for himself, I will repeat some of the elements of the problem: We

will say that an average City lot is thirty feet front by one hundred deep. This is more front than most of them

have, but we will be liberal. This gives us a surface of three thousand square feet. An acre contains

fortythree thousand five hundred and sixty square feet. Upon thirteen of these acres, we had eighteen

thousand four hundred and fiftyfour men. After he has found the number of square feet that each man had

for sleeping apartment, dining room, kitchen, exercise grounds and outhouses, and decided that nobody could

live for any length of time in such contracted space, I will tell him that a few weeks later double that many

men were crowded upon that space that over thirtyfive thousand were packed upon those twelve and ahalf

But I will not anticipate. With the warm weather the condition of the swamp in the center of the prison

became simply horrible. We hear so much nowadays of blood poisoning from the effluvia of sinks and

sewers, that reading it, I wonder how a man inside the Stockade, and into whose nostrils came a breath of that

noisomeness, escaped being carried off by a malignant typhus. In the slimy ooze were billions of white

maggots. They would crawl out by thousands on the warm sand, and, lying there a few minutes, sprout a

wing or a pair of them. With these they would essay a clumsy flight, ending by dropping down upon some

exposed portion of a man's body, and stinging him like a gadfly. Still worse, they would drop into what he

was cooking, and the utmost care could not prevent a mess of food from being contaminated with them.

All the water that we had to use was that in the creek which flowed through this seething mass of corruption,

and received its sewerage. How pure the water was when it came into the Stockade was a question. We

always believed that it received the drainage from the camps of the guards, a halfamile away.

A road was made across the swamp, along the Dead Line at the west side, where the creek entered the pen.

Those getting water would go to this spot, and reach as far up the stream as possible, to get the water that was

least filthy. As they could reach nearly to the Dead Line this furnished an excuse to such of the guards as

were murderously inclined to fire upon them. I think I hazard nothing in saying that for weeks at least one

man a day was killed at this place. The murders became monotonous; there was a dreadful sameness to them.

A gun would crack; looking up we would see, still smoking, the muzzle of the musket of one of the guards on

either side of the creek. At the same instant would rise a piercing shriek from the man struck, now

floundering in the creek in his death agony. Then thousands of throats would yell out curses and

It was our belief that every guard who killed a Yankee was rewarded with a thirtyday furlough. Mr.

Frederick Holliger, now of Toledo, formerly a member of the SeventySecond Ohio, and captured at

Guntown, tells me, as his introduction to Andersonville life, that a few hours after his entry he went to the

brook to get a drink, reached out too far, and was fired upon by the guard, who missed him, but killed another

man and wounded a second. The other prisoners standing near then attacked him, and beat him nearly to

Nothing could be more inexcusable than these murders. Whatever defense there might be for firing on men

who touched the Dead Line in other parts of the prison, there could be none here. The men had no intention

of escaping; they had no designs upon the Stockade; they were not leading any party to assail it. They were in

every instance killed in the act of reaching out with their cups to dip up a little water.

Let the reader understand that in any strictures I make I do not complain of the necessary hardships of war. I

understood fully and accepted the conditions of a soldier's career. My going into the field uniformed and

armed implied an intention, at least, of killing, wounding, or capturing, some of the enemy. There was

consequently no ground of complaint if I was, myself killed, wounded, or captured. If I did not want to take

these chances I ought to stay at home. In the same way, I recognized the right of our captors or guards to take

proper precautions to prevent our escape. I never questioned for an instant the right of a guard to fire upon

those attempting to escape, and to kill them. Had I been posted over prisoners I should have had no

compunction about shooting at those trying to get away, and consequently I could not blame the Rebels for

But not one of the men assassinated by the guards at Andersonville were trying to escape, nor could they

have got away if not arrested by a bullet. In a majority of instances there was not even a transgression of a

prison rule, and when there was such a transgression it was a mere harmless inadvertence. The slaying of

The most of this was done by very young boys; some of it by old men. The TwentySixth Alabama and

FiftyFifth Georgia, had guarded us since the opening of the prison, but now they were ordered to the field,

and their places filled by the Georgia "Reserves," an organization of boys under, and men over the military

age. As General Grant aptlyphrased it, "They had robbed the cradle and the grave," in forming these

regiments. The boys, who had grown up from children since the war began, could not comprehend that a

Yankee was a human being, or that it was any more wrongful to shoot one than to kill a mad dog. Their

young imaginations had been inflamed with stories of the total depravity of the Unionists until they believed

Early one morning I overheard a conversation between two of these youthful guards:

Evidently the juvenile murderer had no more conception that he had committed crime than if he had killed a

Among those who came in about the last of the month were two thousand men from Butler's command, lost

in the disastrous action of May 15, by which Butler was "bottled up" at Bermuda Hundreds. At that time the

Rebel hatred for Butler verged on insanity, and they vented this upon these men who were so lucklessin

every senseas to be in his command. Every pains was taken to mistreat them. Stripped of every article of

clothing, equipment, and cooking utensilseverything, except a shirt and a pair of pantaloons, they were

turned bareheaded and barefooted into the prison, and the worst possible place in the pen hunted out to locate

them upon. This was under the bank, at the edge of the Swamp and at the eastern side of the prison, where the

sinks were, and all filth from the upper part of the camp flowed down to them. The sand upon which they lay

was dry and burning as that of a tropical desert; they were without the slightest shelter of any kind, the

maggot flies swarmed over them, and the stench was frightful. If one of them survived the germ theory of

The increasing number of prisoners made it necessary for the Rebels to improve their means of guarding and

holding us in check. They threw up a line of rifle pits around the Stockade for the infantry guards. At

intervals along this were piles of hand grenades, which could be used with fearful effect in case of an

outbreak. A strong star fort was thrown up at a little distance from the southwest corner. Eleven field pieces

were mounted in this in such a way as to rake the Stockade diagonally. A smaller fort, mounting five guns,

was built at the northwest corner, and at the northeast and southeast corners were small lunettes, with a

couple of howitzers each. Packed as we were we had reason to dread a single round from any of these works,

Still a plot was concocted for a break, and it seemed to the sanguine portions of us that it must prove

successful. First a secret society was organized, bound by the most stringent oaths that could be devised. The

members of this were divided into companies of fifty men each; under officers regularly elected. The secrecy

was assumed in order to shut out Rebel spies and the traitors from a knowledge of the contemplated outbreak.

A man named Bakerbelonging, I think, to some New York regimentwas the grand organizer of the

scheme. We were careful in each of our companies to admit none to membership except such as long

The plan was to dig large tunnels to the Stockade at various places, and then hollow out the ground at the foot

of the timbers, so that a half dozen or so could be pushed over with a little effort, and make a gap ten or

twelve feet wide. All these were to be thrown down at a preconcerted signal, the companies were to rush out

and seize the eleven guns of the headquarters fort. The Plymouth Brigade was then to man these and turn

them on the camp of the Reserves who, it was imagined, would drop their arms and take to their heels after

receiving a round or so of shell. We would gather what arms we could, and place them in the hands of the

most active and determined. This would give us frown eight to ten thousand fairly armed, resolute men, with

We worked energetically at our tunnels, which soon began to assume such shape as to give assurance that

Then came the usual blight to all such enterprises: a spy or a traitor revealed everything to Wirz. One day a

guard came in, seized Baker and took him out. What was done with him I know not; we never heard of him

Immediately afterward all the Sergeants of detachments were summoned outside. There they met Wirz, who

made a speech informing them that he knew all the details of the plot, and had made sufficient preparations to

defeat it. The guard had been strongly reinforced, and disposed in such a manner as to protect the guns from

capture. The Stockade had been secured to prevent its falling, even if undermined. He said, in addition, that

Sherman had been badly defeated by Johnston, and driven back across the river, so that any hopes of

When the Sergeants returned, he caused the following notice to be posted on the gates

Not wishing to shed the blood of hundreds, not connected with those who concocted a mad plan to force the

Stockade, and make in this way their escape, I hereby warn the leaders and those who formed themselves into

a band to carry out this, that I am in possession of all the facts, and have made my dispositions accordingly,

so as to frustrate it. No choice would be left me but to open with grape and canister on the Stockade, and

The next day a line of tall poles, bearing white flags, were put up at some little distance from the Dead Line,

and a notice was read to us at roll call that if, except at roll call, any gathering exceeding one hundred was

observed, closer the Stockade than these poles, the guns would open with grape and canister without warning.

The number of deaths in the Stockade in May was seven hundred and eight, about as many as had been killed

After Wirz's threat of grape and canister upon the slightest provocation, we lived in daily apprehension of

some pretext being found for opening the guns upon us for a general massacre. Bitter experience had long

since taught us that the Rebels rarely threatened in vain. Wirz, especially, was much more likely to kill

without warning, than to warn without killing. This was because of the essential weakness of his nature. He

knew no art of government, no method of discipline save "kill them!" His petty little mind's scope reached no

further. He could conceive of no other way of managing men than the punishment of every offense, or

seeming offense, with death. Men who have any talent for governing find little occasion for the death penalty.

The stronger they are in themselvesthe more fitted for controlling othersthe less their need of enforcing

There was a general expression of determination among the prisoners to answer any cannonade with a

desperate attempt to force the Stockade. It was agreed that anything was better than dying like rats in a pit or

wild animals in a battue. It was believed that if anything would occur which would rouse half those in the pen

to make a headlong effort in concert, the palisade could be scaled, and the gates carried, and, though it would

be at a fearful loss of life, the majority of those making the attempt would get out. If the Rebels would

discharge grape and canister, or throw a shell into the prison, it would lash everybody to such a pitch that

they would see that the sole forlorn hope of safety lay in wresting the arms away from our tormentors. The

great element in our favor was the shortness of the distance between us and the cannon. We could hope to

Whether it would have been possible to succeed I am unable to say. It would have depended wholly upon the

spirit and unanimity with which the effort was made. Had ten thousand rushed forward at once, each with a

determination to do or die, I think it would have been successful without a loss of a tenth of the number. But

the insuperable troublein our disorganized statewas want of concert of action. I am quite sure, however,

One day, while the agitation of this matter was feverish, I was cooking my dinnerthat is, boiling my pitiful

little ration of unsalted meal, in my fruit can, with the aid of a handful of splinters that I had been able to pick

up by a half day's diligent search. Suddenly the long rifle in the headquarters fort rang out angrily. A fuse

shell shrieked across the prisonclose to the tops of the logs, and burst in the woods beyond. It was

I sprang upmy heart in my mouth. The long dreaded time had arrived; the Rebels had opened the massacre

I looked across to the opposite bank, on which were standing twelve thousand menerect, excited, defiant. I

was sure that at the next shot they would surge straight against the Stockade like a mighty human billow, and

The excitement and suspense were terrible. We waited for what seemed ages for the next gun. It was not

fired. Old Winder was merely showing the prisoners how he could rally the guards to oppose an outbreak.

Though the gun had a shell in it, it was merely a signal, and the guards came doublequicking up by

As we realized what the whole affair meant, we relieved our surcharged feelings with a few general yells of

execration upon Rebels generally, and upon those around us particularly, and resumed our occupation of

cooking rations, killing lice, and discussing the prospects of exchange and escape.

The rations, like everything else about us, had steadily grown worse. A bakery was built outside of the

Stockade in May and our meal was baked there into loaves about the size of brick. Each of us got a half of

one of these for a day's ration. This, and occasionally a small slice of salt pork, was call that I received. I wish

the reader would prepare himself an object lesson as to how little life can be supported on for any length of

time, by procuring a piece of corn bread the size of an ordinary brickbat, and a thin slice of pork, and then

imagine how he would fare, with that as his sole daily ration, for long hungry weeks and months. Dio Lewis

satisfied himself that he could sustain life on sixty cents, a week. I am sure that the food furnished us by the

Rebels would not, at present prices cost onethird that. They pretended to give us onethird of pound of

bacon and one and onefourth pounds of corn meal. A week's rations then would be two and onethird

pounds of baconworth ten cents, and eight and threefourths pounds of meal, worth, say, ten cents more.

As a matter of fact, I do not presume that at any time we got this full ration. It would surprise me to learn that

The meal was ground very coarse and produced great irrition in the bowels. We used to have the most

frightful cramps that men ever suffered from. Those who were predisposed intestinal affections were speedily

carried off by incurable diarrhea and dysentery. Of the twelve thousand and twelve men who died, four

thousand died of chronic diarrhea; eight hundred and seventeen died of acute diarrhea, and one thousand

three hundred and eightyfour died of dysenteria, making total of six thousand two hundred and one victims

Let the reader reflect a moment upon this number, till comprehends fully how many six thousand two

hundred and men are, and how much force, energy, training, and rich possibilities for the good of the

community and country died with those six thousand two hundred and one young, active men. It may help his

perception of the magnitude of this number to remember that the total loss of the British, during the Crimean

war, by death in all shapes, was four thousand five hundred and ninetyfive, or one thousand seven hundred

The loathsome maggot flies swarmed about the bakery, and dropped into the trough where the dough was

being mixed, so that it was rare to get a ration of bread not contaminated with a few of them.

It was not long until the bakery became inadequate to supply bread for all the prisoners. Then great iron

kettles were set, and mush was issued to a number of detachments, instead of bread. There was not so much

cleanliness and care in preparing this as a farmer shows in cooking food for stock. A deep wagonbed would

be shoveled full of the smoking paste, which was then hailed inside and issued out to the detachments, the

latter receiving it on blankets, pieces of shelter tents, or, lacking even these, upon the bare sand.

As still more prisoners came in, neither bread nor mush could be furnished them, and a part of the

detachments received their rations in meal. Earnest solicitation at length resulted in having occasional scanty

issues of wood to cook this with. My detachment was allowed to choose which it would takebread, mush

Cooking the meal was the topic of daily interest. There were three ways of doing it: Bread, mush and

"dumplings." In the latter the meal was dampened until it would hold together, and was rolled into little balls,

the size of marbles, which were then boiled. The bread was the most satisfactory and nourishing; the mush

the bulkiestit made a bigger show, but did not stay with one so long. The dumplings held an intermediate

positionthe water in which they were boiled becoming a sort of a broth that helped to stay the stomach. We

received no salt, as a rule. No one knows the intense longing for this, when one goes without it for a while.

When, after a privation of weeks we would get a teaspoonful of salt apiece, it seemed as if every muscle in

our bodies was invigorated. We traded buttons to the guards for red peppers, and made our mush, or bread, or

dumplings, hot with the fierypods, in hopes that this would make up for the lack of salt, but it was a failure.

One pinch of salt was worth all the pepper pods in the Southern Confederacy. My little squadnow

diminished by death from five to threecooked our rations together to economize wood and waste of meal,

and quarreled among, ourselves daily as to whether the joint stock should be converted into bread, mush or

dumplings. The decision depended upon the state of the stomach. If very hungry, we made mush; if less

This may seem a trifling matter, but it was far from it. We all remember the man who was very fond of white

beans, but after having fifty or sixty meals of them in succession, began to find a suspicion of monotony in

the provender. We had now six months of unvarying diet of corn meal and water, and even so slight a change

At the end of June there were twentysix thousand three hundred and sixtyseven prisoners in the Stockade,

May and June made sad havoc in the already thin ranks of our battalion. Nearly a score died in my

companyLand the other companies suffered proportionately. Among the first to die of my company

comrades, was a genial little Corporal, "Billy" Phillipswho was a favorite with us all. Everything was done

for him that kindness could suggest, but it was of little avail. Then "Bruno" Weeksa young boy, the son of

a preacher, who had run away from his home in Fulton County, Ohio, to join us, succumbed to hardship and

The next to go was goodnatured, harmless Victor Seitz, a Detroit cigar maker, a German, and one of the

slowest of created mortals. How he ever came to go into the cavalry was beyond the wildest surmises of his

comrades. Why his supernatural slowness and clumsiness did not result in his being killed at least once a day,

while in the service, was even still farther beyond the power of conjecture. No accident ever happened in the

company that Seitz did not have some share in. Did a horse fall on a slippery road, it was almost sure to be

Seitz's, and that imported son of the Fatherland was equally sure to be caught under him. Did somebody

tumble over a bank of a dark night, it was Seitz that we soon heard making his way back, swearing in deep

German gutterals, with frequent allusion to 'tausend teuflin.' Did a shanty blow down, we ran over and pulled

And as he surveyed the scene of his trouble with true German phlegm, he would fish a brierwood pipe from

the recesses of his pockets, fill it with tobacco, and go plodding off in a cloud of smoke in search of some

fresh way to narrowly escape destruction. He did not know enough about horses to put a snafflebit in one's

mouth, and yet he would draw the friskiest, most mettlesome animal in the corral, upon whose back he was

scarcely more at home than he would be upon a slack rope. It was no uncommon thing to see a horse break

out of ranks, and go past the battalion like the wind, with poor Seitz clinging to his mane like the traditional

grim Death to a deceased African. We then knew that Seitz had thoughtlessly sunk the keen spurs he would

These accidents became so much a matterofcourse that when anything unusual occurred in the company

When the bugle sounded "boots and saddles," the rest of us would pack up, mount, "count off by fours from

the right," and be ready to move out before the last notes of the call had fairly died away. Just then we would

notice an unsaddled horse still tied to the hitching place. It was Seitz's, and that worthy would be seen

approaching, pipe in mouth, and bridle in hand, with calm, equable steps, as if any time before the expiration

of his enlistment would be soon enough to accomplish the saddling of his steed. A chorus of impatient and

"If you ain't on that horse in half a second, Seitz, we'll go off and leave you, and the Johnnies will skin you

Not a ripple of emotion would roll over Seitz's placid features under the sharpest of these objurgations. At

last, losing all patience, two or three boys would dismount, run to Seitz's horse, pack, saddle and bridle him,

as if he were struck with a whirlwind. Then Seitz would mount, and we would move 'off.

For all this, we liked him. His good nature was boundless, and his disposition to oblige equal to the severest

test. He did not lack a grain of his full share of the calm, steadfast courage of his race, and would stay where

he was put, though Erebus yawned and bade him fly. He was very useful, despite his unfitness for many of

the duties of a cavalryman. He was a good guard, and always ready to take charge of prisoners, or be sentry

But he came into the last trouble at Andersonville. He stood up pretty well under the hardships of Belle Isle,

but lost his cheerfulnesshis unrepining calmnessafter a few weeks in the Stockade. One day we

remembered that none of us had seen him for several days, and we started in search of him. We found him in

a distant part of the camp, lying near the Dead Line. His long fair hair was matted together, his blue eyes had

the flush of fever. Every part of his clothing was gray with the lice that were hastening his death with their

torments. He uttered the first complaint I ever heard him make, as I came up to him:

In a few days we gave him all the funeral in our power; tied his big toes together, folded his hands across his

And laid his body at the South Gate, beside some scores of others that were awaiting the arrival of the

sixmule wagon that hauled them to the Potter's Field, which was to be their last restingplace.

John Emerson and John Stiggall, of my company, were two Norwegian boys, and fine specimens of their

raceintelligent, faithful, and always ready for duty. They had an affection for each other that reminded one

of the stories told of the sworn attachment and the unfailing devotion that were common between two Gothic

warrior youths. Coming into Andersonville some little time after the rest of us, they found all the desirable

ground taken up, and they established their quarters at the base of the hill, near the Swamp. There they dug a

little hole to lie in, and put in a layer of pine leaves. Between them they had an overcoat and a blanket. At

night they lay upon the coat and covered themselves with the blanket. By day the blanket served as a tent.

The hardships and annoyances that we endured made everybody else cross and irritable. At times it seemed

impossible to say or listen to pleasant words, and nobody was ever allowed to go any length of time spoiling

for a fight. He could usually be accommodated upon the spot to any extent he desired, by simply making his

wishes known. Even the best of chums would have sharp quarrels and brisk fights, and this disposition

increased as disease made greater inroads upon them. I saw in one instance two brothersboth of whom died

the next day of scurvyand who were so helpless as to be unable to rise, pull themselves up on their knees

by clenching the poles of their tents in order to strike each other with clubs, and they kept striking until the

But Stiggall and Emerson never quarreled with each other. Their tenderness and affection were remarkable to

witness. They began to go the way that so many were going; diarrhea and scurvy set in; they wasted away till

their muscles and tissues almost disappeared, leaving the skin lying fiat upon the bones; but their principal

solicitude was for each other, and each seemed actually jealous of any person else doing anything for the

other. I met Emerson one day, with one leg drawn clear out of shape, and rendered almost useless by the

scurvy. He was very weak, but was hobbling down towards the Creek with a bucket made from a boot leg. I

"Johnny, just give me your bucket. I'll fill it for you, and bring it up to your tent."

"No; much obliged, M " he wheezed out; "my pardner wants a cool drink, and I guess I'd better get it for

Stiggall died in June. He was one of the first victims of scurvy, which, in the succeeding few weeks, carried

off so many. All of us who had read seastories had read much of this disease and its horrors, but we had

little conception of the dreadful reality. It usually manifested itself first in the mouth. The breath became

unbearably fetid; the gums swelled until they protruded, livid and disgusting, beyond the lips. The teeth

became so loose that they frequently fell out, and the sufferer would pick them up and set them back in their

sockets. In attempting to bite the hard corn bread furnished by the bakery the teeth often stuck fast and were

pulled out. The gums had a fashion of breaking away, in large chunks, which would be swallowed or spit out.

All the time one was eating his mouth would be filled with blood, fragments of gums and loosened teeth.

Frightful, malignant ulcers appeared in other parts of the body; the everpresent maggot flies laid eggs in

these, and soon worms swarmed therein. The sufferer looked and felt as if, though he yet lived and moved,

his body was anticipating the rotting it would undergo a little later in the grave.

The last change was ushered in by the lower parts of the legs swelling. When this appeared, we considered

the man doomed. We all had scurvy, more or less, but as long as it kept out of our legs we were hopeful.

First, the ankle joints swelled, then the foot became useless. The swelling increased until the knees became

stiff, and the skin from these down was distended until it looked pale, colorless and transparent as a tightly

blown bladder. The leg was so much larger at the bottom than at the thigh, that the sufferers used to make

grim jokes about being modeled like a churn, "with the biggest end down." The man then became utterly

The official report puts down the number of deaths from scurvy at three thousand five hundred and

seventyfour, but Dr. Jones, the Rebel surgeon, reported to the Rebel Government his belief that ninetenths

of the great mortality of the prison was due, either directly or indirectly, to this cause.

The only effort made by the Rebel doctors to check its ravages was occasionally to give a handful of sumach

When Stiggall died we thought Emerson would certainly follow him in a day or two, but, to our surprise, he

The gradually lengthening Summer days were insufferably long and wearisome. Each was hotter, longer and

more tedious than its predecessors. In my company was a nonetoobright fellow, named Dawson. During

the chilly rains or the nipping, winds of our first days in prison, Dawson would, as he rose in, the morning,

He was so unvarying in this salutation to the morn that his designation of disagreeable weather as "Ole Boo"

became generally adopted by us. When the hot weather came on, Dawson's remark, upon rising and seeing

excellent prospects for a scorcher, changed to: "Well, Ole Sol, the Haymaker, is going to git in his work on us

As long as he lived and was able to talk, this was Dawson's invariable observation at the break of day.

He was quite right. The Ole Haymaker would do some famous work before he descended in the West,

By nine o'clock in the morning his beams would begin to fairly singe everything in the crowded pen. The hot

sand would glow as one sees it in the center of the unshaded highway some scorching noon in August. The

high walls of the prison prevented the circulation inside of any breeze that might be in motion, while the foul

stench rising from the putrid Swamp and the rotting ground seemed to reach the skies.

One can readily comprehend the horrors of death on the burning sands of a desert. But the desert sand is at

least clean; there is nothing worse about it than heat and intense dryness. It is not, as that was at

Andersonville, poisoned with the excretions of thousands of sick and dying men, filled with disgusting

vermin, and loading the air with the germs of death. The difference is as that between a brickkiln and a

sewer. Should the fates ever decide that I shall be flung out upon sands to perish, I beg that the hottest place

in the Sahara may be selected, rather than such a spot as the interior of the Andersonville Stockade.

It may be said that we had an abundance of water, which made a decided improvement on a desert.

Doubtlesshad that water been pure. But every mouthful of it was a blood poison, and helped promote

disease and death. Even before reaching the Stockade it was so polluted by the drainage of the Rebel camps

as to be utterly unfit for human use. In our part of the prison we sank several wellssome as deep as forty

feetto procure water. We had no other tools for this than our everfaithful half canteens, and nothing

wherewith to wall the wells. But a firm clay was reached a few feet below the surface, which afforded

tolerable strong sides for the lower part, ana furnished material to make adobe bricks for curbs to keep out the

sand of the upper part. The sides were continually giving away, however, and fellows were perpetually falling

down the holes, to the great damage of their legs and arms. The water, which was drawn up in little cans, or

boot leg buckets, by strings made of strips of cloth, was much better than that of the creek, but was still far

The intense heat led men to drink great quantities of water, and this superinduced malignant dropsical

complaints, which, next to diarrhea, scurvy and gangrene, were the ailments most active in carrying men off.

Those affected in this way swelled up frightfully from day to day. Their clothes speedily became too small

for them, and were ripped off, leaving them entirely naked, and they suffered intensely until death at last

came to their relief. Among those of my squad who died in this way, was a young man named Baxter, of the

Fifth Indiana Cavalry, taken at Chicamauga. He was very fine lookingtall, slender, with regular features

and intensely black hair and eyes; he sang nicely, and was generally liked. A more pitiable object than he,

when last I saw him, just before his death, can not be imagined. His body had swollen until it seemed

marvelous that the human skin could bear so much distention without disruption, All the old look of bright

intelligence had been. driven from his face by the distortion of his features. His swarthy hair and beard,

grown long and ragged, had that peculiar repulsive look which the black hair of the sick is prone to assume.

I attributed much of my freedom from the diseases to which others succumbed to abstention from water

drinking. Long before I entered the army, I had constructed a theoryon premises that were doubtless as

insufficient as those that boyish theories are usually based uponthat drinking water was a habit, and a

pernicious one, which sapped away the energy. I took some trouble to curb my appetite for water, and soon

found that I got along very comfortably without drinking anything beyond that which was contained in my

food. I followed this up after entering the army, drinking nothing at any time but a little coffee, and finding

no need, even on the dustiest marches, for anything more. I do not presume that in a year I drank a quart of

cold water. Experience seemed to confirm my views, for I noticed that the first to sink under a fatigue, or to

yield to sickness, were those who were always on the lookout for drinking water, springing from their horses

and struggling around every well or spring on the line of march for an opportunity to fill their canteens.

I made liberal use of the Creek for bathing purposes, however, visiting it four or five times a, day during the

hot days, to wash myself all over. This did not cool one off much, for the shallow stream was nearly as hot as

the sand, but it seemed to do some good, and it helped pass away the tedious hours. The stream was nearly all

the time filled as full of bathers as they could stand, and the water could do little towards cleansing so many.

The occasional rain storms that swept across the prison were welcomed, not only because they cooled the air

temporarily, but because they gave us a showerbath. As they came up, nearly every one stripped naked and

got out where he could enjoy the full benefit of the falling water. Fancy, if possible, the spectacle of

twentyfive thousand or thirty thousand men without a stitch of clothing upon them. The like has not been

seen, I imagine, since the naked followers of Boadicea gathered in force to do battle to the Roman invaders.

It was impossible to get really clean. Our bodies seemed covered with a varnishlike, gummy matter that

defied removal by water alone. I imagined that it came from the rosin or turpentine, arising from the little

pitch pine fires over which we hovered when cooking our rations. It would yield to nothing except strong

soapand soap, as I have before statedwas nearly as scarce in the Southern Confederacy as salt. We in

prison saw even less of it, or rather, none at all. The scarcity of it, and our desire for it, recalls a bit of

I had steadfastly refused all offers of positions outside the prison on parole, as, like the great majority of the

prisoners, my hatred of the Rebels grew more bitter, day by day; I felt as if I would rather die than accept the

smallest favor at their hands, and I shared the common contempt for those who did. But, when the movement

for a grand attack on the Stockadementioned in a previous chapterwas apparently rapidly coming to a

head, I was offered a temporary detail outside to, assist in making up some rolls. I resolved to accept; first

because I thought I might get some information that would be of use in our enterprise; and, next, because I

foresaw that the rush through the gaps in the Stockade would be bloody business, and by going out in

advance I would avoid that much of the danger, and still be able to give effective assistance.

I was taken up to Wirz's office. He was writing at a desk at one end of a large room when the Sergeant

brought me in. He turned around, told the Sergeant to leave me, and ordered me to sit down upon a box at the

Turning his back and resuming his writing, in a few minutes he had forgotten me. I sat quietly, taking in the

details for a halfhour, and then, having exhausted everything else in the room, I began wondering what was

in the bog I was sitting upon. The lid was loose; I hitched it forward a little without attracting Wirz's

attention, and slipped my left hand down of a voyage of discovery. It seemed very likely that there was

something there that a loyal Yankee deserved better than a Rebel. I found that it was a fine article of soft

soap. A handful was scooped up and speedily shoved into my left pantaloon pocket. Expecting every instant

that Wirz would turn around and order me to come to the desk to show my handwriting, hastily and furtively

wiped my hand on the back of my shirt and watched Wirz with as innocent an expression as a school boy

assumes when he has just flipped a chewed paper wad across the room. Wirz was still engrossed in his

writing, and did not look around. I was emboldened to reach down for another handful. This was also

successfully transferred, the hand wiped off on the back of the shirt, and the face wore its expression of

infantile ingenuousness. Still Wirz did not look up. I kept dipping up handful after handful, until I had gotten

about a quart in the left hand pocket. After each handful I rubbed my hand off on the back of my shirt and

waited an instant for a summons to the desk. Then the process was repeated with the other hand, and a quart

Shortly after Wirz rose and ordered a guard to take me away and keep me, until he decided what to do with

me. The day was intensely hot, and soon the soap in my pockets and on the back of my shirt began burning

like double strength Spanish fly blisters. There was nothing to do but grin and bear it. I set my teeth, squatted

down under the shade of the parapet of the fort, and stood it silently and sullenly. For the first time in my life

I thoroughly appreciated the story of the Spartan boy, who stole the fox and suffered the animal to tear his

bowels out rather than give a sign which would lead to the exposure of his theft.

Between four and five o'clockafter I had endured the thing for five or six hours, a guard came with orders

from Wirz that I should be returned to the Stockade. Upon hastily removing my clothes, after coming inside, I

found I had a blister on each thigh, and one down my back, that would have delighted an old practitioner of

the heroic school. But I also had a half gallon of excellent soft soap. My chums and I took a magnificent

wash, and gave our clothes the same, and we still had soap enough left to barter for some onions that we had

The time moved with leaden feet. Do the best we could, there were very many tiresome hours for which no

occupation whatever could be found. All that was necessary to be done during the dayattending roll call,

drawing and cooking rations, killing lice and washingcould be disposed of in an hour's time, and we were

left with fifteen or sixteen waking hours, for which there was absolutely no employment. Very many tried to

escape both the heat and ennui by sleeping as much as possible through the day, but I noticed that those who

did this soon died, and consequently I did not do it. Card playing had sufficed to pass away the hours at first,

but our cards soon wore out, and deprived us of this resource. My chum, Andrews, and I constructed a set of

chessmen with an infinite deal of trouble. We found a soft, white root in the swamp which answered our

purpose. A boy near us had a tolerably sharp pocketknife, for the use of which a couple of hours each day,

we gave a few spoonfuls of meal. The knife was the only one among a large number of prisoners, as the

Rebel guards had an affection for that style of cutlery, which led them to search incoming prisoners, very

closely. The fortunate owner of this derived quite a little income of meal by shrewdly loaning it to his

knifeless comrades. The shapes that we made for pieces and pawns were necessarily very rude, but they were

sufficiently distinct for identification. We blackened one set with pitch pine soot, found a piece of plank that

would answer for a board and purchased it from its possessor for part of a ration of meal, and so were fitted

out with what served until our release to distract our attention from much of the surrounding misery.

Every one else procured such amusement as they could. Newcomers, who still had money and cards, gambled

as long as their means lasted. Those who had books read them until the leaves fell apart. Those who had

paper and pen and ink tried to write descriptions and keep journals, but this was usually given up after being

in prison a few weeks. I was fortunate enough to know a boy who had brought a copy of "Gray's Anatomy"

into prison with him. I was not specially interested in the subject, but it was Hobson's choice; I could read

anatomy or nothing, and so I tackled it with such good will that before my friend became sick and was taken

outside, and his book with him, I had obtained a very fair knowledge of the rudiments of physiology.

There was a little band of devoted Christian workers, among whom were Orderly Sergeant Thomas J.

Sheppard, NinetySeventh O. Y. L, now a leading Baptist minister in Eastern Ohio; Boston Corbett, who

afterward slew John Wilkes Booth, and Frank Smith, now at the head of the Railroad Bethel work at Toledo.

They were indefatigable in trying to evangelize the prison. A few of them would take their station in some

part of the Stockade (a different one every time), and begin singing some old familiar hymn like

and in a few minutes they would have an attentive audience of as many thousand as could get within hearing.

The singing would be followed by regular services, during which Sheppard, Smith, Corbett, and some others

would make short, spirited, practical addresses, which no doubt did much good to all who heard them, though

the grains of leaven were entirely too small to leaven such an immense measure of meal. They conducted

several funerals, as nearly like the way it was done at home as possible. Their ministrations were not confined

to mere lip service, but they labored assiduously in caring for the sick, and made many a poor fellow's way to

This was about all the religious services that we were favored with. The Rebel preachers did not make that

effort to save our misguided souls which one would have imagined they would having us where we could not

choose but hear they might have taken advantage of our situation to rake us fore and aft with their theological

artillery. They only attempted it in one instance. While in Richmond a preacher came into our room and

announced in an authoritative way that he would address us on religious subjects. We uncovered respectfully,

and gathered around him. He was a loudtongued, brawling Boanerges, who addressed the Lord as if drilling

He spoke but a few moments before making apparent his belief that the worst of crimes was that of being a

Yankee, and that a man must not only be saved through Christ's blood, but also serve in the Rebel army

Of course we raised such a yell of derision that the sermon was brought to an abrupt conclusion.

The only minister who came into the Stockade was a Catholic priest, middleaged, tall, slender, and

unmistakably devout. He was unwearied in his attention to the sick, and the whole day could be seen moving

around through the prison, attending to those who needed spiritual consolation. It was interesting to see him

administer the extreme unction to a dying man. Placing a long purple scarf about his own neck and a small

brazen crucifix in the hands of the dying one, he would kneel by the latter's side and anoint him upon the

eyes, ears, nostrils; lips, hands, feet and breast, with sacred oil; from a little brass vessel, repeating the while,

His unwearying devotion gained the admiration of all, no matter how little inclined one might be to view

priestliness generally with favor. He was evidently of such stuff as Christian heros have ever been made of,

and would have faced stake and fagot, at the call of duty, with unquailing eye. His name was Father

Hamilton, and he was stationed at Macon. The world should know more of a man whose services were so

The good father had the wisdom of the serpent, with the harmlessness of the dove. Though full of

commiseration for the unhappy lot of the prisoners, nothing could betray him into the slightest expression of

opinion regarding the war or those who were the authors of all this misery. In our impatience at our treatment,

and hunger for news, we forgot his sacerdotal character, and importuned him for tidings of the exchange. His

invariable reply was that he lived apart from these things and kept himself ignorant of them.

"But, father," said I one day, with an impatience that I could not wholly repress, "you must certainly hear or

read something of this, while you are outside among the Rebel officers." Like many other people, I supposed

"No, my son," replied he, in his usual calm, measured tones. "I go not among them, nor do I hear anything

from them. When I leave the prison in the evening, full of sorrow at what I have seen here, I find that the best

use I can make of my time is in studying the Word of God, and especially the Psalms of David."

We were not any longer good company for each other. We had heard over and over again all each other's

stories and jokes, and each knew as much about the other's previous history as we chose to communicate. The

story of every individual's past life, relations, friends, regiment, and soldier experience had been told again

and again, until the repetition was wearisome. The cool nights following the hot days were favorable to little

gossiping seances like the yarnspinning watches of sailors on pleasant nights. Our squad, though its stock of

stories was worn threadbare, was fortunate enough to have a sweet singer in Israel "Nosey" Payneof whose

tunefulness we never tired. He had a large repertoire of patriotic songs, which he sang with feeling and

correctness, and which helped much to make the calm Summer nights pass agreeably. Among the best of

these was "Brave Boys are They," which I always thought was the finest ballad, both in poetry and music,

With each long, hot Summer hour the lice, the maggotflies and the N'Yaarkers increased in numbers and

venomous activity. They were ever present annoyances and troubles; no time was free from them. The lice

worried us by day and tormented us by night; the maggotflies fouled our food, and laid in sores and wounds

larvae that speedily became masses of wriggling worms. The N'Yaarkers were human vermin that preyed

They formed themselves into bands numbering from five to twentyfive, each led by a bold, unscrupulous,

energetic scoundrel. We now called them "Raiders," and the most prominent and best known of the bands

were called by the names of their ruffian leaders, as "Mosby's Raiders," "Curtis's Raiders," "Delaney's

As long as we old prisoners formed the bulk of those inside the Stockade, the Raiders had slender picking.

They would occasionally snatch a blanket from the tent poles, or knock a boy down at the Creek and take his

silver watch from him; but this was all. Abundant opportunities for securing richer swag came to them with

the advent of the Plymouth Pilgrims. As had been before stated, these boys brought in with them a large

portion of their first instalment of veteran bountyaggregating in amount, according to varying estimates,

between twentyfive thousand and one hundred thousand dollars. The Pilgrims were likewise well clothed,

had an abundance of blankets and camp equipage, and a plentiful supply of personal trinkets, that could be

readily traded off to the Rebels. An average one of themeven if his money were all gonewas a bonanza

to any band which could succeed in plundering him. His watch and chain, shoes, knife, ring, handkerchief,

combs and similar trifles, would net several hundred dollars in Confederate money. The blockade, which cut

off the Rebel communication with the outer world, made these in great demand. Many of the prisoners that

came in from the Army of the Potomac repaid robbing equally well. As a rule those from that Army were not

searched so closely as those from the West, and not unfrequently they came in with all their belongings

untouched, where Sherman's men, arriving the same day, would be stripped nearly to the buff.

The methods of the Raiders were various, ranging all the way from sneak thievery to highway robbery. All

the arts learned in the prisons and purlieus of New York were put into exercise. Decoys, "bunkosteerers" at

home, would be on the lookout for promising subjects as each crowd of fresh prisoners entered the gate, and

by kindly offers to find them a sleeping place, lure them to where they could be easily despoiled during the

night. If the victim resisted there was always sufficient force at hand to conquer him, and not seldom his life

paid the penalty of his contumacy. I have known as many as three of these to be killed in a night, and their

bodieswith throats cut, or skulls crushed inbe found in the morning among the dead at the gates.

All men having money or valuables were under continual espionage, and when found in places convenient for

attack, a rush was made for them. They were knocked down and their persons rifled with such swift dexterity

At first these depredations were only perpetrated at night. The quarry was selected during the day, and

arrangements made for a descent. After the victim was asleep the band dashed down upon him, and sheared

him of his goods with incredible swiftness. Those near would raise the cry of "Raiders!" and attack the

robbers. If the latter had secured their booty they retreated with all possible speed, and were soon lost in the

crowd. If not, they would offer battle, and signal for assistance from the other bands. Severe engagements of

this kind were of continual occurrence, in which men were so badly beaten as to die from the effects. The

weapons used were fists, clubs, axes, tentpoles, etc. The Raiders were plentifully provided with the usual

weapons of their classslungshots and brassknuckles. Several of them had succeeded in smuggling

They had the great advantage in these rows of being well acquainted with each other, while, except the

Plymouth Pilgrims, the rest of the prisoners were made up of small squads of men from each regiment in the

service, and total strangers to all outside of their own little band. The Raiders could concentrate, if necessary,

four hundred or five hundred men upon any point of attack, and each member of the gangs had become so

familiarized with all the rest by long association in New York, and elsewhere, that he never dealt a blow

amiss, while their opponents were nearly as likely to attack friends as enemies.

By the middle of June the continual success of the Raiders emboldened them so that they no longer confined

their depredations to the night, but made their forays in broad daylight, and there was hardly an hour in the

twentyfour that the cry of "Raiders! Raiders!" did, not go up from some part of the pen, and on looking in

the direction of the cry, one would see a surging commotion, men struggling, and clubs being plied

vigorously. This was even more common than the guards shooting men at the Creek crossing.

One day I saw "Dick Allen's Raiders," eleven in number, attack a man wearing the uniform of Ellett's Marine

Brigade. He was a recent comer, and alone, but he was brave. He had come into possession of a spade, by

some means or another, and he used this with delightful vigor and effect. Two or three times he struck one of

his assailants so fairly on the head and with such good will that I congratulated myself that he had killed him.

Finally, Dick Allen managed to slip around behind him unnoticed, and striking him on the head with a

slungshot, knocked him down, when the whole crowd pounced upon him to kill him, but were driven off by

The proceeds of these forays enabled the Raiders to wax fat and lusty, while others were dying from

starvation. They all had good tents, constructed of stolen blankets, and their headquarters was a large, roomy

tent, with a circular top, situated on the street leading to the South Gate, and capable of accommodating from

seventyfive to one hundred men. All the material for this had been wrested away from others. While

hundreds were dying of scurvy and diarrhea, from the miserable, insufficient food, and lack of vegetables,

these fellows had flour, fresh meat, onions, potatoes, green beans, and other things, the very looks of which

were a torture to hungry, scorbutic, dysenteric men. They were on the best possible terms with the Rebels,

whom they fawned upon and groveled before, and were in return allowed many favors, in the way of trading,

Among their special objects of attack were the small traders in the prison. We had quite a number of these

whose genius for barter was so strong that it took root and flourished even in that unpropitious soil, and

during the time when new prisoners were constantly coming in with money, they managed to accumulate

small sumsfrom ten dollars upward, by trading between the guards and the prisoners. In the period

immediately following a prisoner's entrance he was likely to spend all his money and trade off all his

possessions for food, trusting to fortune to get him out of there when these were gone. Then was when he was

profitable to these gobetweens, who managed to make him pay handsomely for what he got. The Raiders

kept watch of these traders, and plundered them whenever occasion served. It reminded one of the habits of

the fishing eagle, which hovers around until some other bird catches a fish, and then takes it away.

To fully appreciate the condition of affairs let it be remembered that we were a community of twentyfive

thousand boys and young mennone too regardful of control at bestand now wholly destitute of

government. The Rebels never made the slightest attempt to maintain order in the prison. Their whole

energies were concentrated in preventing our escape. So long as we staid inside the Stockade, they cared as

little what we did there as for the performances of savages in the interior of Africa. I doubt if they would have

interfered had onehalf of us killed and eaten the other half. They rather took a delight in such atrocities as

came to their notice. It was an ocular demonstration of the total depravity of the Yankees.

Among ourselves there was no one in position to lay down law and enforce it. Being all enlisted men we were

on a dead level as far as rank was concernedthe highest being only Sergeants, whose stripes carried no

weight of authority. The time of our stay wasit was hopedtoo transient to make it worth while bothering

about organizing any form of government. The great bulk of the boys were recent comers, who hoped that in

another week or so they would be out again. There were no fat salaries to tempt any one to take upon himself

the duty of ruling the masses, and all were left to their own devices, to do good or evil, according to their

several bents, and as fear of consequences swayed them. Each little squad of men was a law unto themselves,

and made and enforced their own regulations on their own territory. The administration of justice was

reduced to its simplest terms. If a fellow did wrong he was poundedif there was anybody capable of doing

The almost unvarying success of the Raiders intheir forays gave the general impression that they were

invinciblethat is, that not enough men could be concentrated against them to whip them. Our illsuccess in

the attack we made on them in April helped us to the same belief. If we could not beat them then, we could

not now, after we had been enfeebled by months of starvation and disease. It seemed to us that the Plymouth

Pilgrims, whose organization was yet very strong, should undertake the task; but, as is usually the case in this

world, where we think somebody else ought to undertake the performance of a disagreeable public duty, they

did not see it in the light that we wished them to. They established guards around their squads, and helped

beat off the Raiders when their own territory was invaded, but this was all they would do. The rest of us

formed similar guards. In the southwest corner of the Stockadewhere I waswe formed ourselves into a

company of fifty active boysmostly belonging to my own battalion and to other Illinois regimentsof

which I was elected Captain. My First Lieutenant was a tall, taciturn, longarmed member of the One

Hundred and Eleventh Illinois, whom we called "Egypt," as he came from that section of the State. He was

wonderfully handy with his fists. I think he could knock a fellow down so that he would fallharder, and lie

longer than any person I ever saw. We made a tacit division of duties: I did the talking, and "Egypt" went

through the manual labor of knocking our opponents down. In the numerous little encounters in which our

company was engaged, "Egypt" would stand by my side, silent, grim and patient, while I pursued the

dialogue with the leader of the other crowd. As soon as he thought the conversation had reached the proper

point, his long left arm stretched out like a flash, and the other fellow dropped as if he had suddenly come in

range of a mule that was feeling well. That unexpected lefthander never failed. It would have made Charles

In spite of our company and our watchfulness, the Raiders beat us badly on one occasion. Marion Friend, of

Company I of our battalion, was one of the small traders, and had accumulated forty dollars by his bartering.

One evening at dusk Delaney's Raiders, about twentyfive strong, took advantage of the absence of most of

us drawing rations, to make a rush for Marion. They knocked him down, cut him across the wrist and neck

with a razor, and robbed him of his forty dollars. By the time we could rally Delaney and his attendant

This state of things had become unendurable. Sergeant Leroy L. Key, of Company M, our battalion, resolved

to make an effort to crush the Raiders. He was a printer, from Bloomington, Illinois, tall, dark, intelligent and

strongwilled, and one of the bravest men I ever knew. He was ably seconded by "Limber Jim," of the

SixtySeventh Illinois, whose lithe, sinewy form, and striking features reminded one of a young Sioux brave.

He had all of Key's desperate courage, but not his brains or his talent for leadership. Though fearfully reduced

in numbers, our battalion had still about one hundred well men in it, and these formed the nucleus for Key's

band of "Regulators," as they were styled. Among them were several who had no equals in physical strength

and courage in any of the Raider chiefs. Our best man was Ned Carrigan, Corporal of Company I, from

Chicagowho was so confessedly the best man in the whole prison that he was never called upon to

demonstrate it. He was a big hearted, genial Irish boy, who was never known to get into trouble on his own

account, but only used his fists when some of his comrades were imposed upon. He had fought in the ring,

and on one occasion had killed a man with a single blow of his fist, in a prize fight near St. Louis. We were

all very proud of him, and it was as good as an entertainment to us to see the noisiest roughs subside into

deferential silence as Ned would come among them, like some grand mastiff in the midst of a pack of yelping

curs. Ned entered into the regulating scheme heartily. Other stalwart specimens of physical manhood in our

battalion were Sergeant Goody, Ned Johnson, Tom Larkin, and others, who, while not approaching

Carrigan's perfect manhood, were still more than a match for the best of the Raiders.

Key proceeded with the greatest secrecy in the organization of his forces. He accepted none but Western men,

and preferred Illinoisans, Iowans, Kansans, Indianians and Ohioans. The boys from those States seemed to

naturally go together, and be moved by the same motives. He informed Wirz what he proposed doing, so that

any unusual commotion within the prison might not be mistaken for an attempt upon the Stockade, and made

the excuse for opening with the artillery. Wirz, who happened to be in a complaisant humor, approved of the

design, and allowed him the use of the enclosure of the North Gate to confine his prisoners in.

In spite of Key's efforts at secrecy, information as to his scheme reached the Raiders. It was debated at their

headquarters, and decided there that Key must be killed. Three men were selected to do this work. They

called on Key, a dusk, on the evening of the 2d of July. In response to their inquiries, he came out of the

blanketcovered hole on the hillside that he called his tent. They told him what they had heard, and asked if it

was true. He said it was. One of them then drew a knife, and the other two, "billies" to attack him. But,

anticipating trouble, Key had procured a revolver which one of the Pilgrims had brought in in his knapsack

The occurrence caused the greatest excitement. To us of the Regulators it showed that the Raiders had

penetrated our designs, and were prepared for them. To the great majority of the prisoners it was the first

intimation that such a thing was contemplated; the news spread from squad to squad with the greatest

rapidity, and soon everybody was discussing the chances of the movement. For awhile men ceased their

interminable discussion of escape and exchangelet those over worked words and themes have a rare spell

of reposeand debated whether the Raiders would whip the regulators, oi the Regulators conquer the

Raiders. The reasons which I have previously enumerated, induced a general disbelief in the probability of

our success. The Raiders were in good health well fed, used to operating together, and had the confidence

begotten by a long series of successes. The Regulators lacked in all these respects.

Whether Key had originally fixed on the next day for making the attack, or whether this affair precipitated the

crisis, I know not, but later in the evening he sent us all order: to be on our guard all night, and ready for

There was very little sleep anywhere that night. The Rebels learned through their spies that something

unusual was going on inside, and as their only interpretation of anything unusual there was a design upon the

Stockade, they strengthened the guards, took additional precautions in every way, and spent the hours in

We, fearing that the Raiders might attempt to frustrate the scheme by an attack in overpowering force on

Key's squad, which would be accompanied by the assassination of him and Limber Jim, held ourselves in

The Raiders, though confident of success, were no less exercised. They threw out pickets to all the

approaches to their headquarters, and provided otherwise against surprise. They had smuggled in some

canteens of a cheap, vile whisky made from sorghumand they grew quite hilarious in their Big Tent over

their potations. Two songs had long ago been accepted by us as peculiarly the Raiders' ownas some one in

their crowd sang them nearly every evening, and we never heard them anywhere else. The first began:

In Athol lived a man named Jerry Lanagan; He battered away till he hadn't a pound. His father he died, and

The other related the exploits of an Irish highwayman named Brennan, whose chief virtue was that

And this was the villainous chorus in which they all joined, and sang in such a way as suggested highway

Brennan on the moor! Brennan on the moor! Proud and undaunted stood John Brennan on the moor.

They howled these two yearly the livelong night. They became eventually quite monotonous to us, who

were waiting and watching. It would have been quite a relief if they had thrown in a new one every hour or

Morning at last came. Our companies mustered on their grounds, and then marched to the space on the South

Side where the rations were issued. Each man was armed with a small club, secured to his wrist by a string.

The Rebelswith their chronic fear of an outbreak animating themhad all the infantry in line of battle

with loaded guns. The cannon in the works were shotted, the fuses thrust into the touchholes and the men

The sun rose rapidly through the clear sky, which soon glowed down on us like a brazen oven. The whole

camp gathered where it could best view the encounter. This was upon the North Side. As I have before

explained the two sides sloped toward each other like those of a great trough. The Raiders' headquarters stood

upon the center of the southern slope, and consequently those standing on the northern slope saw everything

While standing in ranks waiting the orders to move, one of my comrades touched me on the arm, and said:

I turned from watching the Rebel artillerists, whose intentions gave me more uneasiness than anything else,

and looked in the direction indicated by the speaker. The sight was the strangest one my eyes ever

encountered. There were at least fifteen thousand perhaps twenty thousandmen packed together on the

bank, and every eye was turned on us. The slope was such that each man's face showed over the shoulders of

the one in front of him, making acres on acres of faces. It was as if the whole broad hillside was paved or

When all was ready we moved down upon the Big Tent, in as good order as we could preserve while passing

through the narrow tortuous paths between the tents. Key, Limber Jim, Ned Carigan, Goody, Tom Larkin,

and Ned Johnson led the advance with their companies. The prison was as silent as a graveyard. As we

approached, the Raiders massed themselves in a strong, heavy line, with the center, against which our

advance was moving, held by the most redoubtable of their leaders. How many there were of them could not

be told, as it was impossible to say where their line ended and the mass of spectators began. They could not

themselves tell, as the attitude of a large portion of the spectators would be determined by which way the

Not a blow was struck until the lines came close together. Then the Raider center launched itself forward

against ours, and grappled savagely with the leading Regulators. For an instantit seemed an hourthe

Strong, fierce men clenched and strove to throttle each other; great muscles strained almost to bursting, and

blows with fist and clubdealt with all the energy of mortal hatefell like hail. Oneperhaps two endless

minutes the lines surgedthrobbedbackward and forward a step or two, and then, as if by a concentration

of mighty effort, our men flung the Raider line back from itbrokenshattered. The next instant our

leaders were striding through the mass like raging lions. Carrigan, Limber Jim, Larkin, Johnson and Goody

We light weights had been sent around on the flanks to separate the spectators from the combatants, strike the

Raiders 'en revers,' and, as far as possible, keep the crowd from reinforcing them.

In five minutes after the first blowwas struck the overthrow of the Raiders was complete. Resistance

As the result became apparent to thewatchers on the opposite hillside, they vented their pentup

excitement in a yell that made the very ground tremble, and we answered them with a shout that expressed

not only our exultation over our victory, but our great relief from the intense strain we had long borne.

We picked up a few prisoners on the battle field, and retired without making any special effort to get any

We were very tired, and very hungry. The time for drawing rations had arrived. Wagons containing bread and

mush had driven to the gates, but Wirz would not allow these to be opened, lest in the excited condition of

the men an attempt might be made to carry them. Key ordered operations to cease, that Wirz might be

reassured and let the rations enter. It was in vain. Wirz was thoroughly scared. The wagons stood out in the

hot sun until the mush fermented and soured, and had to be thrown away, while we event rationless to bed,

and rose the next day with more than usually empty stomachs to goad us on to our work.

I may not have made it wholly clear to the reader why we did not have the active assistance of the whole

prison in the struggle with the Raiders. There were many reasons for this. First, the great bulk of the prisoners

were new comers, having been, at the farthest, but three or four weeks in the Stockade. They did not

comprehend the situation of affairs as we older prisoners did. They did not understand that all the

outragesor very nearly allwere the work ofa relatively small crowd of graduates from the

metropolitan school of vice. The activity and audacity of the Raiders gave them the impression that at least

half the ablebodied men in the Stockade were engaged in these depredations. This is always the case. A half

dozen burglars or other active criminals in a town will produce the impression that a large portion of the

population are law breakers. We never estimated that the raiding N'Yaarkers, with their spies and other

accomplices, exceeded five hundred, but it would have been difficult to convince a new prisoner that there

were not thousands of them. Secondly, the prisoners were made up of small squads from every regiment at

the front along the whole line from the Mississippi to the Atlantic. These were strangers to and distrustful of

all out side their own little circles. The Eastern men were especially so. The Pennsylvanians and New

Yorkers each formed groups, and did not fraternize readily with those outside their State lines. The New

Jerseyans held aloof from all the rest, while the Massachusetts soldiers had very little in Common with

anybodyeven their fellow New Englanders. The Michigan men were modified New Englanders. They had

the same tricks of speech; they said "I be" for "I am," and "haag" for "hog;" "Let me look at your knife half a

second," or "Give me just a sup of that water," where we said simply "Lend me your knife," or "hand me a

drink." They were less reserved than the true Yankees, more disposed to be social, and, with all their

eccentricities, were as manly, honorable a set of fellows as it was my fortune to meet with in the army. I

could ask no better comrades than the boys of the Third Michigan Infantry, who belonged to the same

"Ninety" with me. The boys from Minnesota and Wisconsin were very much like those from Michigan.

Those from Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa and Kansas all seemed cut off the same piece. To all intents and

purposes they might have come from the same County. They spoke the same dialect, read the same

newspapers, had studied McGuffey's Readers, Mitchell's Geography, and Ray's Arithmetics at school,

admired the same great men, and held generally the same opinions on any given subject. It was never difficult

to get them to act in unisonthey did it spontaneously; while it required an effort to bring about harmony of

action with those from other sections. Had the Western boys in prison been thoroughly advised of the nature

of our enterprise, we could, doubtless, have commanded their cordial assistance, but they were not, and there

was no way in which it could be done readily, until after the decisive blow was struck.

The work of arresting the leading Raiders went on actively all day on the Fourth of July. They made

occasional shows of fierce resistance, but the events of the day before had destroyed their prestige, broken

their confidence, and driven away from their, support very many who followed their lead when they were

considered allpowerful. They scattered from their, former haunts, and mingled with the crowds in other

parts of the prison, but were recognized, and reported to Key, who sent parties to arrest them. Several times

they managed to collect enough adherents to drive off the squads sent after them, but this only gave them a

short respite, for the squad would return reinforced, and make short work of them. Besides, the prisoners

generally were beginning to understand and approve of the Regulators' movement, and were disposed to give

Myself and "Egypt," my taciturn Lieutenant of the sinewy left arm, were sent with our company to arrest Pete

Donnelly, a notorious character, and leader of, a bad crowd. He was more "knocker" than Raider, however.

He was an old Pemberton building acquaintance, and as we marched up to where he was standing at the head

"Hello, Illinoy," (the name by which I was generally known in prison) "what do you want here?"

"But I haven't had anything to do with them other snoozers you have been ahaving trouble with."

"I don't know anything about that; you can talk to Key as to that. I only know that we are sent for you."

"Well, you don't think you can take me unless I choose to go? You haint got anybody in that crowd big

I replied diffidently that one never knew whathe could do till he tried; that while none of us were very big,

we were as willing a lot of little fellows as he ever saw, and if it were all the same to him, we would

The conversation seemed unnecessarily long to "Egypt," who stood by my side; about a half step in advance.

Pete was becoming angrier and more defiant every minute. His followers were crowding up to us, club in

This was " Egypt's" cue. His long left arm uncoupled like the loosening of the weight of a piledriver. It

caught Mr. Donnelly under the chin, fairly lifted him from his feet, and dropped him on his back among his

followers. It seemed to me that the predominating expression in his face as he went, over was that of

profound wonder as to where that blow could have come from, and why he did not see it in time to dodge or

As Pete dropped, the rest of us stepped forward with our clubs, to engage his followers, while "Egypt" and

one or two others tied his hands and otherwise secured him. But his henchmen made no effort to rescue him,

The work of arresting increased in interest and excitement until it developed into the furore of a hunt, with

thousands eagerly engaged in it. The Raiders' tents were torn down and pillaged. Blankets, tent poles, and

cooking utensils were carried off as spoils, and the ground was dug over for secreted property. A large

quantity of watches, chains, knives, rings, gold pens, etc., etc.the booty of many a raidwas found, and

helped to give impetus to the hunt. Even the Rebel Quartermaster, with the characteristic keen scent of the

Rebels for spoils, smelled from the outside the opportunity for gaining plunder, and came in with a squad of

Rebels equipped with spades, to dig for buried treasures. How successful he was I know not, as I took no part

It was claimed that several skeletons of victims of the Raiders were found buried beneath the tent. I cannot

speak with any certainty as to this, though my impression is that at least one was found.

By evening Key had perhaps one hundred and twentyfive of the most noted Raiders in his hands. Wirz had

allowed him the use of the small stockade forming the entrance to the North Gate to confine them in.

The next thing was the judgment and punishment of the arrested ones. For this purpose Key organized a court

martial composed of thirteen Sergeants, chosen from the, latest arrivals of prisoners, that they might have no

prejudice against the Raiders. I believe that a man named Dick McCullough, belonging to the Third Missouri

Cavalry, was the President of the Court. The trial was carefully conducted, with all the formality of a legal

procedure that the Court and those managing the matter could remember as applicable to the crimes with

which the accused were charged. Each of these confronted by the witnesses who testified against him, and

allowed to crossexamine them to any extent he desired. The defense was managed by one of their crowd,

the foultongued Tombs shyster, Pete Bradley, of whom I have before spoken. Such was the fear of the

vengeance of the Raiders and their friends that many who had been badly abused dared not testify against

them, dreading midnight assassination if they did. Others would not go before the Court except at night. But

for all this there was no lack of evidence; there were thousands who had been robbed and maltreated, or who

had seen these outrages committed on others, and the boldness of the leaders in their bight of power rendered

The trial lasted several days, and concluded with sentencing quite a large number to run the gauntlet, a

John Sarsfield, One Hundred and FortyFourth New York. William Collins, alias "Mosby," Company D,

EightyEighth Pennsylvania, Charles Curtis, Company A, Fifth Rhode Island Artillery. Patrick Delaney,

Company E, EightyThird Pennsylvania. A. Muir, United States Navy. Terence Sullivan, SeventySecond

These names and regiments are of little consequence, however, as I believe all the rascals were professional

bountyjumpers, and did not belong to any regiment longer than they could find an opportunity to desert and

Those sentenced to ballandchain were brought in immediately, and had the irons fitted to them that had

It was not yet determined how punishment should be meted out to the remainder, but circumstances

themselves decided the matter. Wirz became tired of guarding so large a number as Key had arrested, and he

informed Key that he should turn them back into the Stockade immediately. Key begged for little farther time

to consider the disposition of the cases, but Wirz refused it, and ordered the Officer of the Guard to return all

arrested, save those sentenced to death, to the Stockade. In the meantime the news had spread through the

prison that the Raiders were to be sent in again unpunished, and an angry mob, numbering some thousands,

and mostly composed of men who had suffered injuries at the hands of the marauders, gathered at the South

Gate, clubs in hand, to get such satisfaction as they could out of the rascals. They formed in two long, parallel

lines, facing inward, and grimly awaited the incoming of the objects of their vengeance.

The Officer of the Guard opened the wicket in the gate, and began forcing the Raiders through itone at a

timeat the point of the bayonet, and each as he entered was told what he already realized wellthat he

must run for his life. They did this with all the energy that they possessed, and as they ran blows rained on

their heads, arms and backs. If they could succeed in breaking through the line at any place they were

generally let go without any further punishment. Three of the number were beaten to death. I saw one of these

killed. I had no liking for the gauntlet performance, and refused to have anything to do with it, as did most, if

not all, of my crowd. While the gauntlet was in operation, I was standing by my tent at the head of a little

street, about two hundred feet from the line, watching what was being done. A sailor was let in. He had a

large bowie knife concealed about his person somewhere, which he drew, and struck savagely with at his

tormentors on either side. They fell back from before him, but closed in behind and pounded him terribly. He

broke through the line, and ran up the street towards me. About midway of the distance stood a boy who had

helped carry a dead man out during the day, and while out had secured a large pine rail which he had brought

in with him. He was holding this straight up in the air, as if at a "present arms." He seemed to have known

from the first that the Raider would run that way. Just as he came squarely under it, the boy dropped the rail

like the bar of a toll gate. It struck the Raider across the head, felled him as if by a shot, and his pursuers then

It began to be pretty generally understood through the prison that six men had been sentenced to be hanged,

though no authoritative announcement of the fact had been made. There was much canvassing as to where

they should be executed, and whether an attempt to hang them inside of the Stockade would not rouse their

friends to make a desperate effort to rescue them, which would precipitate a general engagement of even

larger proportions than that of the 3d. Despite the result of the affairs of that and the succeeding days, the

camp was not yet convinced that the Raiders were really conquered, and the Regulators themselves were not

thoroughly at ease on that score. Some five thousand or six thousand new prisoners had come in since the

first of the month, and it was claimed that the Raiders had received large reinforcements from those,a

claim rendered probable by most of the newcomers being from the Army of the Potomac.

Key and those immediately about him kept their own counsel in the matter, and suffered no secret of their

intentions to leak out, until on the morning of the 11th, when it became generally known that the sentences

My first direct information as to this was by a messenger from Key with an order to assemble my company

and stand guard over the carpenters who were to erect the scaffold. He informed me that all the Regulators

would be held in readiness to come to our relief if we were attacked in force. I had hoped that if the men were

to be hanged I would be spared the unpleasant duty of assisting, for, though I believed they richly deserved

that punishment, I had much rather some one else administered it upon them. There was no way out of it,

however, that I could see, and so "Egypt" and I got the boys together, and marched down to the designated

place, which was an open space near the end of the street running from the South Gate, and kept vacant for

the purpose of issuing rations. It was quite near the spot where the Raiders' Big Tent had stood, and afforded

Key had secured the loan of a few beams and rough planks, sufficient to build a rude scaffold with. Our first

duty was to care for these as they came in, for such was the need of wood, and plank for tent purposes, that

they would scarcely have fallen to the ground before they were spirited away, had we not stood over them all

The carpenters sent by Key came over and set to work. The N'Yaarkers gathered around in considerable

numbers, sullen and abusive. They cursed us with all their rich vocabulary of foul epithets, vowed that we

should never carry out the execution, and swore that they had marked each one for vengeance. We returned

the compliments in kind, and occasionally it seemed as if a general collision was imminent; but we succeeded

in avoiding this, and by noon the scaffold was finished. It was a very simple affair. A stout beam was

fastened on the top of two posts, about fifteen feet high. At about the height of a man's head a couple of

boards stretched across the space between the posts, and met in the center. The ends at the posts laid on

cleats; the ends in the center rested upon a couple of boards, standing upright, and each having a piece of rope

fastened through a hole in it in such a manner, that a man could snatch it from under the planks serving as the

floor of the scaffold, and let the whole thing drop. A rude ladder to ascend by completed the preparations.

As the arrangements neared completion the excitement in and around the prison grew intense. Key came over

with the balance of the Regulators, and we formed a hollow square around the scaffold, our company

marking the line on the East Side. There were now thirty thousand in the prison. Of these about onethird

packed themselves as tightly about our square as they could stand. The remaining twenty thousand were

wedged together in a solid mass on the North Side. Again I contemplated the wonderful, startling, spectacle

Outside, the Rebel, infantry was standing in the rifle pits, the artillerymen were in place about their loaded

and trained pieces, the No. 4 of each gun holding the lanyard cord in his hand, ready to fire the piece at the

instant of command. The small squad of cavalry was drawn up on the hill near the Star Fort, and near it were

All the hangerson of the Rebel campclerks, teamsters, employer, negros, hundreds of white and colored

women, in all forming a motley crowd of between one and two thousand, were gathered together in a group

between the end of the rifle pits and the Star Fort. They had a good view from there, but a still better one

could be had, a little farther to the right, and in front of the guns. They kept edging up in that direction, as

crowds will, though they knew the danger they would incur if the artillery opened.

The day was broiling hot. The sun shot his perpendicular rays down with blistering fierceness, and the

Key took up his position inside the square to direct matters. With him were Limber Jim, Dick McCullough,

and one or two others. Also, Ned Johnson, Tom Larkin, Sergeant Goody, and three others who were to act as

hangmen. Each of these six was provided with a white sack, such as the Rebels brought in meal in. Two

Corporals of my company"Stag" Harris and Wat Paynewere appointed to pull the stays from under the

A little after noon the South Gate opened, and Wirz rode in, dressed in a suit of white duck, and mounted on

his white horsea conjunction which had gained for him the appellation of "Death on a Pale Horse." Behind

him walked the faithful old priest, wearing his Church's purple insignia of the deepest sorrow, and reading the

service for the condemned. The six doomed men followed, walking between double ranks of Rebel guards.

"Brizners, I return to you dose men so Boot as I got dem. You haf tried dem yourselves, and found dem

guiltyI haf had notting to do wit it. I vash my hands of eferyting connected wit dem. Do wit dem as you

like, and may Gott haf mercy on you and on dem. Garts, about face! Voryvarts, march!"

For a moment the condemned looked stunned. They seemed to comprehend for the first time that it was really

the determination of the Regulators to hang them. Before that they had evidently thought that the talk of

At this they burst out in a passionate storm of intercessions and imprecations, which lasted for a minute or so,

At this the priest closed the book upon which he had kept his eyes bent since his entrance, and facing the

The condemned faced in the, same direction, to read their fate in the countenances of those whom he was

addressing. This movement brought Curtisa lowstatured, massively built manon the right of their line,

The whole camp had been as still as death since Wirz's exit. The silence seemed to become even more

profound as the priest began his appeal. For a minute every ear was strained to catch what he said. Then, as

the nearest of the thousands comprehended what he was saying they raised a shout of "No! no!! NO!!" "Hang

This was taken up all over the prison, and tens of thousands throats yelled it in a fearful chorus.

Curtis turned from the crowd with desperation convulsing his features. Tearing off the broadbrimmed hat

"By God, I'll die this way first!" and, drawing his head down and folding his arms about it, he dashed forward

"Egypt" and I saw where he was going to strike, and ran down the line to help stop him. As he came up we

rained blows on his head with our clubs, but so many of us struck at him at once that we broke each other's

clubs to pieces, and only knocked him on his knees. He rose with an almost superhuman effort, and plunged

The excitement almost became delirium. For an instant I feared that everything was gone to ruin. "Egypt" and

I strained every energy to restore our lines, before the break could be taken advantage of by the others. Our

boys behaved splendidly, standing firm, and in a few seconds the line was restored.

As Curtis broke through, Delaney, a brawny Irishman standing next to him, started to follow. He took one

step. At the same instant Limber Jim's long legs took three great strides, and placed him directly in front of

Delaney. Jim's right hand held an enormous bowieknife, and as he raised it above Delaney he hissed out:

"If you dare move another step, you open you , I'll open you from one end to the other.

When Wirz saw the commotion he was panicstricken with fear that the longdreaded assault on the

Stockade had begun. He ran down from the headquarter steps to the Captain of the battery, shrieking:

The Captain, not being a fool, could see that the rush was not towards the Stockade, but away from it, and he

But the spectators who had gotten before the guns, heard Wirz's excited yell, and remembering the

consequences to themselves should the artillery be discharged, became frenzied with fear, and screamed, and

fell down over and trampled upon each other in endeavoring to get away. The guards on that side of the

Stockade ran down in a panic, and the ten thousand prisoners immediately around us, expecting no less than

that the next instant we would be swept with grape and canister, stampeded tumultuously. There were quite a

number of wells right around us, and all of these were filled full of men that fell into them as the crowd

rushed away. Many had legs and arms broken, and I have no doubt that several were killed.

While this was going on two of my company, belonging to the Fifth Iowa Cavalry, were in hot pursuit of

Curtis. I had seen them start and shouted to them to come back, as I feared they would be set upon by the

Raiders and murdered. But the din was so overpowering that they could not hear me, and doubtless would not

Curtis ran diagonally down the hill, jumping over the tents and knocking down the men who happened in his

way. Arriving at the swamp he plunged in, sinking nearly to his hips in the fetid, filthy ooze. He forged his

way through with terrible effort. His pursuers followed his example, and caught up to him just as he emerged

on the other side. They struck him on the back of the head with their clubs, and knocked him down.

By this time order had been restored about us. The guns remained silent, and the crowd massed around us

again. From where we were we could see the successful end of the chase after Curtis, and could see his

captors start back with him. Their success was announced with a roar of applause from the North Side. Both

captors and captured were greatly exhausted, and they were coming back very slowly. Key ordered the

balance up on to the scaffold. They obeyed promptly. The priest resumed his reading of the service for the

condemned. The excitement seemed to make the doomed ones exceedingly thirsty. I never saw men drink

such inordinate quantities of water. They called for it continually, gulped down a quart or more at a time, and

When Curtis finally arrived, he sat on the ground for a minute or so, to rest, and then, reeking with filth,

slowly and painfully climbed the steps. Delaney seemed to think he was suffering as much from fright as

Again the priest resumed his reading, but it had no interest to Delaney, who kept calling out directions to Pete

Donelly, who was standing in the crowd, as to dispositions to be made of certain bits of stolen property: to

give a watch to this one, a ring to another, and so on. Once the priest stopped and said:

"My son, let the things of this earth go, and turn your attention toward those of heaven."

Delaney paid no attention to this admonition. The whole six then began delivering farewell messages to those

"Well, good by, b'ys; if I've hurted any of y ez, I hope ye'll forgive me. Shpake up, now, any of yez that I've

We called upon Marion Friend, whose throat Delaney had tried to cut three weeks before while robbing him

of forty dollars, to come forward, but Friend was not in a forgiving mood, and refused with an oath.

"Time's up!" put the watch back in his pocket and raised his hand like an officer commanding a gun. Harris

and Payne laid hold of the ropes to the supports of the planks. Each of the six hangmen tied a condemned

man's hands, pulled a meal sack down over his head, placed the noose around his neck, drew it up tolerably

Key dropped his hand. Payne and Harris snatched the supports out with a single jerk. The planks fell with a

clatter. Five of the bodies swung around dizzily in the air. The sixth that of "Mosby," a large, powerful,

rawboned man, one of the worst in the lot, and who, among other crimes, had killed Limber Jim's

brotherbroke the rope, and fell with a thud to the ground. Some of the men ran forward, examined the body,

and decided that he still lived. The rope was cut off his neck, the meal sack removed, and water thrown in his

face until consciousness returned. At the first instant he thought he was in eternity. He gasped out:

Limber Jim muttered that they would soon show him where he was, and went on grimly fixing up the

scaffold anew. "Mosby" soon realized what had happened, and the unrelenting purpose of the Regulator

"O for God's sake, do not put me up there again! God has spared my life once. He meant that you should be

Limber Jim deigned him no reply. When the scaffold was rearranged, and a stout rope had replaced the

broken one, he pulled the meal sack once more over "Mosby's" head, who never ceased his pleadings. Then

picking up the large man as if he were a baby, he carried him to the scaffold and handed him up to Tom

Larkin, who fitted the noose around his neck and sprang down. The supports had not been set with the same

delicacy as at first, and Limber Jim had to set his heel and wrench desperately at them before he could force

After hanging till life was extinct, the bodies were cut down, the meal sacks pulled off their faces, and the

Regulators formal two parallel lines, through which all the prisoners passed and took a look at the bodies.

Pete Donnelly and Dick Allen knelt down and wiped the froth off Delaney's lips, and swore vengeance

After the executions Key, knowing that he, and all those prominently connected with the hanging, would be

in hourly danger of assassination if they remained inside, secured details as nurses and wardmasters in the

hospital, and went outside. In this crowd were Key, Ned Carrigan, Limber Jim, Dick McCullough, the six

hangmen, the two Corporals who pulled the props from under the scaffold, and perhaps some others whom I

In the meanwhile provision had been made for the future maintenance of order in the prison by the

organization of a regular police force, which in time came to number twelve hundred men. These were

divided into companies, under appropriate officers. Guards were detailed for certain locations, patrols passed

through the camp in all directions continually, and signals with whistles could summon sufficient assistance

The chieftainship was first held by Key, but when he went outside he appointed Sergeant A. R. Hill, of the

One Hundredth O. V. I. now a resident of Wauseon, Ohio,his successor. Hill was one of the notabilities

of that immense throng. A great, broadshouldered, giant, in the prime of his manhoodthe beginning of his

thirtieth yearhe was as goodnatured as big, and as mildmannered as brave. He spoke slowly, softly, and

with a slightly rustic twang, that was very tempting to a certain class of sharps to take him up for a "luberly

Hill first came into prominence as the victor in the most stubbornly contested fight in the prison history of

Belle Isle. When the squad of the One Hundredth Ohiocaptured at Limestone Station, East Tennessee, in

September,1863arrived on Belle Isle, a certain Jack Oliver, of the Nineteenth Indiana, was the undisputed

fistic monarch of the Island. He did not bear his blushing honors modestly; few of a right arm that indefinite

locality known as " the middle of next week," is something that the possessor can as little resist showing as

can a girl her first solitaire ring. To know that one can certainly strike a disagreeable fellow out of time is

pretty sure to breed a desire to do that thing whenever occasion serves. Jack Oliver was one who did not let

his biceps rust in inaction, but thrashed everybody on the Island whom he thought needed it, and his ideas as

to those who should be included in this class widened daily, until it began to appear that he would soon feel it

One day his evil genius led him to abuse a rather elderly man belonging to Hill's mess. As he fired off his

The grin on Hill's face looked still more verdant, as he answered with gentle deliberation:

Jack foamed, but his fiercest bluster could not drive that infantile smile from Hill's face, nor provoke a

It was evident that nothing would do but a battleroyal, and Jack had sense enough to see that the

imperturbable rustic was likely to give him a job of some difficulty. He went off and came back with his clan,

while Hill's comrades of the One Hundredth gathered around to insure him fair play. Jack pulled off his coat

and vest, rolled up his sleeves, and made other elaborate preparations for the affray. Hill, without removing a

"By , I'll make you partickeler before I get through with you. Now, how shall we settle this? Regular

If anything Hill's face was more vacantly serene, and his tones blander than ever, as he answered:

They closed. Hill feinted with his left, and as Jack uncovered to guard, he caught him fairly on the lower left

ribs, by a blow from his mighty right fist, that soundedas one of the bystanders expressed it"like

The color in Jack's face paled. He did not seem to understand how he had laid himself open to such a pass,

and made the same mistake, receiving again a sounding blow in the short ribs. This taught him nothing,

either, for again he opened his guard in response to a feint, and again caught a blow on his luckless left, ribs,

that drove the blood from his face and the breath from his body. He reeled back among his supporters for an

instant to breathe. Recovering his wind, be dashed at Hill feinted strongly with his right, but delivered a

terrible kick against the lower part of the latter's abdomen. Both closed and fought savagely at halfarm's

length for an instant; during which Hill struck Jack so fairly in the mouth as to break out three front teeth,

which the latter swallowed. Then they clenched and struggled to throw each other. Hill's superior strength

and skill crushed his opponent to the ground, and he fell upon him. As they grappled there, one of Jack's

followers sought to aid his leader by catching Hill by the hair, intending to kick him in the face. In an instant

he was knocked down by a stalwart member of the One Hundredth, and then literally lifted out of the ring by

Jack was soon so badly beaten as to be unable to cry "enough! "One of his friends did that service for him,

the fight ceased, and thenceforth Mr. Oliver resigned his pugilistic crown, and retired to the shades of private

The almost hourly scenes of violence and crime that marked the days and nights before the Regulators began

operations were now succeeded by the greatest order. The prison was freer from crime than the best governed

City. There were frequent squabbles and fights, of course, and many petty larcenies. Rations of bread and of

wood, articles of clothing, and the wretched little cans and half canteens that formed our cooking utensils,

were still stolen, but all these were in a sneakthief way. There was an entire absence of the audacious

openday robbery and murder the "raiding" of the previous few weeks. The summary punishment inflicted

on the condemned was sufficient to cow even bolder men than the Raiders, and they were frightened into at

Sergeant Hill's administration was vigorous, and secured the best results. He became a judge of all infractions

of morals and law, and sat at the door of his tent to dispense justice to all comers, like the Cadi of a

Mahometan Village. His judicial methods and punishments also reminded one strongly of the primitive

judicature of Oriental lands. The wronged one came before him and told his tale: he had his blouse, or his

quart cup, or his shoes, or his watch, or his money stolen during the night. The suspected one was also

summoned, confronted with his accuser, and sharply interrogated. Hill would revolve the stories in his mind,

decide the innocence or guilt of the accused, and if he thought the accusation sustained, order the culprit to

punishment. He did not imitate his Mussulman prototypes to the extent of bowstringing or decapitating the

condemned, nor did he cut any thief's hands off, nor yet nail his ears to a doorpost, but he introduced a

modification of the bastinado that made those who were punished by it even wish they were dead. The

instrument used was what is called in the South a "shake" a split shingle, a yard or more long, and with

one end whittled down to form a handle. The culprit was made to bend down until he could catch around his

ankles with his hands. The part of the body thus brought into most prominence was denuded of clothing and

"spanked" from one to twenty times, as Hill ordered, by the "shake" in same strong and willing hand. It was

very amusingto the bystanders. The "spankee" never seemed to enter very heartily into the mirth of the

occasion. As a rule he slept on his face for a week or so after, and took his meals standing.

The fear of the spanking, and Hill's skill in detecting the guilty ones, had a very salutary effect upon the

The Raiders who had been put into irons were very restive under the infliction, and begged Hill daily to

release them. They professed the greatest penitence, and promised the most exemplary behavior for the

future. Hill refused to release them, declaring that they should wear the irons until delivered up to our

One of the Raidersnamed Heffronhad, shortly after his arrest, turned State's evidence, and given

testimony that assisted materially in the conviction of his companions. One morning, a week or so after the

hanging, his body was found lying among the other dead at the South Gate. The impression made by the

fingers of the hand that had strangled him, were still plainly visible about the throat. There was no doubt as to

why he had been killed, or that the Raiders were his murderers, but the actual perpetrators were never

All during July the prisoners came streaming in by hundreds and thousands from every portion of the long

line of battle, stretching from the Eastern bank of the Mississippi to the shores of the Atlantic. Over one

thousand squandered by Sturgis at Guntown came in; two thousand of those captured in the desperate blow

dealt by Hood against the Army of the Tennessee on the 22d of the month before Atlanta; hundreds from

Hunter's luckless column in the Shenandoah Valley, thousands from Grant's lines in front of Petersburg. In

all, seven thousand one hundred and twentyeight were, during the month, turned into that seething mass of

corrupting humanity to be polluted and tainted by it, and to assist in turn to make it fouler and deadlier. Over

seventy hecatombs of chosen victims of fair youths in the first flush of hopeful manhood, at the threshold

of a life of honor to themselves and of usefulness to the community; beardless boys, rich in the priceless

affections of homes, fathers, mothers, sisters and sweethearts, with minds thrilling with high aspirations for

the bright future, were sent in as the monthly sacrifice to this Minotaur of the Rebellion, who, couched in his

foul lair, slew them, not with the merciful delivery of speedy death, as his Cretan prototype did the annual

tribute of Athenian youths and maidens, but, gloating over his prey, doomed them to lingering destruction.

He rotted their flesh with the scurvy, racked their minds with intolerable suspense, burned their bodies with

the slow fire of famine, and delighted in each separate pang, until they sank beneath the fearful accumulation.

Theseus [Sherman. D.W.]the delivererwas coming. His terrible sword could be seen gleaming as it rose

and fell on the banks of the James, and in the mountains beyond Atlanta, where he was hewing his way

towards them and the heart of the Southern Confederacy. But he came too late to save them. Strike as swiftly

and as heavily as he would, he could not strike so hard nor so sure at his foes with saber blow and musket

shot, as they could at the hapless youths with the dreadful armament of starvation and disease.

Though the deaths were one thousand eight hundred and seventeen more than were killed at the battle of

Shilohthis left the number in the prison at the end of the month thirtyone thousand six hundred and

seventy eight. Let me assist the reader's comprehension of the magnitude of this number by giving the

Cambridge, Mass 89,639 Charleston, S. C. 48,958 Columbus, O. 31,274 Dayton, O. 30,473 Fall River, Mass

The number of prisoners exceeded the whole number of men between the ages of eighteen and fortyfive in

several of the States and Territories in the Union. Here, for instance, are the returns for 1870, of men of

Arizona 5,157 Colorado 15,166 Dakota 5,301 Idaho 9,431 Montana 12,418 Nebraska 35,677 Nevada 24,762

New Hampshire 60,684 Oregon 23,959 Rhode Island 44,377 Vermont 62,450 West Virginia 6,832

It was more soldiers than could be raised today, under strong pressure, in either Alabama, Arizona,

Arkansas, California, Colorado, Connecticut, Dakota, Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Idaho,

Louisiana, Maine, Minnesota, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New Hampshire, New Medico, Oregon, Rhode

These thirtyone thousand six hundred and seventyeight active young men, who were likely to find the

confines of a State too narrow for them, were cooped up on thirteen acres of groundless than a farmer

gives for play ground for a half dozen colts or a small flock of sheep. There was hardly room for all to lie

down at night, and to walk a few hundred feet in any direction would require an hour's patient threading of

The weather became hotter and hotter; at midday the sand would burn the hand. The thin skins of fair and

auburnhaired men blistered under the sun's rays, and swelled up in great watery puffs, which soon became

the breeding grounds of the hideous maggots, or the still more deadly gangrene. The loathsome swamp grew

in rank offensiveness with every burning hour. The pestilence literally stalked at noonday, and struck his

victims down on every hand. One could not look a rod in any direction without seeing at least a dozen men in

Let me describe the scene immediately around my own tent during the last two weeks of July, as a sample of

the condition of the whole prison: I will take a space not larger than a good sized parlor or sitting room. On

this were at least fifty of us. Directly in front of me lay two brothersnamed Sherwoodbelonging to

Company I, of my battalion, who came originally from Missouri. They were now in the last stages of scurvy

and diarrhea. Every particle of muscle and fat about their limbs and bodies had apparently wasted away,

leaving the skin clinging close to the bone of the face, arms, hands, ribs and thighseverywhere except the

feet and legs, where it was swollen tense and transparent, distended with gallons of purulent matter. Their

livid gums, from which most of their teeth had already fallen, protruded far beyond their lips. To their left lay

a Sergeant and two others of their company, all three slowly dying from diarrhea, and beyond was a

fairhaired German, young and intelligent looking, whose life was ebbing tediously away. To my right was a

handsome young Sergeant of an Illinois Infantry Regiment, captured at Kenesaw. His left arm had been

amputated between the shoulder and elbow, and he was turned into the Stockade with the stump all

undressed, save the ligating of the arteries. Of course, he had not been inside an hour until the maggot flies

had laid eggs in the open wound, and before the day was gone the worms were hatched out, and rioting amid

the inflamed and supersensitive nerves, where their every motion was agony. Accustomed as we were to

misery, we found a still lower depth in his misfortune, and I would be happier could I forget his pale, drawn

face, as he wandered uncomplainingly to and fro, holding his maimed limb with his right hand, occasionally

stopping to squeeze it, as one does a boil, and press from it a stream of maggots and pus. I do not think he ate

or slept for a week before he died. Next to him staid an Irish Sergeant of a New York Regiment, a fine

soldierly man, who, with pardonable pride, wore, conspicuously on his left breast, a medal gained by

gallantry while a British soldier in the Crimea. He was wasting away with diarrhea, and died before the

This was what one could see on every square rod of the prison. Where I was was not only no worse than the

rest of the prison, but was probably much better and healthier, as it was the highest ground inside, farthest

from the Swamp, and having the dead line on two sides, had a ventilation that those nearer the center could

not possibly have. Yet, with all these conditions in our favor, the mortality was as I have described.

Near us an exasperating idiot, who played the flute, had established himself. Like all poor players, he affected

the low, mournful notes, as plaintive as the distant cooing of the dove in lowering, weather. He played or

rather tooted away in his "blues"inducing strain hour after hour, despite our energetic protests, and

occasionally flinging a club at him. There was no more stop to him than to a man with a handorgan, and to

this day the low, sad notes of a flute are the swiftest reminder to me of those sorrowful, deathladen days.

I had an illustration one morning of how far decomposition would progress in a man's body before he died.

My chum and I found a treasuretrove in the streets, in the shape of the body of a man who died during the

night. The value of this "find" was that if we took it to the gate, we would be allowed to carry it outside to the

deadhouse, and on our way back have an opportunity to pick up a chunk of wood, to use in cooking. While

discussing our good luck another party came up and claimed the body. A verbal dispute led to one of blows,

in which we came off victorious, and I hastily caught hold of the arm near the elbow to help bear the body

away. The skin gave way under my hand, and slipped with it down to the wrist, like a torn sleeve. It was

sickening, but I clung to my prize, and secured a very good chunk of wood while outside with it. The wood

was very much needed by my mess, as our squad had then had none for more than a week.

Naturally, we had a consuming hunger for news of what was being accomplished by our armies toward

crushing the Rebellion. Now, more than ever, had we reason to ardently wish for the destruction of the Rebel

power. Before capture we had love of country and a natural desire for the triumph of her flag to animate us.

Now we had a hatred of the Rebels that passed expression, and a fierce longing to see those who daily

The daily arrival of prisoners kept us tolerably well informed as to the general progress of the campaign, and

we added to the information thus obtained by gettingalmost dailyin some manner or anothera copy of

"MemphisCorinthJacksonGrenadaChattanoogaResaccaMariettaAtlanta Appeal," as they used to

facetiously term a Memphis paper that left that City when it was taken in 1862, and for two years fell back

from place to place, as Sherman's Army advanced, until at last it gave up the struggle in September, 1864, in

a little Town south of Atlanta, after about two thousand miles of weary retreat from an indefatigable pursuer.

The papers were brought in by "fresh fish," purchased from the guards at from fifty cents to one dollar apiece,

or occasionally thrown in to us when they had some specially disagreeable intelligence, like the defeat of

Banks, or Sturgis, or Bunter, to exult over. I was particularly fortunate in getting hold of these. Becoming

installed as general reader for a neighborhood of several thousand men, everything of this kind was

immediately brought to me, to be read aloud for the benefit of everybody. All the older prisoners knew me by

the nickname of "Illinoy" a designation arising from my wearing on my cap, when I entered prison, a

neat little white metal badge of "ILLS." When any reading matter was brought into our neighborhood, there

"Take it up to 'Illinoy,'" and then hundreds would mass around my quarters to bear the news read.

The Rebel papers usually had very meager reports of the operations of the armies, and these were greatly

distorted, but they were still very interesting, and as we always started in to read with the expectation that the

whole statement was a mass of perversions and lies, where truth was an infrequent accident, we were not

There was a marled difference in the tone of the reports brought in from the different armies. Sherman's men

were always sanguine. They had no doubt that they were pushing the enemy straight to the wall, and that

every day brought the Southern Confederacy much nearer its downfall. Those from the Army of the Potomac

were never so hopeful. They would admit that Grant was pounding Lee terribly, but the shadow of the

frequent defeats of the Army of the Potomac seemed to hang depressingly over them.

There came a day, however, when our sanguine hopes as to Sherman were checked by a possibility that he

had failed; that his long campaign towards Atlanta had culminated in such a reverse under the very walls of

the City as would compel an abandonment of the enterprise, and possibly a humiliating retreat. We knew that

Jeff. Davis and his Government were strongly dissatisfied with the Fabian policy of Joe Johnston. The papers

had told us of the Rebel President's visit to Atlanta, of his bitter comments on Johnston's tactics; of his going

so far as to sneer about the necessity of providing pontoons at Key West, so that Johnston might continue his

retreat even to Cuba. Then came the news of Johnston's Supersession by Hood, and the papers were full of

the exulting predictions of what would now be accomplished "when that gallant young soldier is once fairly

All this meant one supreme effort to arrest the onward course of Sherman. It indicated a resolve to stake the

fate of Atlanta, and the fortunes of the Confederacy in the West, upon the hazard of one desperate fight. We

watched the summoning up of every Rebel energy for the blow with apprehension. We dreaded another

The blow fell on the 22d of July. It was well planned. The Army of the Tennessee, the left of Sherman's

forces, was the part struck. On the night of the 21st Hood marched a heavy force around its left flank and

gained its rear. On the 22d this force fell on the rear with the impetuous violence of a cyclone, while the

It was an ordeal that no other army ever passed through successfully. The steadiest troops in Europe would

think it foolhardiness to attempt to withstand an assault in force in front and rear at the same time. The finest

legions that follow any flag today must almost inevitably succumb to such a mode of attack. But the

seasoned veterans of the Army of the Tennessee encountered the shock with an obstinacy which showed that

the finest material for soldiery this planet holds was that in which undaunted hearts beat beneath blue blouses.

Springing over the front of their breastworks, they drove back with a withering fire the force assailing them in

the rear. This beaten off, they jumped back to their proper places, and repulsed the assault in front. This was

the way the battle was waged until night compelled a cessation of operations. Our boys were alternately

behind the breastworks firing at Rebels advancing upon the front, and in front of the works firing upon those

coming up in the rear. Sometimes part of our line would be on one side of the works, and part on the other.

In the prison we were greatly excited over the result of the engagement, of which we were uncertain for many

days. A host of new prisoners perhaps two thousandwas brought in from there, but as they were captured

during the progress of the fight, they could not speak definitely as to its issue. The Rebel papers exulted

without stint over what they termed "a glorious victory." They were particularly jubilant over the death of

McPherson, who, they claimed, was the brain and guiding hand of Sherman's army. One paper likened him to

the pilotfish, which guides the shark to his prey. Now that he was gone, said the paper, Sherman's army

becomes a great lumbering hulk, with no one in it capable of directing it, and it must soon fall to utter ruin

We also knew that great numbers of wounded had been brought to the prison hospital, and this seemed to

confirm the Rebel claim of a victory, as it showed they retained possession of the battle field.

About the 1st of August a large squad of Sherman's men, captured in one of the engagements subsequent to

the 22d, came in. We gathered around them eagerly. Among them I noticed a bright, curlyhaired, blueeyed

infantrymanor boy, rather, as he was yet beardless. His cap was marked "68th O. Y. Y. L," his sleeves

were garnished with reenlistment stripes, and on the breast of his blouse was a silver arrow. To the eye of

the soldier this said that he was a veteran member of the SixtyEighth Regiment of Ohio Infantry (that is,

having already served three years, he had reenlisted for the war), and that he belonged to the Third Division

of the Seventeenth Army Corps. He was so young and fresh looking that one could hardly believe him to be a

veteran, but if his stripes had not said this, the soldierly arrangement of clothing and accouterments, and the

graceful, selfpossessed pose of limbs and body would have told the observer that he was one of those "Old

Reliables" with whom Sherman and Grant had already subdued a third of the Confederacy. His blanket,

which, for a wonder, the Rebels had neglected to take from him, was tightly rolled, its ends tied together, and

thrown over his shoulder scarffashion. His pantaloons were tucked inside his stocking tops, that were pulled

up as far as possible, and tied tightly around his ankle with a string. A nonetooclean haversack, containing

the inevitable sooty quart cup, and even blacker halfcanteen, waft slung easily from the shoulder opposite to

that on which the blanket rested. Hand him his faithful Springfield rifle, put three days' rations in his

haversack, and forty rounds in his cartridge bog, and he would be ready, without an instant's demur or

question, to march to the ends of the earth, and fight anything that crossed his path. He was a type of the

honest, honorable, self respecting American boy, who, as a soldier, the world has not equaled in the sixty

centuries that war has been a profession. I suggested to him that he was rather a youngster to be wearing

veteran chevrons. "Yes," said he, "I am not so old as some of the rest of the boys, but I have seen about as

much service and been in the business about as long as any of them. They call me 'Old Dad,' I suppose

because I was the youngest boy in the Regiment, when we first entered the service, though our whole

Company, officers and all, were only a lot of boys, and the Regiment to day, what's left of 'em, are about as

young a lot of officers and men as there are in the service. Why, our old Colonel ain't only twentyfour years

old now, and he has been in command ever since we went into Vicksburg. I have heard it said by our boys

that since we veteranized the whole Regiment, officers, and men, average less than twentyfour years old.

But they are grayhounds to march and stayers in a fight, you bet. Why, the rest of the troops over in West

Tennessee used to call our Brigade 'Leggett's Cavalry,' for they always had us chasing Old Forrest, and we

kept him skedaddling, too, pretty lively. But I tell you we did get into a red hot scrimmage on the 22d. It just

laid over Champion Hills, or any of the big fights around Vicksburg, and they were lively enough to amuse

"So you were in the affair on the 22d, were you! We are awful anxious to hear all about it. Come over here to

my quarters and tell us all you know. All we know is that there has been a big fight, with McPherson killed,

"O, they be . It was the sickest victory they ever got. About one more victory of that kind would make

their infernal old Confederacy ready for a coroner's inquest. Well, I can tell you pretty much all about that

fight, for I reckon if the truth was known, our regiment fired about the first and last shot that opened and

closed the fighting on that day. Well, you see the whole Army got across the river, and were closing in

around the City of Atlanta. Our Corps, the Seventeenth, was the extreme left of the army, and were moving

up toward the City from the East. The Fifteenth (Logan's) Corps joined us on the right, then the Army of the

Cumberland further to the right. We run onto the Rebs about sundown the 21st. They had some breastworks

on a ridge in front of us, and we had a pretty sharp fight before we drove them off. We went right to work,

and kept at it all night in changing and strengthening the old Rebel barricades, fronting them towards Atlanta,

and by morning had some good solid works along our whole line. During the night we fancied we could hear

wagons or artillery moving away in front of us, apparently going South, or towards our left. About three or

four o'clock in the morning, while I was shoveling dirt like a beaver out on the works, the Lieutenant came to

me and said the Colonel wanted to see me, pointing to a large tree in the rear, where I could find him. I

reported and found him with General Leggett, who commanded our Division, talking mighty serious, and

Bob Wheeler, of F Company, standing there with his Springfield at a parade rest. As soon as I came up, the

"Boys, the General wants two levelheaded chaps to go out beyond the pickets to the front and toward the

left. I have selected you for the duty. Go as quietly as possible and as fast as you can; keep your eyes and ears

open; don't fire a shot if you can help it, and come back and tell us exactly what you have seen and heard, and

"He gave us the countersign, and off we started over the breastworks and through the thick woods. We soon

came to our skirmish or pickets, only a few rods in front of our works, and cautioned them not to fire on us in

going or returning. We went out as much as half a mile or more, until we could plainly hear the sound of

wagons and artillery. We then cautiously crept forward until we could see the main road leading south from

the City filled with marching men, artillery and teams. We could hear the commands of the officers and see

the flags and banners of regiment after regiment as they passed us. We got back quietly and quickly, passed

through our picket line all right, and found the General and our Colonel sitting on a log where we had left

them, waiting for us. We reported what we had seen and heard, and gave it as our opinion that the Johnnies

were evacuating Atlanta. The General shook his head, and the Colonel says: 'You may re turn to your

"'The old General shakes his head as though he thought them dd Rebs ain't evacuating Atlanta so mighty

sudden, but are up to some devilment again. I ain't sure but he's right. They ain't going to keep falling back

and falling back to all eternity, but are just agoin' to give us a riproaring great big fight one o' these

"Saying which we both went to our companies, and laid down to get a little sleep. It was about daylight then,

and I must have snoozed away until near noon, when I heard the order 'fall in!' and found the regiment getting

into line, and the boys all tallying about going right into Atlanta; that the Rebels had evacuated the City

during the night, and that we were going to have a race with the Fifteenth Corps as to which would get into

the City first. We could look away out across a large field in front of our works, and see the skirmish line

advancing steadily towards the main works around the City. Not a shot was being, fired on either side.

"To our surprise, instead of marching to the front and toward the City, we filed off into a small road cut

through the woods and marched rapidly to the rear. We could not understand what it meant. We marched at

quick time, feeling pretty mad that we had to go to the rear, when the rest of our Division were going into

"We passed the Sixteenth Corps lying on their arms, back in some open fields, and the wagon trains of our

Corps all comfortably corralled, and finally found ourselves out by the Seventeenth Corps headquarters. Two

or three companies were sent out to picket several roads that seemed to cross at that point, as it was reported

'Rebel Cavalry' had been seen on these roads but a short time before, and this accounted for our being rushed

"We had just stacked arms and were going to take a little rest after our rapid march, when several Rebel

prisoners were brought in by some of the boys who had straggled a little. They found the Rebels on the road

we had just marched out on. Up to this time not a shot had been fired. All was quiet back at the main works

we had just left, when suddenly we saw several staff officers come tearing up to the Colonel, who ordered us

to 'fall in!' 'Take aims!' 'about, face!' The Lieutenant Colonel dashed down one of the roads where one of the

companies had gone out on picket. The Major and Adjutant galloped down the others. We did not wait for

them to come back, though, but moved right back on the road we had just come out, in line of battle, our

colors in the road, and our flanks in open timber. We soon reached a fence enclosing a large field, and there

could see a line of Rebels moving by the flank, and forming, facing toward Atlanta, but to the left and in the

rear of the position occupied by our Corps. As soon as we reached the fence we fired a round or two into the

"Just then the other companies joined us, and we moved off on 'double quick by the right flank,' for you see

we were completely cut off from the troops up at the front, and we had to get well over to the right to get

around the flank of the Rebels. Just about the time we fired on the rebels the Sixteenth Corps opened up a hot

fire of musketry and artillery on them, some of their shot coming over mighty close to where we were. We

marched pretty fast, and finally turned in through some open fields to the left, and came out just in the rear of

"Just as we came out into the open field we saw General R. K. Scott, who used to be our Colonel, and who

commanded our brigade, come tearing toward us with one or two aids or orderlies. He was on his big

claybank horse, 'Old Hatchie,' as we called him, as we captured him on the battlefield at the battle of

'Matamora,' or 'Hell on the Hatchie,' as our boys always called it. He rode up to the Colonel, said something

hastily, when all at once we heard the allfiredest crash of musketry and artillery way up at the front where

we had built the works the night before and left the rest of our brigade and Division getting ready to prance

into Atlanta when we were sent off to the rear. Scott put spurs to his old horse, who was one of the fastest

runners in our Division, and away he went back towards the position where his brigade and the troops

immediately to their left were now hotly engaged. He rode right along in rear of the Sixteenth Corps, paying

no attention apparently to the shot and shell and bullets that were tearing up the earth and exploding and

striking all around him. His aids and orderlies vainly tried to keep up with him. We could plainly see the

Rebel lines as they came out of the woods into the open grounds to attack the Sixteenth Corps, which had

hastily formed in the open field, without any signs of works, and were standing up like men, having a

handtohand fight. We were just far enough in the rear so that every blasted shot or shell that was fired too

high to hit the ranks of the Sixteenth Corps came rattling over amongst us. All this time we were marching

fast, following in the direction General Scott had taken, who evidently had ordered the Colonel to join his

brigade up at the front. We were down under the crest of a little hill, following along the bank of a little

creek, keeping under cover of the bank as much as possible to protect us from the shots of the enemy. We

suddenly saw General Logan and one or two of his staff upon the right bank of the ravine riding rapidly

"'Halt! What regiment is that, and where are you going?' "The Colonel, in a loud voice, that all could hear,

told him: "The SixtyEighth Ohio; going to join our brigade of the Third Divisionyour old Division,

"Logan says, 'you had better go right in here on the left of Dodge. The Third Division have hardly ground

enough left now to bury their dead. God knows they need you. But try it on, if you think you can get to them.'

"Just at this moment a staff officer came riding up on the opposite side of the ravine from where Logan was

and interrupted Logan, who was about telling the Colonel not to try to go to the position held by the Third

Division by the road cut through the woods whence we had come out, but to keep off to the right towards the

Fifteenth Corps, as the woods referred to were full of Rebels. The officer saluted Logan, and shouted across:

"General Sherman directs me to inform you of the death of General McPherson, and orders you to take

command of the Army of the Tennessee; have Dodge close well up to the Seventeenth Corps, and Sherman

"Logan, standing in his stirrups, on his beautiful black horse, formed a picture against the blue sky as we

looked up the ravine at him, his black eyes fairly blazing and his long black hair waving in the wind. He

"Say to General Sherman I have heard of McPherson's death, and have assumed the command of the Army of

the Tennessee, and have already anticipated his orders in regard to closing the gap between Dodge and the

"This, of course, all happened in one quarter of the time I have been telling you. Logan put spurs to his horse

and rode in one direction, the staff officer of General Sherman in another, and we started on a rapid step

toward the front. This was the first we had heard of McPherson's death, and it made us feel very bad. Some of

the officers and men cried as though they had lost a brother; others pressed their lips, gritted their teeth, and

swore to avenge his death. He was a great favorite with all his Army, particularly of our Corps, which he

commanded for a long while. Our company, especially, knew him well, and loved him dearly, for we had

been his Headquarters Guard for over a year. As we marched along, toward the front, we could see brigades,

and regiments, and batteries of artillery; coming over from the right of the Army, and taking position in new

lines in rear of the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Corps. Major Generals and their staffs, Brigadier Generals and

their staffs, were mighty thick along the banks of the little ravine we were following; stragglers and wounded

men by the hundred were pouring in to the safe shelter formed by the broken ground along which we were

rapidly marching; stories were heard of divisions, brigades and regiments that these wounded or stragglers

belonged, having been all cut to pieces; officers all killed; and the speaker, the only one of his command not

killed, wounded or captured. But you boys have heard and seen the same cowardly sneaks, probably, in fights

that you were in. The battle raged furiously all this time; part of the time the Sixteenth Corps seemed to be in

the worst; then it would let up on them and the Seventeenth Corps would be hotly engaged along their whole

"We had probably marched half an hour since leaving Logan, and were getting pretty near back to our main

line of works, when the Colonel ordered a halt and knapsacks to be unslung and piled up. I tell you it was a

relief to get them off, for it was a fearful hot day, and we had been marching almost double quick. We knew

that this meant business though, and that we were stripping for the fight, which we would soon be in. Just at

this moment we saw an ambulance, with the horses on a dead run, followed by two or three mounted officers

and men, coming right towards us out of the very woods Logan had cautioned the Colonel to avoid. When the

ambulance got to where we were it halted. It was pretty well out of danger from the bullets and shell of the

enemy. They stopped, and we recognized Major Strong, of McPherson's Staff, whom the all knew, as he was

the Chief Inspector of our Corps, and in the ambulance he had the body of General McPherson. Major Strong,

it appears, during a slight lull in the fighting at that part of the line, having taken an ambulance and driven

into the very jaws of death to recover the remains of his loved commander. It seems he found the body right

by the side of the little road that we had gone out on when we went to the rear. He was dead when he found

him, having been shot off his horse, the bullet striking him in the back, just below his heart, probably killing

him instantly. There was a young fellow with him who was wounded also, when Strong found them. He

belonged to our First Division, and recognized General McPherson, and stood by him until Major Strong

came up. He was in the ambulance with the body of McPherson when they stopped by us.

"It seems that when the fight opened away back in the rear where we had been, and at the left of the Sixteenth

Corps which was almost directly in the rear of the Seventeenth Corps, McPherson sent his staff and orderlies

with various orders to different parts of the line, and started himself to ride over from the Seventeenth Corps

to the Sixteenth Corps, taking exactly the same course our Regiment had, perhaps an hour before, but the

Rebels had discovered there was a gap between the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Corps, and meeting no

opposition to their advances in this strip of woods, where they were hidden from view, they had marched

right along down in the rear, and with their line at right angles with the line of works occupied by the left of

the Seventeenth Corps; they were thus parallel and close to the little road McPherson had taken, and probably

"Having piled our knapsacks, and left a couple of our older men, who were played out with the heat and most

ready to drop with sunstroke, to guard them, we started on again. The ambulance with the corpse of Gen.

McPherson moved off towards the right of the Army, which was the last we ever saw of that brave and

"We bore off a little to the right of a large open field on top of a high hill where one of our batteries was

pounding away at a tremendous rate. We came up to the main line of works just about at the left of the

Fifteenth Corps. They seemed to be having an easy time of it just then no fighting going on in their front,

except occasional shots from some heavy guns on the main line of Rebel works around the City. We crossed

right over the Fifteenth Corps' works and filed to the left, keeping along on the outside of our works. We had

not gone far before the Rebel gunners in the main works around the City discovered us; and the way they did

tear loose at us was a caution. Their aim was rather bad, however, and most of their shots went over us. We

saw one of themI think it was a shellstrike an artillery caisson belonging to one of ourbatteries. It

exploded as it struck, and then the caisson, which was full of ammunition, exploded with an awful noise,

throwing pieces of wood and iron and its own load of shot and shell high into the air, scattering death and

destruction to the men and horses attached to it. We thought we saw arms and legs and parts of bodies of men

flying in every direction; but we were glad to learn afterwards that it was the contents of the knapsacks of the

"Just after passing the hill where our battery was making things so lively, they stopped firing to let us pass.

We saw General Leggett, our Division Commander, come riding toward us. He was outside of our line of

works, too. You know how we build breastworkssort of zigzag like, you know, so they cannot be

enfiladed. Well, that's just the way the works were along there, and you never saw such a curious shape as we

formed our Division in. Why, part of them were on one side of the works, and go along a little further and

here was a regiment, or part of a regiment on the other side, both sets firing in opposite directions.

"No sir'ee, they were not demoralized or in confusion, they were cool and as steady as on parade. But the old

Division had, you know, never been driven from any position they had once taken, in all their long service,

and they did not propose to leave that ridge until they got orders from some one beside the Rebs.

"There were times when a fellow did not know which side of the works was the safest, for the Johnnies were

in front of us and in rear of us. You see, our Fourth Division, which had been to the left of us, had been

forced to quit their works, when the Rebs got into the works in their rear, so that our Division was now at the

point where our line turned sharply to the left, and rearin the direction of the Sixteenth Corps.

"We got into business before we had been there over three minutes. A line of the Rebs tried to charge across

the open fields in front of us, but by the help of the old twentyfour pounders (which proved to be part of

Cooper's Illinois Battery, that we had been alongside of in many a hard fight before), we drove them back

aflying, only to have to jump over on the outside of our works the next minute to tackle a heavy force that

came for our rear through that blasted strip of woods. We soon drove them off, and the firing on both sides

"'Our Brigade,' which we discovered, was now commanded by 'Old Whiskers' (Colonel Piles, of the

SeventyEighth Ohio. I'll bet he's got the longest whiskers of any man in the Army.) You see General Scott

had not been seen or heard of since he had started to the rear after our regiment when the fighting first

commenced. We all believed that he was either killed or captured, or he would have been with his command.

He was a splendid soldier, and a bulldog of a fighter. His absence was a great loss, but we had not much

time to think of such things, for our brigade was then ordered to leave the works and to move to the right

about twenty or thirty rods across a large ravine, where we were placed in position in an open cornfield,

forming a new line at quite an angle from the line of works we had just left, extending to the left, and getting

us back nearer onto a line with the Sixteenth Corps. The battery of howitzers, now reinforced by a part of the

Third Ohio heavy guns, still occupied the old works on the highest part of the hill, just to the right of our new

line. We took our position just on the brow of a hill, and were ordered to lie down, and the rear rank to go for

rails, which we discovered a few rods behind us in the shape of a good tenrail fence. Every rearrank chap

came back with all the rails he could lug, and we barely had time to lay them down in front of us, forming a

little barricade of six to eight or ten inches high, when we heard the most unearthly Rebel yell directly in

front of us. It grew louder and came nearer and nearer, until we could see a solid line of the gray coats

coming out of the woods and down the opposite slope, their battle flags flying, officers in front with drawn

swords, arms at right shoulder, and every one of them yelling like so many Sioux Indians. The line seemed to

be massed six or eight ranks deep, followed closely by the second line, and that by the third, each, if possible,

yelling louder and appearing more desperately reckless than the one ahead. At their first appearance we

"On they came; the first line staggered and wavered back on to the second, which was coming on the double

quick. Such a raking as we did give them. Oh, Lordy, how we did wish that we had the breech loading

Spencers or Winchesters. But we had the old reliable Springfields, and we poured it in hot and heavy. By the

time the charging column got down the opposite slope, and were struggling through the thicket of

undergrowth in the ravine, they were one confused mass of officers and men, the three lines now forming one

solid column, which made several desperate efforts to rush up to the top of the hill where we were punishing

them so. One of their first surges came mighty near going right over the left of our Regiment, as they were

lying down behind their little rail piles. But the boys clubbed their guns and the officers used their revolvers

"The SeventyEighth and Twentieth Ohio, our right and left bowers, who had been brigaded with us ever

since 'Shiloh,' were into it as hot and heavy as we had been, and had lost numbers of their officers and men,

but were hanging on to their little rail piles when the fight was over. At one time the Rebs were right in on

top of the SeventyEighth. One big Reb grabbed their colors, and tried to pull them out of the hands of the

colorbearer. But old Captain Orr, a little, short, driedup fellow, about sixty years old, struck him with his

sword across the back of the neck, and killed him deader than a mackerel, right in his tracks.

"It was now getting dark, and the Johnnies concluded they had taken a bigger contract in trying to drive us off

that hill in one day than they had counted on, so they quit charging on us, but drew back under cover of the

woods and along the old line of works that we had left, and kept up a pecking away and sharpshooting at us

all night long. They opened fire on us from a number of pieces of artillery from the front, from the left, and

from some heavy guns away over to the right of us, in the main works around Atlanta.

"We did not fool away much time that night, either. We got our shovels and picks, and while part of us were

sharpshooting and trying to keep the Rebels from working up too close to us, the rest of the boys were putting

up some good solid earthworks right where our rail piles had been, and by morning we were in splendid

shape to have received our friends, no matter which way they had come at us, for they kept up such an

allfired shelling of us from so many different directions; that the boys had built traverses and bombproofs

"There was one point off to our right, a few rods up along our old line of works where there was a crowd of

Rebel sharpshooters that annoyed us more than all the rest, by their constant firing at us through the night.

They killed one of Company H's boys, and wounded several others. Finally Captain Williams, of D

Company, came along and said he wanted a couple of good shots out of our company to go with him, so I

went for one. He took about ten of us, and we crawled down into the ravine in front of where we were

building the works, and got behind a large fallen tree, and we laid there and could just fire right up into the

rear of those fellows as they lay behind a traverse extending back from our old line of works. It was so dark

we could only see where to fire by the flash of guns, but every time they would shoot, some of us would let

them have one. They staid there until almost daylight, when they, concluded as things looked, since we were

"It was an awful night. Down in the ravine below us lay hundreds of killed and wounded Rebels, groaning

and crying aloud for water and for help. We did do what we could for those right around usbut it was so

dark, and so many shell bursting and bullets flying around that a fellow could not get about much. I tell you it

was pretty tough next morning to go along to the different companies of our regiment and hear who were

among the killed and wounded, and to see the long row of graves that were being dug to bury our comrades

and our officers. There was the Captain of Company E, Nelson Skeeles, of Fulton County, O., one ofthe

bravest and best officers in the regiment. By his side lay First Sergeant Lesnit, and next were the two great,

powerful Shepherdscousins but more like brothers. One, it seems, was killed while supporting the head of

the other, who had just received a death wound, thus dying in each other's arms.

"But I can't begin to think or tell you the names of all the poor boys that we laid away to rest in their last,

long sleep on that gloomy day. Our Major was severely wounded, and several other officers had been hit

"It was a frightful sight, though, to go over the field in front of our works on that morning. The Rebel dead

and badly wounded laid where they had fallen. The bottom and opposite side of the ravine showed how

destructive our fire and that of the canister from the howitzers had been. The underbrush was cut, slashed,

and torn into shreds, and the larger trees were scarred, bruised and broken by the thousands of bullets and

other missiles that had been poured into them from almost every conceivable direction during the day before.

"A lot of us boys went way over to the left into Fuller's Division of the Sixteenth Corps, to see how some of

our boys over there had got through the scrimmage, for they had about as nasty a fight as any part of the

Army, and if it had not been for their being just where they were, I am not sure but what the old Seventeenth

Corps would have had a different story to tell now. We found our friends had been way out by Decatur,

"We got back to camp, and the first thing I knew I was detailed for picket duty, and we were posted over a

few rods across the ravine in our front. We had not been out but a short time when we saw a flag of truce,

borne by an officer, coming towards us. We halted him, and made him wait until a report was sent back to

Corps headquarters. The Rebel officer was quite chatty and talkative with our picket officer, while waiting.

He said he was on General Cleburne's staff, and that the troops that charged us so fiercely the evening before

was Cleburne's whole Division, and that after their last repulse, knowing the hill where we were posted was

the most important position along our line, he felt that if they would keep close to us during the night, and

keep up a show of fight, that we would pull out and abandon the hill before morning. He said that he, with

about fifty of their best men, had volunteered to keep up the demonstration, and it was his party that had

occupied the traverse in our old works the night before and had annoyed us and the Battery men by their

constant sharpshooting, which we fellows behind the old tree had finally tired out. He said they staid until

almost daylight, and that he lost more than half his men before he left. He also told us that General Scott was

captured by their Division, at about the time and almost the same spot as where General McPherson was

killed, and that he was not hurt or wounded, and was now a prisoner in their hands.

"Quite a lot of our, staff officers soon came out, and as near as we could learn the Rebels wanted a truce to

bury their dead. Our folks tried to get up an exchange of prisoners that had been taken by both sides the day

before, but for some reason they could not bring it about. But the truce for burying the dead was agreed to.

Along about dusk some of the boys on my post got to telling about a lot of silver and brass instruments that

belonged to one of the bands of the Fourth Division, which had been hung up in some small trees a little way

over in front of where we were when the fight was going on the day before, and that when, a bullet would

strike one of the horns they could hear it go 'ping' and in a few minutes 'pang' would go another bullet

"A new picket was just coming' on, and I had picked up my blanket and haversack, and was about ready to

start back to camp, when, thinks I, 'I'll just go out there and see about them horns.' I told the boys what I was

going to do. They all seemed to think it was safe enough, so out I started. I had not gone more than a hundred

yards, I should think, when here I found the horns all hanging around on the trees just as the boys had

described. Some of them had lots of bullet holes in them. But I saw a beautiful, nice looking silver bugle

hanging off to one side a little. 'I Thinks,' says I, 'I'll just take that little toot horn in out of the wet, and take

'Halt!' and I'll be dogBoned if there wasn't two of the meanest looking Rebels, standing not ten feet from

me, with their guns cocked and pointed at me, and, of course, I knew I was a goner; they walked me back

about one hundred and fifty yards, where their picket line was. From there I was kept going for an hour or

two until we got over to a place on the railroad called East Point. There I got in with a big crowd of our

prisoners, who were taken the day before, and we have been fooling along in a lot of old cattle cars getting

Clothing had now become an object of real solicitude to us older prisoners. The veterans of our crowdthe

surviving remnant of those captured at Gettysburghad been prisoners over a year. The next in

senioritythe Chickamauga boyshad been in ten months. The Mine Run fellows were eight months old,

and my battalion had had seven months' incarceration. None of us were models of welldressed gentlemen

when captured. Our garments told the whole story of the hard campaigning we had undergone. Now, with

months of the wear and tear of prison life, sleeping on the sand, working in tunnels, digging wells, etc., we

were tattered and torn to an extent that a secondclass tramp would have considered disgraceful.

This is no reflection upon the quality of the clothes furnished by the Government. We simply reached the

limit of the wear of textile fabrics. I am particular to say this, because I want to contribute my little mite

towards doing justice to a badly abused part of our Army organization the Quartermaster's Department. It

is fashionable to speak of "shoddy," and utter some stereotyped sneers about "brown paper shoes," and

"musketonetting overcoats," when any discussion of the Quartermaster service is the subject of

conversation, but I have no hesitation in asking the indorsement of my comrades to the statement that we

have never found anywhere else as durable garments as those furnished us by the Government during our

service in the Army. The clothes were not as fine in texture, nor so stylish in cut as those we wore before or

since, but when it came to wear they could be relied on to the last thread. It was always marvelous to me that

they lasted so well, with the rough usage a soldier in the field must necessarily give them.

But to return to my subject. I can best illustrate the way our clothes dropped off us, piece by piece, like the

petals from the last rose of Summer, by taking my own case as an example: When I entered prison I was clad

in the ordinary garb of an enlisted man of the cavalrystout, comfortable boots, woolen pocks, drawers,

pantaloons, with a "reenforcement," or "readymade patches," as the infantry called them; vest, warm,

snugfitting jacket, under and over shirts, heavy overcoat, and a foragecap. First my boots fell into cureless

ruin, but this was no special hardship, as the weather had become quite warm, and it was more pleasant than

otherwise to go barefooted. Then part of the underclothing retired from service. The jacket and vest followed,

their end being hastened by having their best portions taken to patch up the pantaloons, which kept giving out

at the most embarrassing places. Then the cape of the overcoat was called upon to assist in repairing these

continuallyrecurring breaches in the nether garments. The same insatiate demand finally consumed the

whole coat, in a vain attempt to prevent an exposure of person greater than consistent with the usages of

society. The pantaloonsor what, by courtesy, I called such, were a monument of careful and ingenious, but

hopeless, patching, that should have called forth the admiration of a Florentine artist in mosaic. I have been

shownin later yearsmany table tops, ornamented in marquetry, inlaid with thousands of little bits of

wood, cunningly arranged, and patiently joined together. I always look at them with interest, for I know the

The clothing upon the upper part of my body had been reduced to the remains of a knit undershirt. It had

fallen into so many holes that it looked like the coarse "riddles" through which ashes and gravel are sifted.

Wherever these holes were the sun had burned my back, breast and shoulders deeply black. The parts covered

by the threads and fragments forming the boundaries of the holes, were still white. When I pulled my alleged

shirt off, to wash or to free it from some of its teeming population, my skin showed a fine lace pattern in

black and white, that was very interesting to my comrades, and the subject of countless jokes by them.

They used to descant loudly on the chaste elegance of the design, the richness of the tracing, etc., and beg me

to furnish them with a copy of it when I got home, for their sisters to work window curtains or tidies by. They

were sure that so striking a novelty in patterns would be very acceptable. I would reply to their witticisms in

One of the stories told me in my childhood by an old negro nurse, was of a poverty stricken little girl "who

In the same spirit I used to wonder how poor fellows got along who hadn't any shirt.

One common way of keeping up one's clothing was by stealing mealsacks. The meal furnished as rations was

brought in in white cotton sacks. Sergeants of detachments were required to return these when the rations

were issued the next day. I have before alluded to the general incapacity of the Rebels to deal accurately with

even simple numbers. It was never very difficult for a shrewd Sergeant to make nine sacks count as ten. After

awhile the Rebels began to see through this sleight of hand manipulation, and to check it. Then the Sergeants

resorted to the device of tearing the sacks in two, and turning each half in as a whole one. The cotton cloth

gained in this way was used for patching, or, if a boy could succeed in beating the Rebels out of enough of it,

he would fabricate himself a shirt or a pair of pantaloons. We obtained all our thread in the same way. A half

of a sack, carefully raveled out, would furnish a couple of handfuls of thread. Had it not been for this resource

Most of our needles were manufactured by ourselves from bones. A piece of bone, split as near as possible to

the required size, was carefully rubbed down upon a brick, and then had an eye laboriously worked through it

with a bit of wire or something else available for the purpose. The needles were about the size of ordinary

These devices gave one some conception of the way savages provide for the wants of their lives. Time was

with them, as with us, of little importance. It was no loss of time to them, nor to us, to spend a large portion

of the waking hours of a week in fabricating a needle out of a bone, where a civilized man could purchase a

much better one with the product of three minutes' labor. I do not think any red Indian of the plains exceeded

Of course the most common source of clothing was the dead, and no body was carried out with any clothing

on it that could be of service to the survivors. The Plymouth Pilgrims, who were so well clothed on coming

in, and were now dying off very rapidly, furnished many good suits to cover the nakedness of older,

prisoners. Most of the prisoners from the Army of the Potomac were well dressed, and as very many died

within a month or six weeks after their entrance, they left their clothes in pretty good condition for those who

For my own part, I had the greatest aversion to wearing dead men's clothes, and could only bring myself to it

after I had been a year in prison, and it became a question between doing that and freezing to death.

Every new batch of prisoners was besieged with anxious inquiries on the subject which lay closest to all our

Nothing in human experiencesave the anxious expectancy of a sail by castaways on a desert islandcould

equal the intense eagerness with which this question was asked, and the answer awaited. To thousands now

hanging on the verge of eternity it meant life or death. Between the first day of July and the first of November

over twelve thousand men died, who would doubtless have lived had they been able to reach our lines"get

The new comers brought little reliable news of contemplated exchange. There was none to bring in the first

place, and in the next, soldiers in active service in the field had other things to busy themselves with than

reading up the details of the negotiations between the Commissioners of Exchange. They had all heard

rumors, however, and by the time they reached Andersonville, they had crystallized these into actual

statements of fact. A half hour after they entered the Stockade, a report like this would spread like wildfire:

"An Army of the Potomac man has just come in, who was captured in front of Petersburg. He says that he

read in the New York Herald, the day before he was taken, that an exchange had been agreed upon, and that

Then our hopes would soar up like balloons. We fed ourselves on such stuff from day to day, and doubtless

many lives were greatly prolonged by the continual encouragement. There was hardly a day when I did not

say to myself that I would much rather die than endure imprisonment another month, and had I believed that

another month would see me still there, I am pretty certain that I should have ended the matter by crossing the

Dead Line. I was firmly resolved not to die the disgusting, agonizing death that so many around me were

One of our best purveyors of information was a bright, blueeyed, fair haired little drummer boy, as

handsome as a girl, wellbred as a lady, and evidently the darling of some refined loving mother. He

belonged, I think, to some loyal Virginia regiment, was captured in one of the actions in the Shenandoa

Valley, and had been with us in Richmond. We called him "Red Cap," from his wearing a jaunty, goldlaced,

crimson cap. Ordinarily, the smaller a drummer boy is the harder he is, but no amount of attrition with rough

men could coarse the ingrained refinement of Red Cap's manners. He was between thirteen and fourteen, and

it seemed utterly shameful that men, calling themselves soldier should make war on such a tender boy and

But no sixfooter had a more soldierly heart than little Red Cap, and none were more loyal to the cause. It

was a pleasure to hear him tell the story of the fights and movements his regiment had been engaged in. He

was a good observer and told his tale with boyish fervor. Shortly after Wirz assumed command he took Red

Cap into his office as an Orderly. His bright face and winning manner; fascinated the women visitors at

headquarters, and numbers of them tried to adopt him, but with poor success. Like the rest of us, he could see

few charms in an existence under the Rebel flag, and turned a deaf ear to their blandishments. He kept his

ears open to the conversation of the Rebel officers around him, and frequently secured permission to visit the

interior of the Stockade, when he would communicate to us all that he has heard. He received a flattering

reception every time he cams in, and no orator ever secured a more attentive audience than would gather

around him to listen to what he had to say. He was, beyond a doubt, the best known and most popular person

in the prison, and I know all the survivors of his old admirer; share my great interest in him, and my curiosity

as to whether he yet lives, and whether his subsequent career has justified the sanguine hopes we all had as to

his future. I hope that if he sees this, or any one who knows anything about him, he will communicate with

[A most remarkable coincidence occurred in regard to this comrade. Several days after the above had been

written, and "set up," but before it had yet appeared in the paper, I received the following letter:

Last evening I saw a copy of your paper, in which was a chapter or two of a prison life of a soldier during the

late war. I was forcibly struck with the correctness of what he wrote, and the names of several of my old

comrades which he quoted: Hill, Limber Jim, etc., etc. I was a drummer boy of Company I, Tenth West

Virginia Infantry, and was fifteen years of age a day or two after arriving in Andersonville, which was in the

last of February, 1884. Nineteen of my comrades were there with me, and, poor fellows, they are there yet. I

have no doubt that I would have remained there, too, had I not been more fortunate.

I do not know who your soldier correspondent is, but assume to say that from the following description he

will remember having seen me in Andersonville: I was the little boy that for three or four months officiated as

orderly for Captain Wirz. I wore a red cap, and every day could be seen riding Wirz's gray mare, either at

headquarters, or about the Stockade. I was acting in this capacity when the six raiders "Mosby," (proper

name Collins) Delaney, Curtis, andI forget the other nameswere executed. I believe that I was the first

that conveyed the intelligence to them that Confederate General Winder had approved their sentence. As soon

as Wirz received the dispatch to that effect, I ran down to the stocks and told them.

I visited Hill, of Wauseon, Fulton County, O., since the war, and found him hale and hearty. I have not heard

from him for a number of years until reading your correspondent's letter last evening. It is the only letter of

the series that I have seen, but after reading that one, I feel called upon to certify that I have no doubts of the

truthfulness of your correspondent's story. The world will never know or believe the horrors of Andersonville

and other prisons in the South. No living, human being, in my judgment, will ever be able to properly paint

I formed the acquaintance of several Ohio soldiers whilst in prison. Among these were O. D. Streeter, of

Cleveland, who went to Andersonville about the same time that I did, and escaped, and was the only man that

I ever knew that escaped and reached our lines. After an absence of several months he was retaken in one of

Sherman's battles before Atlanta, and brought back. I also knew John L. Richards, of Fostoria, Seneca

County, O. or Eaglesville, Wood County. Also, a man by the name of Beverly, who was a partner of Charley

Aucklebv, of Tennessee. I would like to hear from all of these parties. They all know me.

Mr. Editor, I will close by wishing all my comrades who shared in the sufferings and dangers of Confederate

Speaking of the manner in which the Plymouth Pilgrims were now dying, I am reminded of my theory that

the ordinary man's endurance of this prison life did not average over three months. The Plymouth boys

arrived in May; the bulk of those who died passed away in July and August. The great increase of prisoners

from all sources was in May, June and July. The greatest mortality among these was in August, September

Many came in who had been in good health during their service in the field, but who seemed utterly

overwhelmed by the appalling misery they saw on every hand, and giving way to despondency, died in a few

days or weeks. I do not mean to include them in the above class, as their sickness was more mental than

physical. my idea is that, taking one hundred ordinarily healthful young soldiers from a regiment in active

service, and putting them into Andersonville, by the end of the third month at least thirtythree of those

weakest and most vulnerable to disease would have succumbed to the exposure, the pollution of ground and

air, and the insufficiency of the ration of coarse corn meal. After this the mortality would be somewhat less,

say at the end of six months fifty of them would be dead. The remainder would hang on still more

tenaciously, and at the end of a year there would be fifteen or twenty still alive. There were sixtythree of my

company taken; thirteen lived through. I believe this was about the usual proportion for those who were in as

long as we. In all there were fortyfive thousand six hundred and thirteen prisoners brought into

Andersonville. Of these twelve thousand nine hundred and twelve died there, to say nothing of thousands that

died in other prisons in Georgia and the Carolinas, immediately after their removal from Andersonville. One

of every three and ahalf men upon whom the gates of the Stockade closed never repassed them alive.

Twentynine per cent. of the boys who so much as set foot in Andersonville died there. Let it be kept in mind

all the time, that the average stay of a prisoner there was not four months. The great majority came in after

the 1st of May, and left before the middle of September. May 1, 1864, there were ten thousand four hundred

and twentyseven in the Stockade. August 8 there were thirtythree thousand one hundred and fourteen;

September 30 all these were dead or gone, except eight thousand two hundred and eighteen, of whom four

thousand five hundred and ninety died inside of the next thirty days. The records of the world can shove no

Since the above matter was first published in the BLADE, a friend has sent me a transcript of the evidence at

the Wirz trial, of Professor Joseph Jones, a Surgeon of high rank in the Rebel Army, and who stood at the

head of the medical profession in Georgia. He visited Andersonville at the instance of the SurgeonGeneral

of the Confederate States' Army, to make a study, for the benefit of science, of the phenomena of disease

occurring there. His capacity and opportunities for observation, and for clearly estimating the value of the

facts coming under his notice were, of course, vastly superior to mine, and as he states the case stronger than

I dare to, for fear of being accused of exaggeration and downright untruth, I reproduce the major part of his

testimonyembodying also his official report to medical headquarters at Richmondthat my readers may

know how the prison appeared to the eyes of one who, though a bitter Rebel, was still a humane man and a

[Transcript from the printed testimony at the Wirz Trial, pages 618 to 639, inclusive.]

Q. Has your experience been as a practitioner, or rather as an investigator of medicine as a science?

A. I served six months in the early part of it as a private in the ranks, and the rest of the time in the medical

Q. Did you, while acting under his direction, visit Andersonville, professionally?

A. For the purpose of prosecuting investigations ordered by the Surgeon General.

Q. Have you examined this extract from your report and compared it with the original?

The document just examined by witness was offered in evidence, and is as follows:

Observations upon the diseases of the Federal prisoners, confined to Camp Sumter, Andersonville, in Sumter

County, Georgia, instituted with a view to illustrate chiefly the origin and causes of hospital gangrene, the

relations of continued and malarial fevers, and the pathology of camp diarrhea and dysentery, by Joseph

Jones; Surgeon P. A. C. S., Professor of Medical Chemistry in the Medical College of Georgia, at Augusta,

Hearing of the unusual mortality among the Federal prisoners confined at Andersonville; Georgia, in the

month of August, 1864, during a visit to Richmond, Va., I expressed to the Surgeon General, S. P. Moore,

Confederate States of America, a desire to visit Camp Sumter, with the design of instituting a series of

inquiries upon the nature and causes of the prevailing diseases. Smallpox had appeared among the prisoners,

and I believed that this would prove an admirable field for the establishment of its characteristic lesions. The

condition of Peyer's glands in this disease was considered as worthy of minute investigation. It was believed

that a large body of men from the Northern portion of the United States, suddenly transported to a warm

Southern climate, and confined upon a small portion of land, would furnish an excellent field for the

The Surgeon General of the Confederate States of America furnished me with the following letter of

introduction to the Surgeon in charge of the Confederate States Military Prison at Andersonville, Ga.:

SIR:The field of pathological investigations afforded by the large collection of Federal prisoners in

Georgia, is of great extant and importance, and it is believed that results of value to the profession may be

obtained by careful investigation of the effects of disease upon the large body of men subjected to a decided

change of climate and those circumstances peculiar to prison life. The Surgeon in charge of the hospital for

Federal prisoners, together with his assistants, will afford every facility to Surgeon Joseph Jones, in the

prosecution of the labors ordered by the Surgeon General. Efficient assistance must be rendered Surgeon

Jones by the medical officers, not only in his examinations into the causes and symptoms of the various

The medical officers will assist in the performance of such postmortems as Surgeon Jones may indicate, in

order that this great field for pathological investigation may be explored for the benefit of the Medical

Department of the Confederate Army. S. P. MOORE, Surgeon General. Surgeon ISAIAH H. WHITE,

In compliance with this letter of the Surgeon General, Isaiah H. White, Chief Surgeon of the post, and R. R.

Stevenson, Surgeon in charge of the Prison Hospital, afforded the necessary facilities for the prosecution of

my investigations among the sick outside of the Stockade. After the completion of my labors in the military

prison hospital, the following communication was addressed to Brigadier General John H. Winder, in

consequence of the refusal on the part of the commandant of the interior of the Confederate States Military

GENERAL:I respectfully request the commandant of the post of Andersonville to grant me permission and

to furnish the necessary pass to visit the sick and medical officers within the Stockade of the Confederate

States Prison. I desire to institute certain inquiries ordered by the Surgeon General. Surgeon Isaiah H. White,

Chief Surgeon of the post, and Surgeon R. R. Stevenson, in charge of the Prison Hospital, have afforded me

every facility for the prosecution of my labors among the sick outside of the Stockade. Very respectfully,

In the absence of General Winder from the post, Captain Winder furnished the following order:

CAPTAIN:You will permit Surgeon Joseph Jones, who has orders from the Surgeon General, to visit the

sick within the Stockade that are under medical treatment. Surgeon Jones is ordered to make certain

investigations which may prove useful to his profession. By direction of General Winder. Very respectfully,

Description of the Confederate States Military Prison Hospital at Andersonville. Number of prisoners,

The Confederate Military Prison at Andersonville, Ga., consists of a strong Stockade, twenty feet in height,

enclosing twentyseven acres. The Stockade is formed of strong pine logs, firmly planted in the ground. The

main Stockade is surrounded by two other similar rows of pine logs, the middle Stockade being sixteen feet

high, and the outer twelve feet. These are intended for offense and defense. If the inner Stockade should at

any time be forced by the prisoners, the second forms another line of defense; while in case of an attempt to

deliver the prisoners by a force operating upon the exterior, the outer line forms an admirable protection to

the Confederate troops, and a most formidable obstacle to cavalry or infantry. The four angles of the outer

line are strengthened by earthworks upon commanding eminences, from which the cannon, in case of an

outbreak among the prisoners, may sweep the entire enclosure; and it was designed to connect these works by

a line of rifle pits, running zig zag, around the outer Stockade; those rifle pits have never been completed.

The ground enclosed by the innermost Stockade lies in the form of a parallelogram, the larger diameter

running almost due north and south. This space includes the northern and southern opposing sides of two

hills, between which a stream of water runs from west to east. The surface soil of these hills is composed

chiefly of sand with varying admixtures of clay and oxide of iron. The clay is sufficiently tenacious to give a

considerable degree of consistency to the soil. The internal structure of the hills, as revealed by the deep

wells, is similar to that already described. The alternate layers of clay and sand, as well as the oxide of iron,

which forms in its various combinations a cement to the sand, allow of extensive tunneling. The prisoners not

only constructed numerous dirt huts with balls of clay and sand, taken from the wells which they have

excavated all over those hills, but they have also, in some cases, tunneled extensively from these wells. The

lower portions of these hills, bordering on the stream, are wet and boggy from the constant oozing of water.

The Stockade was built originally to accommodate only ten thousand prisoners, and included at first

seventeen acres. Near the close of the month of June the area was enlarged by the addition of ten acres. The

The average number of square feet of ground to each prisoner in August 1864: 35.7

Within the circumscribed area of the Stockade the Federal prisoners were compelled to perform all the offices

of lifecooking, washing, the calls of nature, exercise, and sleeping. During the month of March the prison

was less crowded than at any subsequent time, and then the average space of ground to each prisoner was

only 98.7 feet, or less than seven square yards. The Federal prisoners were gathered from all parts of the

Confederate States east of the Mississippi, and crowded into the confined space, until in the month of June

the average number of square feet of ground to each prisoner was only 33.2 or less than four square yards.

These figures represent the condition of the Stockade in a better light even than it really was; for a

considerable breadth of land along the stream, flowing from west to east between the hills, was low and

boggy, and was covered with the excrement of the men, and thus rendered wholly uninhabitable, and in fact

useless for every purpose except that of defecation. The pines and other small trees and shrubs, which

originally were scattered sparsely over these hills, were in a short time cut down and consumed by the

prisoners for firewood, and no shade tree was left in the entire enclosure of the stockade. With their

characteristic industry and ingenuity, the Federals constructed for themselves small huts and caves, and

attempted to shield themselves from the rain and sun and night damps and dew. But few tents were

distributed to the prisoners, and those were in most cases torn and rotten. In the location and arrangement of

these tents and huts no order appears to have been followed; in fact, regular streets appear to be out of the

question in so crowded an area; especially too, as large bodies of prisoners were from time to time added

suddenly without any previous preparations. The irregular arrangement of the huts and imperfect shelters was

The police and internal economy of the prison was left almost entirely in the hands of the prisoners

themselves; the duties of the Confederate soldiers acting as guards being limited to the occupation of the

boxes or lookouts ranged around the stockade at regular intervals, and to the manning of the batteries at the

angles of the prison. Even judicial matters pertaining to themselves, as the detection and punishment of such

crimes as theft and murder appear to have been in a great measure abandoned to the prisoners. A striking

instance of this occurred in the month of July, when the Federal prisoners within the Stockade tried,

condemned, and hanged six (6) of their own number, who had been convicted of stealing and of robbing and

murdering their fellowprisoners. They were all hung upon the same day, and thousands of the prisoners

gathered around to witness the execution. The Confederate authorities are said not to have interfered with

these proceedings. In this collection of men from all parts of the world, every phase of human character was

represented; the stronger preyed upon the weaker, and even the sick who were unable to defend themselves

were robbed of their scanty supplies of food and clothing. Dark stories were afloat, of men, both sick and

well, who were murdered at night, strangled to death by their comrades for scant supplies of clothing or

money. I heard a sick and wounded Federal prisoner accuse his nurse, a fellowprisoner of the United States

Army, of having stealthily, during his sleep inoculated his wounded arm with gangrene, that he might destroy

The large number of men confined within the Stockade soon, under a defective system of police, and with

imperfect arrangements, covered the surface of the low grounds with excrements. The sinks over the lower

portions of the stream were imperfect in their plan and structure, and the excrements were in large measure

deposited so near the borders of the stream as not to be washed away, or else accumulated upon the low

boggy ground. The volume of water was not sufficient to wash away the feces, and they accumulated in such

quantities in the lower portion of the stream as to form a mass of liquid excrement heavy rains caused the

water of the stream to rise, and as the arrangements for the passage of the increased amounts of water out of

the Stockade were insufficient, the liquid feces overflowed the low grounds and covered them several inches,

after the subsidence of the waters. The action of the sun upon this putrefying mass of excrements and

fragments of bread and meat and bones excited most rapid fermentation and developed a horrible stench.

Improvements were projected for the removal of the filth and for the prevention of its accumulation, but they

were only partially and imperfectly carried out. As the forces of the prisoners were reduced by confinement,

want of exercise, improper diet, and by scurvy, diarrhea, and dysentery, they were unable to evacuate their

bowels within the stream or along its banks, and the excrements were deposited at the very doors of their

tents. The vast majority appeared to lose all repulsion to filth, and both sick and well disregarded all the laws

of hygiene and personal cleanliness. The accommodations for the sick were imperfect and insufficient. From

the organization of the prison, February 24, 1864, to May 22, the sick were treated within the Stockade. In the

crowded condition of the Stockade, and with the tents and huts clustered thickly around the hospital, it was

impossible to secure proper ventilation or to maintain the necessary police. The Federal prisoners also made

frequent forays upon the hospital stores and carried off the food and clothing of the sick. The hospital was, on

the 22d of May, removed to its present site without the Stockade, and five acres of ground covered with oaks

The supply of medical officers has been insufficient from the foundation of the prison.

The nurses and attendants upon the sick have been most generally Federal prisoners, who in too many cases

appear to have been devoid of moral principle, and who not only neglected their duties, but were also

From the want of proper police and hygienic regulations alone it is not wonderful that from February 24 to

September 21, 1864, nine thousand four hundred and seventynine deaths, nearly onethird the entire

number of prisoners, should have been recorded. I found the Stockade and hospital in the following condition

during my pathological investigations, instituted in the month of September, 1864:

At the time of my visit to Andersonville a large number of Federal prisoners had been removed to Millen,

Savannah; Charleston, and other parts of, the Confederacy, in anticipation of an advance of General

Sherman's forces from Atlanta, with the design of liberating their captive brethren; however, about fifteen

thousand prisoners remained confined within the limits of the Stockade and Confederate States Military

In the Stockade, with the exception of the damp lowlands bordering the small stream, the surface was covered

with huts, and small ragged tents and parts of blankets and fragments of oilcloth, coats, and blankets

stretched upon stacks. The tents and huts were not arranged according to any order, and there was in most

parts of the enclosure scarcely room for two men to walk abreast between the tents and huts.

If one might judge from the large pieces of cornbread scattered about in every direction on the ground the

prisoners were either very lavishly supplied with this article of diet, or else this kind of food was not relished

Each day the dead from the Stockade were carried out by their fellow prisoners and deposited upon the

ground under a bush arbor, just outside of the Southwestern Gate. From thence they were carried in carts to

the burying ground, onequarter of a mile northwest, of the Prison. The dead were buried without coffins,

The low grounds bordering the stream were covered with human excrements and filth of all kinds, which in

many places appeared to be alive with working maggots. An indescribable sickening stench arose from these

There were near five thousand seriously ill Federals in the Stockade and Confederate States Military Prison

Hospital, and the deaths exceeded one hundred per day, and large numbers of the prisoners who were walking

about, and who had not been entered upon the sick reports, were suffering from severe and incurable

diarrhea, dysentery, and scurvy. The sick were attended almost entirely by their fellowprisoners, appointed

as nurses, and as they received but little attention, they were compelled to exert themselves at all times to

attend to the calls of nature, and hence they retained the power of moving about to within a comparatively

short period of the close of life. Owing to the slow progress of the diseases most prevalent, diarrhea, and

I visited two thousand sick within the Stockade, lying under some long sheds which had been built at the

northern portion for themselves. At this time only one medical officer was in attendance, whereas at least

....................................................3,254 Died in Hospital during same time ...............................6,225

Scurvy, diarrhea, dysentery, and hospital gangrene were the prevailing diseases. I was surprised to find but

few cases of malarial fever, and no wellmarked cases either of typhus or typhoid fever. The absence of the

different forms of malarial fever may be accounted for in the supposition that the artificial atmosphere of the

Stockade, crowded densely with human beings and loaded with animal exhalations, was unfavorable to the

existence and action of the malarial poison. The absence of typhoid and typhus fevers amongst all the causes

which are supposed to generate these diseases, appeared to be due to the fact that the great majority of these

prisoners had been in captivity in Virginia, at Belle Island, and in other parts of the Confederacy for months,

and even as long as two years, and during this time they had been subjected to the same bad influences, and

those who had not had these fevers before either had them during their confinement in Confederate prisons or

The effects of scurvy were manifested on every hand, and in all its various stages, from the muddy, pale

complexion, pale gums, feeble, languid muscular motions, lowness of spirits, and fetid breath, to the dusky,

dirty, leaden complexion, swollen features, spongy, purple, livid, fungoid, bleeding gums, loose teeth,

oedematous limbs, covered with livid vibices, and petechiae spasmodically flexed, painful and hardened

extremities, spontaneous hemorrhages from mucous canals, and large, ill conditioned, spreading ulcers

covered with a dark purplish fungus growth. I observed that in some of the cases of scurvy the parotid glands

were greatly swollen, and in some instances to such an extent as to preclude entirely the power to articulate.

In several cases of dropsy of the abdomen and lower extremities supervening upon scurvy, the patients

affirmed that previously to the appearance of the dropsy they had suffered with profuse and obstinate

diarrhea, and that when this was checked by a change of diet, from Indian cornbread baked with the husk, to

boiled rice, the dropsy appeared. The severe pains and livid patches were frequently associated with swellings

in various parts, and especially in the lower extremities, accompanied with stiffness and contractions of the

knee joints and ankles, and often with a brawny feel of the parts, as if lymph had been effused between the

integuments and apeneuroses, preventing the motion of the skin over the swollen parts. Many of the prisoners

believed that the scurvy was contagious, and I saw men guarding their wells and springs, fearing lest some

I observed also numerous cases of hospital gangrene, and of spreading scorbutic ulcers, which had

supervened upon slight injuries. The scorbutic ulcers presented a dark, purple fungoid, elevated surface, with

livid swollen edges, and exuded a thin; fetid, sanious fluid, instead of pus. Many ulcers which originated

from the scorbutic condition of the system appeared to become truly gangrenous, assuming all the

characteristics of hospital gangrene. From the crowded condition, filthy habits, bad diet, and dejected,

depressed condition of the prisoners, their systems had become so disordered that the smallest abrasion of the

skin, from the rubbing of a shoe, or from the effects of the sun, or from the prick of a splinter, or from

scratching, or a musketo bite, in some cases, took on rapid and frightful ulceration and gangrene. The long

use of salt meat, ofttimes imperfectly cured, as well as the most total deprivation of vegetables and fruit,

appeared to be the chief causes of the scurvy. I carefully examined the bakery and the bread furnished the

prisoners, and found that they were supplied almost entirely with corn bread from which the husk had not

been separated. This husk acted as an irritant to the alimentary canal, without adding any nutriment to the

bread. As far as my examination extended no fault could be found with the mode in which the bread was

baked; the difficulty lay in the failure to separate the husk from the cornmeal. I strongly urged the

preparation of large quantities of soup made from the cow and calves' heads with the brains and tongues, to

which a liberal supply of sweet potatos and vegetables might have been advantageously added. The material

existed in abundance for the preparation of such soup in large quantities with but little additional expense.

Such aliment would have been not only highly nutritious, but it would also have acted as an efficient

remedial agent for the removal of the scorbutic condition. The sick within the Stockade lay under several

long sheds which were originally built for barracks. These sheds covered two floors which were open on all

sides. The sick lay upon the bare boards, or upon such ragged blankets as they possessed, without, as far as I

The haggard, distressed countenances of these miserable, complaining, dejected, living skeletons, crying for

medical aid and food, and cursing their Government for its refusal to exchange prisoners, and the ghastly

corpses, with their glazed eye balls staring up into vacant space, with the flies swarming down their open and

grinning mouths, and over their ragged clothes, infested with numerous lice, as they lay amongst the sick and

dying, formed a picture of helpless, hopeless misery which it would be impossible to portray bywords or by

the brush. A feeling of disappointment and even resentment on account of the United States Government

upon the subject of the exchange of prisoners, appeared to be widespread, and the apparent hopeless nature of

the negotiations for some general exchange of prisoners appeared to be a cause of universal regret and deep

and injurious despondency. I heard some of the prisoners go so far as to exonerate the Confederate

Government from any charge of intentionally subjecting them to a protracted confinement, with its necessary

and unavoidable sufferings, in a country cut off from all intercourse with foreign nations, and sorely pressed

on all sides, whilst on the other hand they charged their prolonged captivity upon their own Government,

which was attempting to make the negro equal to the white man. Some hundred or more of the prisoners had

been released from confinement in the Stockade on parole, and filled various offices as clerks, druggists, and

carpenters, etc., in the various departments. These men were well clothed, and presented a stout and healthy

appearance, and as a general rule they presented a much more robust and healthy appearance than the

The entire grounds are surrounded by a frail board fence, and are strictly guarded by Confederate soldiers,

and no prisoner except the paroled attendants is allowed to leave the grounds except by a special permit from

The patients and attendants, near two thousand in number, are crowded into this confined space and are but

poorly supplied with old and ragged tents. Large numbers of them were without any bunks in the tents, and

lay upon the ground, ofttimes without even a blanket. No beds or straw appeared to have been furnished.

The tents extend to within a few yards of the small stream, the eastern portion of which, as we have before

said, is used as a privy and is loaded with excrements; and I observed a large pile of cornbread, bones, and

filth of all kinds, thirty feet in diameter and several feet in hight, swarming with myriads of flies, in a vacant

space near the pots used for cooking. Millions of flies swarmed over everything, and covered the faces of the

sleeping patients, and crawled down their open mouths, and deposited their maggots in the gangrenous

wounds of the living, and in the mouths of the dead. Musketos in great numbers also infested the tents, and

many of the patients were so stung by these pestiferous insects, that they resembled those suffering from a

The police and hygiene of the hospital were defective in the extreme; the attendants, who appeared in almost

every instance to have been selected from the prisoners, seemed to have in many cases but little interest in the

welfare of their fellowcaptives. The accusation was made that the nurses in many cases robbed the sick of

their clothing, money, and rations, and carried on a clandestine trade with the paroled prisoners and

Confederate guards without the hospital enclosure, in the clothing, effects of the sick, dying, and dead

Federals. They certainly appeared to neglect the comfort and cleanliness of the sick intrusted to their care in a

most shameful manner, even after making due allowances for the difficulties of the situation. Many of the

sick were literally encrusted with dirt and filth and covered with vermin. When a gangrenous wound needed

washing, the limb was thrust out a little from the blanket, or board, or rags upon which the patient was lying,

and water poured over it, and all the putrescent matter allowed to soak into the ground floor of the tent. The

supply of rags for dressing wounds was said to be very scant, and I saw the most filthy rags which had been

applied several times, and imperfectly washed, used in dressing wounds. Where hospital gangrene was

prevailing, it was impossible for any wound to escape contagion under these circumstances. The results of the

treatment of wounds in the hospital were of the most unsatisfactory character, from this neglect of

cleanliness, in the dressings and wounds themselves, as well as from various other causes which will be more

fully considered. I saw several gangrenous wounds filled with maggots. I have frequently seen neglected

wounds amongst the Confederate soldiers similarly affected; and as far as my experience extends, these

worms destroy only the dead tissues and do not injure specially the well parts. I have even heard surgeons

affirm that a gangrenous wound which had been thoroughly cleansed by maggots, healed more rapidly than if

it had been left to itself. This want of cleanliness on the part of the nurses appeared to be the result of

carelessness and inattention, rather than of malignant design, and the whole trouble can be traced to the want

of the proper police and sanitary regulations, and to the absence of intelligent organization and division of

labor. The abuses were in a large measure due to the almost total absence of system, government, and rigid,

but wholesome sanitary regulations. In extenuation of these abuses it was alleged by the medical officers that

the Confederate troops were barely sufficient to guard the prisoners, and that it was impossible to obtain any

number of experienced nurses from the Confederate forces. In fact the guard appeared to be too small, even

The manner of disposing of the dead was also calculated to depress the already desponding spirits of these

men, many of whom have been confined for months, and even for nearly two years in Richmond and other

places, and whose strength had been wasted by bad air, bad food, and neglect of personal cleanliness. The

deadhouse is merely a frame covered with old tent cloth and a few bushes, situated in the southwestern

corner of the hospital grounds. When a patient dies, he is simply laid in the narrow street in front of his tent,

until he is removed by Federal negros detailed to carry off the dead; if a patient dies during the night, he lies

there until the morning, and during the day even the dead were frequently allowed to remain for hours in

these walks. In the deadhouse the corpses lie upon the bare ground, and were in most cases covered with

The cooking arrangements are of the most defective character. Five large iron pots similar to those used for

boiling sugar cane, appeared to be the only cooking utensils furnished by the hospital for the cooking of

nearly two thousand men; and the patients were dependent in great measure upon their own miserable

utensils. They were allowed to cook in the tent doors and in the lanes, and this was another source of filth,

and another favorable condition for the generation and multiplication of flies and other vermin.

The air of the tents was foul and disagreeable in the extreme, and in fact the entire grounds emitted a most

nauseous and disgusting smell. I entered nearly all the tents and carefully examined the cases of interest, and

especially the cases of gangrene, upon numerous occasions, during the prosecution of my pathological

inquiries at Andersonville, and therefore enjoyed every opportunity to judge correctly of the hygiene and

There appeared to be almost absolute indifference and neglect on the part of the patients of personal

cleanliness; their persons and clothing inmost instances, and especially of those suffering with gangrene and

scorbutic ulcers, were filthy in the extreme and covered with vermin. It was too often the case that patients

were received from the Stockade in a most deplorable condition. I have seen men brought in from the

Stockade in a dying condition, begrimed from head to foot with their own excrements, and so black from

smoke and filth that they, resembled negros rather than white men. That this description of the Stockade and

hospital has not been overdrawn, will appear from the reports of the surgeons in charge, appended to this

We will examine first the consolidated report of the sick and wounded Federal prisoners. During six months,

from the 1st of March to the 31st of August, fortytwo thousand six hundred and eightysix cases of diseases

and wounds were reported. No classified record of the sick in the Stockade was kept after the establishment

of the hospital without the Prison. This fact, in conjunction with those already presented relating to the

insufficiency of medical officers and the extreme illness and even death of many prisoners in the tents in the

Stockade, without any medical attention or record beyond the bare number of the dead, demonstrate that

As the number of prisoners varied greatly at different periods, the relations between those reported sick and

well, as far as those statistics extend, can best be determined by a comparison of the statistics of each month.

During this period of six months no less than five hundred and sixtyfive deaths are recorded under the head

of 'morbi vanie.' In other words, those men died without having received sufficient medical attention for the

During the month of August fiftythree cases and fiftythree deaths are recorded as due to marasmus. Surely

this large number of deaths must have been due to some other morbid state than slow wasting. If they were

due to improper and insufficient food, they should have been classed accordingly, and if to diarrhea or

dysentery or scurvy, the classification should in like manner have been explicit.

We observe a progressive increase of the rate of mortality, from 3.11 per cent. in March to 9.09 per cent. of

mean strength, sick and well, in August. The ratio of mortality continued to increase during September, for

notwithstanding the removal of onehalf of the entire number of prisoners during the early portion of the

month, one thousand seven hundred and sixtyseven (1,767) deaths are registered from September 1 to 21,

and the largest number of deaths upon any one day occurred during this month, on the 16th, viz. one hundred

The entire number of Federal prisoners confined at Andersonville was about forty thousand six hundred and

eleven; and during the period of near seven months, from February 24 to September 21, nine thousand four

hundred and seventynine (9,479) deaths were recorded; that is, during this period near onefourth, or more,

exactly one in 4.2, or 13.3 per cent., terminated fatally. This increase of mortality was due in great measure to

the accumulation of the sources of disease, as the increase of excrements and filth of all kinds, and the

concentration of noxious effluvia, and also to the progressive effects of salt diet, crowding, and the hot

1st. The great mortality among the Federal prisoners confined in the military prison at Andersonville was not

2d. The chief causes of death were scurvy and its results and bowel affectionschronic and acute diarrhea and

dysentery. The bowel affections appear to have been due to the diet, the habits of the patients, the depressed,

dejected state of the nervous system and moral and intellectual powers, and to the effluvia arising from the

decomposing animal and vegetable filth. The effects of salt meat, and an unvarying diet of cornmeal, with but

few vegetables, and imperfect supplies of vinegar and syrup, were manifested in the great prevalence of

scurvy. This disease, without doubt, was also influenced to an important extent in its origin and course by the

3d. From the sameness of the food and form, the action of the poisonous gases in the densely crowded and

filthy Stockade and hospital, the blood was altered in its constitution, even before the manifestation of actual

disease. In both the well and the sick the red corpuscles were diminished; and in all diseases uncomplicated

with inflammation, the fibrous element was deficient. In cases of ulceration of the mucous membrane of the

intestinal canal, the fibrous element of the blood was increased; while in simple diarrhea, uncomplicated with

ulceration, it was either diminished or else remained stationary. Heart clots were very common, if not

universally present, in cases of ulceration of the intestinal mucous membrane, while in the uncomplicated

cases of diarrhea and scurvy, the blood was fluid and did not coagulate readily, and the heart clots and fibrous

concretions were almost universally absent. From the watery condition of the blood, there resulted various

serous effusions into the pericardium, ventricles of the brain, and into the abdomen. In almost all the cases

which I examined after death, even the most emaciated, there was more or less serous effusion into the

abdominal cavity. In cases of hospital gangrene of the extremities, and in cases of gangrene of the intestines,

heart clots and fibrous coagula were universally present. The presence of those clots in the cases of hospital

gangrene, while they were absent in the cases in which there was no inflammatory symptoms, sustains the

conclusion that hospital gangrene is a species of inflammation, imperfect and irregular though it may be in its

progress, in which the fibrous element and coagulation of the blood are increased, even in those who are

suffering from such a condition of the blood, and from such diseases as are naturally accompanied with a

4th. The fact that hospital Gangrene appeared in the Stockade first, and originated spontaneously without any

previous contagion, and occurred sporadically all over the Stockade and prison hospital, was proof positive

that this disease will arise whenever the conditions of crowding, filth, foul air, and bad diet are present. The

exhalations from the hospital and Stockade appeared to exert their effects to a considerable distance outside

of these localities. The origin of hospital gangrene among these prisoners appeared clearly to depend in great

measure upon the state of the general system induced by diet, and various external noxious influences. The

rapidity of the appearance and action of the gangrene depended upon the powers and state of the constitution,

as well as upon the intensity of the poison in the atmosphere, or upon the direct application of poisonous

matter to the wounded surface. This was further illustrated by the important fact that hospital gangrene, or a

disease resembling it in all essential respects, attacked the intestinal canal of patients laboring under

ulceration of the bowels, although there were no local manifestations of gangrene upon the surface of the

body. This mode of termination in cases of dysentery was quite common in the foul atmosphere of the

Confederate States Military Hospital, in the depressed, depraved condition of the system of these Federal

5th. A scorbutic condition of the system appeared to favor the origin of foul ulcers, which frequently took on

true hospital gangrene. Scurvy and hospital gangrene frequently existed in the same individual. In such cases,

vegetable diet, with vegetable acids, would remove the scorbutic condition without curing the hospital

gangrene. From the results of the existing war for the establishment of the independence of the Confederate

States, as well as from the published observations of Dr. Trotter, Sir Gilbert Blane, and others of the English

navy and army, it is evident that the scorbutic condition of the system, especially in crowded ships and

camps, is most favorable to the origin and spread of foul ulcers and hospital gangrene. As in the present case

of Andersonville, so also in past times when medical hygiene was almost entirely neglected, those two

diseases were almost universally associated in crowded ships. In many cases it was very difficult to decide at

first whether the ulcer was a simple result of scurvy or of the action of the prison or hospital gangrene, for

there was great similarity in the appearance of the ulcers in the two diseases. So commonly have those two

diseases been combined in their origin and action, that the description of scorbutic ulcers, by many authors,

evidently includes also many of the prominent characteristics of hospital gangrene. This will be rendered

evident by an examination of the observations of Dr. Lind and Sir Gilbert Blane upon scorbutic ulcers.

6th. Gangrenous spots followed by rapid destruction of tissue appeared in some cases where there had been

no known wound. Without such well established facts, it might be assumed that the disease was propagated

from one patient to another. In such a filthy and crowded hospital as that of the Confederate States Military

Prison at Andersonville, it was impossible to isolate the wounded from the sources of actual contact of the

gangrenous matter. The flies swarming over the wounds and over filth of every kind, the filthy, imperfectly

washed and scanty supplies of rags, and the limited supply of washing utensils, the same washbowl serving

for scores of patients, were sources of such constant circulation of the gangrenous matter that the disease

might rapidly spread from a single gangrenous wound. The fact already stated, that a form of moist gangrene,

resembling hospital gangrene, was quite common in this foul atmosphere, in cases of dysentery, both with

and without the existence of the disease upon the entire surface, not only demonstrates the dependence of the

disease upon the state of the constitution, but proves in the clearest manner that neither the contact of the

poisonous matter of gangrene, nor the direct action of the poisonous atmosphere upon the ulcerated surfaces

7th. In this foul atmosphere amputation did not arrest hospital gangrene; the disease almost invariably

returned. Almost every amputation was followed finally by death, either from the effects of gangrene or from

the prevailing diarrhea and dysentery. Nitric acid and escharotics generally in this crowded atmosphere,

loaded with noxious effluvia, exerted only temporary effects; after their application to the diseased surfaces,

the gangrene would frequently return with redoubled energy; and even after the gangrene had been

completely removed by local and constitutional treatment, it would frequently return and destroy the patient.

As far as my observation extended, very few of the cases of amputation for gangrene recovered. The progress

of these cases was frequently very deceptive. I have observed after death the most extensive disorganization

of the structures of the stump, when during life there was but little swelling of the part, and the patient was

apparently doing well. I endeavored to impress upon the medical officers the view that in this disease

treatment was almost useless, without an abundant supply of pure, fresh air, nutritious food, and tonics and

stimulants. Such changes, however, as would allow of the isolation of the cases of hospital gangrene appeared

8th. The gangrenous mass was without true pus, and consisted chiefly of brokendown, disorganized

structures. The reaction of the gangrenous matter in certain stages was alkaline.

9th. The best, and in truth the only means of protecting large armies and navies, as well as prisoners, from the

ravages of hospital gangrene, is to furnish liberal supplies of wellcured meat, together with fresh beef and

10th. Finally, this gigantic mass of human misery calls loudly for relief, not only for the sake of suffering

humanity, but also on account of our own brave soldiers now captives in the hands of the Federal

Government. Strict justice to the gallant men of the Confederate Armies, who have been or who may be, so

unfortunate as to be compelled to surrender in battle, demands that the Confederate Government should adopt

that course which will best secure their health and comfort in captivity; or at least leave their enemies without

a shadow of an excuse for any violation of the rules of civilized warfare in the treatment of prisoners.

The variationfrom month to monthof the proportion of deaths to the whole number living is singular

and interesting. It supports the theory I have advanced above, as the following facts, taken from the official

report, will show: In April one in every sixteen died. In May one in every twentysix died. In June one in

every twentytwo died. In July one in every eighteen died. In August one in every eleven died. In September

one in every three died. In October one in every two died. In November one in every three died.

Does the reader fully understand that in September onethird of those in the pen died, that in October

onehalf of the remainder perished, and in November onethird of those who still survived, died? Let him

pause for a moment and read this over carefully again; because its startling magnitude will hardly dawn upon

him at first reading. It is true that the fearfully disproportionate mortality of those months was largely due to

the fact that it was mostly the sick that remained behind, but even this diminishes but little the frightfulness of

the showing. Did any one ever hear of an epidemic so fatal that onethird of those attacked by it in one

month died; onehalf of the remnant the next month, and onethird of the feeble remainder the next month?

The greatest number of deaths in one day is reported to have occurred on the 23d of August, when one

The greatest number of prisoners in the Stockade is stated to have been August 8, when there were

I have always imagined both these statements to be short of the truth, because my remembrance is that one

day in August I counted over two hundred dead lying in a row. As for the greatest number of prisoners, I

remember quite distinctly standing by the ration wagon during the whole time of the delivery of rations, to

see how many prisoners there really were inside. That day the One Hundred and ThirtyThird Detachment

was called, and its Sergeant came up and drew rations for a full detachment. All the other detachments were

habitually kept full by replacing those who died with new comers. As each detachment consisted of two

hundred and seventy men, one hundred and thirtythree detachments would make thirtyfive thousand nine

hundred and ten, exclusive of those in the hospital, and those detailed outside as cooks, clerks, hospital

Certainly, in no other great community, that ever existed upon the face of the globe was there so little daily

ebb and flow as in this. Dull as an ordinary Town or City may be; however monotonous, eventless, even

stupid the lives of its citizens, there is yet, nevertheless, a flow every day of its lifebloodits population

towards its heart, and an ebb of the same, every evening towards its extremities. These recurring tides mingle

all classes together and promote the general healthfulness, as the constant motion hither and yon of the

The lack of these helped vastly to make the living mass inside the Stockade a human Dead Seaor rather a

Dying Seaa putrefying, stinking lake, resolving itself into phosphorescent corruption, like those rotting

southern seas, whose seething filth burns in hideous reds, and ghastly greens and yellows.

Being little call for motion of any kind, and no room to exercise whatever wish there might be in that

direction, very many succumbed unresistingly to the apathy which was so strongly favored by despondency

and the weakness induced by continual hunger, and lying supinely on the hot sand, day in and day out,

speedily brought themselves into such a condition as invited the attacks of disease.

It required both determination and effort to take a little walking exercise. The ground was so densely crowded

with holes and other devices for shelter that it took one at least ten minutes to pick his way through the

narrow and tortuous labyrinth which served as paths for communication between different parts of the Camp.

Still further, there was nothing to see anywhere or to form sufficient inducement for any one to make so

laborious a journey. One simply encountered at every new step the same unwelcome sights that he had just

left; there was a monotony in the misery as in everything else, and consequently the temptation to sit or lie

I used to make it a point to go to some of the remoter parts of the Stockade once every day, simply for

exercise. One can gain some idea of the crowd, and the difficulty of making one's way through it, when I say

that no point in the prison could be more than fifteen hundred feet from where I staid, and, had the way been

clear, I could have walked thither and back in at most a half an hour, yet it usually took me from two to three

This daily trip, a few visits to the Creek to wash all over, a few games of chess, attendance upon roll call,

drawing rations, cooking and eating the same, "lousing" my fragments of clothes, and doing some little duties

for my sick and helpless comrades, constituted the daily routine for myself, as for most of the active youths in

The Creek was the great meeting point for all inside the Stockade. All able to walk were certain to be there at

least once during the day, and we made it a rendezvous, a place to exchange gossip, discuss the latest news,

canvass the prospects of exchange, and, most of all, to curse the Rebels. Indeed no conversation ever

progressed very far without both speaker and listener taking frequent rests to say bitter things as to the Rebels

A conversation between two boysstrangers to each other who came to the Creek to wash themselves or

First Boy"I belong to the Second Corps,Hancock's, [the Army of the Potomac boys always mentioned

what Corps they belonged to, where the Western boys stated their Regiment.] They got me at Spottsylvania,

when they were butting their heads against our breastworks, trying to get even with us for gobbling up

Johnson in the morning,"He stops suddenly and changes tone to say: "I hope to God, that when our folks

get Richmond, they will put old Ben Butler in command of it, with orders to limb, skin and jayhawk it worse

Second Boy, (fervently :) "I wish to God he would, and that he'd catch old Jeff., and that grayheaded devil,

Winder, and the old Dutch Captain, strip 'em just as we were, put 'em in this pen, with just the rations they are

givin' us, and set a guard of plantation niggers over 'em, with orders to blow their whole infernal heads off, if

First Boy(returning to the story of his capture.) "Old Hancock caught the Johnnies that morning the neatest

you ever saw anything in your life. After the two armies had murdered each other for four or five days in the

Wilderness, by fighting so close together that much of the time you could almost shake hands with the

Graybacks, both hauled off a little, and lay and glowered at each other. Each side had lost about twenty

thousand men in learning that if it attacked the other it would get mashed fine. So each built a line of works

and lay behind them, and tried to nag the other into coming out and attacking. At Spottsylvania our lines and

those of the Johnnies weren't twelve hundred yards apart. The ground was clear and clean between them, and

any force that attempted to cross it to attack would be cut to pieces, as sure as anything. We laid there three or

four days watching each otherjust like boys at school, who shake fists and dare each other. At one place

the Rebel line ran out towards us like the top of a great letter 'A.' The night of the 11th of May it rained very

hard, and then came a fog so thick that you couldn't see the length of a company. Hancock thought he'd take

advantage of this. We were all turned out very quietly about four o'clock in the morning. Not a bit of noise

was allowed. We even had to take off our canteens and tin cups, that they might not rattle against our

bayonets. The ground was so wet that our footsteps couldn't be heard. It was one of those deathly, still

"The Johnnies didn't seem to have the faintest suspicion of what was coming, though they ought, because we

would have expected such an attack from them if we hadn't made it ourselves. Their pickets were out just a

little ways from their works, and we were almost on to them before they discovered us. They fired and ran

back. At this we raised a yell and dashed forward at a charge. As we poured over the works, the Rebels came

doublequicking up to defend them. We flanked Johnson's Division quicker'n you could say 'Jack Robinson,'

and had four thousand of 'em in our grip just as nice as you please. We sent them to the rear under guard, and

started for the next line of Rebel works about a half a mile away. But we had now waked up the whole of

Lee's army, and they all came straight for us, like packs of mad wolves. Ewell struck us in the center;

Longstreet let drive at our left flank, and Hill tackled our right. We fell back to the works we had taken,

Warren and Wright came up to help us, and we had it hot and heavy for the rest of the day and part of the

night. The Johnnies seemed so mad over what we'd done that they were half crazy. They charged us five

times, coming up every time just as if they were going to lift us right out of the works with the bayonet.

About midnight, after they'd lost over ten thousand men, they seemed to understand that we had preempted

that piece of real estate, and didn't propose to allow anybody to jump our claim, so they fell back sullen like

to their main works. When they came on the last charge, our Brigadier walked behind each of our regiments

"Boys, we'll send 'em back this time for keeps. Give it to 'em by the acre, and when they begin to waver, we'll

"We did it just that way. We poured such a fire on them that the bullets knocked up the ground in front just

like you have seen the deep dust in a road in the middle of Summer fly up when the first great big drops of a

rain storm strike it. But they came on, yelling and swearing, officers in front waving swords, and

shoutingall that business, you know. When they got to about one hundred yards from us, they did not seem

to be coming so fast, and there was a good deal of confusion among them. The brigade bugle sounded

"We all ceased instantly. The rebels looked up in astonishment. Our General sang out:

"Fix bayonets!' but we knew what was coming, and were already executing the order. You can imagine the

crash that ran down the line, as every fellow snatched his bayonet out and slapped it on the muzzle of his gun.

"We cheered till everything seemed to split, and jumped over the works, almost every man at the same

minute. The Johnnies seemed to have been puzzled at the stoppage of our fire. When we all came sailing over

the works, with guns brought right, down where they meant business, they were so astonished for a minute

that they stood stock still, not knowing whether to come for us, or run. We did not allow them long to debate,

but went right towards them on the double quick, with the bayonets looking awful savage and hungry. It was

too much for Mr. Johnny Reb's nerves. They all seemed to about face' at once, and they lit out of there as if

they had been sent for in a hurry. We chased after 'em as fast as we could, and picked up just lots of 'em.

Finally it began to be real funny. A Johnny's wind would begin to give out he'd fall behind his comrades; he'd

hear us yell and think that we were right behind him, ready to sink a bayonet through him'; he'd turn around,

"I surrender, mister! I surrender!' and find that we were a hundred feet off, and would have to have a bayonet

"Well, my company was the left of our regiment, and our regiment was the left of the brigade, and we swung

out ahead of all the rest of the boys. In our excitement of chasing the Johnnies, we didn't see that we had

passed an angle of their works. About thirty of us had become separated from the company and were chasing

a squad of about seventyfive or one hundred. We had got up so close to them that we hollered:

"We looked around at this, and saw that we were not one hundred feet away from the angle of the works,

which were filled with Rebels waiting for our fellows to get to where they could have a good flank fire upon

them. There was nothing to do but to throw down our guns and surrender, and we had hardly gone inside of

the works, until the Johnnies opened on our brigade and drove it back. This ended the battle at Spottsylvania

Second Boy (irrelevantly.) "Some day the underpinning will fly out from under the South, and let it sink right

First Boy (savagely.) "I only wish the whole Southern Confederacy was hanging over hell by a single string,

I have before mentioned as among the things that grew upon one with increasing acquaintance with the

Rebels on their native heath, was astonishment at their lack of mechanical ski1l and at their inability to

grapple with numbers and the simpler processes of arithmetic. Another characteristic of the same nature was

their wonderful lack of musical ability, or of any kind of tuneful creativeness.

Elsewhere, all over the world, people living under similar conditions to the Southerners are exceedingly

musical, and we owe the great majority of the sweetest compositions which delight the ear and subdue the

senses to unlettered songmakers of the Swiss mountains, the Tyrolese valleys, the Bavarian Highlands, and

The music of Englishspeaking people is very largely made up of these contributions from the folksongs of

dwellers in the wilder and more mountainous parts of the British Isles. One rarely goes far out of the way in

attributing to this source any air that he may hear that captivates him with its seductive opulence of harmony.

Exquisite melodies, limpid and unstrained as the carol of a bird in Springtime, and as plaintive as the cooing

of a turtledove seems as natural products of the Scottish Highlands as the gorse which blazons on their

hillsides in August. Debarred from expressing their aspirations as people of broader culture doin painting,

in sculpture, in poetry and prose, these mountaineers make song the flexible and ready instrument for the

Love, hatred, grief, revenge, anger, and especially war seems to tune their minds to harmony, and awake the

voice of song in them hearts. The battles which the Scotch and Irish fought to replace the luckless Stuarts

upon the British thronethe bloody rebellions of 1715 and 1745, left a rich legacy of sweet song, the

outpouring of loving, passionate loyalty to a wretched cause; songs which are today esteemed and sung

wherever the English language is spoken, by people who have long since forgotten what burning feelings

For a century the bones of both the Pretenders have moldered in alien soil; the names of James Edward, and

Charles Edward, which were once trumpet blasts to rouse armed men, mean as little to the multitude of today

as those of the Saxon Ethelbert, and Danish Hardicanute, yet the world goes on singingand will probably

as long as the English language is spoken"Wha'll be King but Charlie?" "When Jamie Come Hame," "Over

the Water to Charlie," "Charlie is my Darling," "The Bonny Blue Bonnets are Over the Border," "Saddle

Your Steeds and Awa," and a myriad others whose infinite tenderness and melody no modern composer can

Yet these same Scotch and Irish, the same Jacobite English, transplanted on account of their chronic

rebelliousness to the mountains of Virginia, the Carolinas, and Georgia, seem to have lost their tunefulness,

The descendants of those who drew swords for James and Charles at Preston Pans and Culloden dwell today

in the dales and valleys of the Alleganies, as their fathers did in the dales and valleys of the Grampians, but

As a rule the Southerners are fond of music. They are fond of singing and listening to oldfashioned ballads,

most of which have never been printed, but handed down from one generation to the other, like the

'Volklieder' of Germany. They sing these with the wild, fervid impressiveness characteristic of the ballad

singing of unlettered people. Very many play tolerably on the violin and banjo, and occasionally one is found

whose instrumentation may be called good. But above this hight they never soar. The only musician produced

by the South of whom the rest of the country has ever heard, is Blind Tom, the negro idiot. No composer, no

It was a disappointment to me that even the stress of the war, the passion and fierceness with which the

Rebels felt and fought, could not stimulate any adherent of the Stars and Bars into the production of a single

lyric worthy in the remotest degree of the magnitude of the struggle, and the depth of the popular feeling.

Where two million Scotch, fighting to restore the fallen fortunes of the worse than worthless Stuarts, filled

the world with immortal music, eleven million of Southerners, fighting for what they claimed to be individual

freedom and national life, did not produce any original verse, or a bar of music that the world could recognize

as such. This is the fact; and an undeniable one. Its explanation I must leave to abler analysts than I am.

Searching for peculiar causes we find but two that make the South differ from the ancestral home of these

people. These two were Climate and Slavery. Climatic effects will not account for the phenomenon, because

we see that the peasantry of the mountains of Spain and the South of France as ignorant as these people, and

dwellers in a still more enervating atmosphereare very fertile in musical composition, and their songs are to

Then it must be ascribed to the incubus of Slavery upon the intellect, which has repressed this as it has all

other healthy growths in the South. Slavery seems to benumb all the faculties except the passions. The fact

that the mountaineers had but few or no slaves, does not seem to be of importance in the case. They lived

under the deadly shadow of the upas tree, and suffered the consequences of its stunting their development in

all directions, as the aguesmitten inhabitant of the Roman Campana finds every sense and every muscle

clogged by the filtering in of the insidious miasma. They did not compose songs and music, because they did

The negros displayed all the musical creativeness of that section. Their wonderful prolificness in wild, rude

songs, with strangely melodious airs that burned themselves into the memory, was one of the salient

characteristics of that downtrodden race. Like the Russian serfs, and the bondmen of all ages and lands, the

songs they made and sang all had an undertone of touching plaintiveness, born of ages of dumb suffering.

The themes were exceedingly simple, and the range of subjects limited. The joys, and sorrows, hopes and

despairs of love's gratification or disappointment, of struggles for freedom, contests with malign persons and

influences, of rage, hatred, jealousy, revenge, such as form the motifs for the majority of the poetry of free

and strong races, were wholly absent from their lyrics. Religion, hunger and toil were their main inspiration.

They sang of the pleasures of idling in the genial sunshine; the delights of abundance of food; the eternal

happiness that awaited them in the heavenly future, where the slavedriver ceased from troubling and the

weary were at rest; where Time rolled around in endless cycles of days spent in basking, harp in hand, and

silken clad, in golden streets, under the soft effulgence of cloudless skies, glowing with warmth and kindness

emanating from the Creator himself. Had their masters condescended to borrow the music of the slaves, they

would have found none whose sentiments were suitable for the ode of a people undergoing the pangs of what

The three songs most popular at the South, and generally regarded as distinctively Southern, were "The

Bonnie Blue Flag," "Maryland, My Maryland," and "Stonewall Jackson Crossing into Maryland." The first of

these was the greatest favorite by long odds. Women sang, men whistled, and the socalled musicians played

it wherever we went. While in the field before capture, it was the commonest of experiences to have Rebel

women sing it at us tauntingly from the house that we passed or near which we stopped. If ever near enough a

Rebel camp, we were sure to hear its wailing crescendo rising upon the air from the lips or instruments of

some one more quartered there. At Richmond it rang upon us constantly from some source or another, and

All familiar with Scotch songs will readily recognize the name and air as an old friend, and one of the fierce

Jacobite melodies that for a long time disturbed the tranquility of the Brunswick family on the English throne.

The new words supplied by the Rebels are the merest doggerel, and fit the music as poorly as the unchanged

name of the song fitted to its new use. The flag of the Rebellion was not a bonnie blue one; but had quite as

Near in popularity was "Maryland, My Maryland." The versification of this was of a much higher Order,

being fairly respectable. The air is old, and a familiar one to all college students, and belongs to one of the

O, Tannenbaum! O, Tannenbaum, wie tru sind deine Blatter! Da gruenst nicht nur zur Sommerseit, Nein,

O, hemlock tree! O, hemlock tree! how faithful are thy branches! Green not alone in Summer time, But in the

Winter's float and rime. O, hemlock tree O, hemlock tree! how faithful are thy branches. etc.

The despot's heel is on thy shore, Maryland! His touch is at thy temple door, Maryland! Avenge the patriotic

gore That flecked the streets of Baltimore, And be the battle queen of yore, Maryland! My Maryland!

Hark to the wand'ring son's appeal, Maryland! My mother State, to thee I kneel, Maryland! For life and death,

for woe and weal, Thy peerless chivalry reveal, And gird thy beauteous limbs with steel, Maryland! My

Thou wilt not cower in the duet, Maryland! Thy beaming sword shall never rust Maryland! Remember

Carroll's sacred trust, Remember Howard's warlike thrust And all thy slumberers with the just, Maryland!

Come! 'tis the red dawn of the day, Maryland! Come! with thy panoplied array, Maryland! With Ringgold's

spirit for the fray, With Watson's blood at Monterey, With fearless Lowe and dashing May, Maryland! My

Comet for thy shield is bright and strong, Maryland! Come! for thy dalliance does thee wrong, Maryland!

Come! to thins own heroic throng, That stalks with Liberty along, And give a new Key to thy song,

Dear Mother! burst the tyrant's chain, Maryland! Virginia should not call in vain, Maryland! She meets her

sisters on the plain 'Sic semper" 'tis the proud refrain, That baffles millions back amain, Maryland! Arise,

I see the blush upon thy cheek, Maryland! But thou wast ever bravely meek, Maryland! But lo! there surges

forth a shriek From hill to hill, from creek to creek Potomac calls to Chesapeake, Maryland! My

Thou wilt not yield the vandal toll. Maryland! Thou wilt not crook to his control, Maryland! Better the fire

upon thee roll, Better the blade, the shot, the bowl, Than crucifixion of the soul, Maryland! My Maryland!

I hear the distant Thunder hem, Maryland! The Old Line's bugle, fife, and drum. Maryland! She is not dead,

nor deaf, nor dumb Hnzza! she spurns the Northern scum! She breathesshe burns! she'll come! she'll

"Stonewall Jackson Crossing into Maryland," was another travesty, of about the same literary merit, or rather

demerit, as "The Bonnie Blue Flag." Its air was that of the wellknown and popular negro minstrel song,"

Billy Patterson." For all that, it sounded very martial and stirring when played by a brass band.

We heard these songs with tiresome iteration, daily and nightly, during our stay in the Southern Confederacy.

Some one of the guards seemed to be perpetually beguiling the weariness of his watch by singing in all keys,

in every sort of a voice, and with the wildest latitude as to air and time. They became so terribly irritating to

us, that to this day the remembrance of those soullacerating lyrics abides with me as one of the chief of the

We revenged ourselves as best we could by constructing fearfully wicked, obscene and insulting parodies on

these, and by singing them with irritating effusiveness in the hearing of the guards who were inflicting these

Of the same nature was the garrison music. One fife, played by an asthmatic old fellow whose breathings

were nearly as audible as his notes, and one rheumatic drummer, constituted the entire band for the post. The

fifer actually knew but one tune "The Bonnie Blue Flag" and did not know that well. But it was all that he

had, and he played it with wearisome monotony for every camp callfive or six times a day, and seven days

in the week. He called us up in the morning with it for a reveille; he sounded the "roll call" and "drill call,"

breakfast, dinner and supper with it, and finally sent us to bed, with the same dreary wail that had rung in our

ears all day. I never hated any piece of music as I came to hate that threnody of treason. It would have been

such a relief if the, old asthmatic who played it could have been induced to learn another tune to play on

Sundays, and give us one day of rest. He did not, but desecrated the Lord's Day by playing as vilely as on the

rest of the week. The Rebels were fully conscious of their musical deficiencies, and made repeated but

unsuccessful attempts to induce the musicians among the prisoners to come outside and form a band.

"Illinoy,"said tall, gaunt Jack North, of the One Hundred and Fourteenth Illinois, to me, one day, as we sat

contemplating our naked, and sadly attenuated underpinning; "what do our legs and feet most look most

"Whydarning needles stuck in pumpkin seeds, of course." I never heard a better comparison for our wasted

The effects of the great bodily emaciation were sometimes very startling. Boys of a fleshy habit would

change so in a few weeks as to lose all resemblance to their former selves, and comrades who came into

prison later would utterly fail to recognize them. Most fat men, as most large men, died in a little while after

entering, though there were exceptions. One of these was a boy of my own company, named George Hillicks.

George had shot up within a few years to over six feet in hight, and then, as such boys occasionally do, had,

after enlisting with us, taken on such a development of flesh that we nicknamed him the "Giant," and he

became a pretty good load for even the strongest horse. George held his flesh through Belle Isle, and the

earlier weeks in Andersonville, but June, July, and August "fetched him," as the boys said. He seemed to melt

away like an icicle on a Spring day, and he grew so thin that his hight seemed preternatural. We called him

"Flagstaff," and cracked all sorts of jokes about putting an insulator on his head, and setting him up for a

telegraph pole, braiding his legs and using him for a whip lash, letting his hair grow a little longer, and

trading him off to the Rebels for a sponge and staff for the artillery, etc. We all expected him to die, and

looked continually for the development of the fatal scurvy symptoms, which were to seal his doom. But he

worried through, and came out at last in good shape, a happy result due as much as to anything else to his

having in Chester Hayward, of Prairie City, Ill.,one of the most devoted chums I ever knew. Chester

nursed and looked out for George with wifelike fidelity, and had his reward in bringing him safe through

our lines. There were thousands of instances of this generous devotion to each other by chums in

Andersonville, and I know of nothing that reflects any more credit upon our boy soldiers.

There was little chance for any one to accumulate flesh on the rations we were receiving. I say it in all

soberness that I do not believe that a healthy hen could have grown fat upon them. I am sure that any good

sized "shanghai" eats more every day than the meager half loaf that we had to maintain life upon. Scanty as

this was, and hungry as all were, very many could not eat it. Their stomachs revolted against the trash; it

became so nauseous to them that they could not force it down, even when famishing, and they died of

starvation with the chunks of the so called bread under their head. I found myself rapidly approaching this

condition. I had been blessed with a good digestion and a talent for sleeping under the most discouraging

circumstances. These, I have no doubt, were of the greatest assistance to me in my struggle for existence. But

now the rations became fearfully obnoxious to me, and it was only with the greatest effortpulling the bread

into little pieces and swallowing each, of these as one would a pillthat I succeeded in worrying the stuff

down. I had not as yet fallen away very much, but as I had never, up, to that time, weighed so much as one

hundred and twenty five pounds, there was no great amount of adipose to lose. It was evident that unless

There was not only hunger for more food, but longing with an intensity beyond expression for alteration of

some kind in the rations. The changeless monotony of the miserable saltless bread, or worse mush, for days,

weeks and months, became unbearable. If those wretched mule teams had only once a month hauled in

something differentif they had come in loaded with sweet potatos, green corn or wheat flour, there would

be thousands of men still living who now slumber beneath those melancholy pines. It would have given

something to look forward to, and remember when past. But to know each day that the gates would open to

admit the same distasteful apologies for food took away the appetite and raised one's gorge, even while

We could for a while forget the stench, the lice, the heat, the maggots, the dead and dying around us, the

insulting malignance of our jailors; but it was, very hard work to banish thoughts and longings for food from

our minds. Hundreds became actually insane from brooding over it. Crazy men could be found in all parts of

the camp. Numbers of them wandered around entirely naked. Their babblings and maunderings about

something to eat were painful to hear. I have before mentioned the case of the Plymouth Pilgrim near me,

whose insanity took the form of imagining that he was sitting at the table with his family, and who would go

through the show of helping them to imaginary viands and delicacies. The cravings for green food of those

afflicted with the scurvy were, agonizing. Large numbers of watermelons were brought to the prison, and sold

to those who had the money to pay for them at from one to five dollars, greenbacks, apiece. A boy who had

means to buy a piece of these would be followed about while eating it by a crowd of perhaps twentyfive or

thirty livid gummed scorbutics, each imploring him for the rind when he was through with it.

We thought of food all day, and were visited with torturing dreams of it at night. One of the pleasant

recollections of my premilitary life was a banquet at the "Planter's House," St. Louis, at which I was a

boyish guest. It was, doubtless, an ordinary affair, as banquets go, but to me then, with all the keen

appreciation of youth and first experience, it was a feast worthy of Lucullus. But now this delightful

reminiscence became a torment. Hundreds of times I dreamed I was again at the "Planter's." I saw the wide

corridors, with their mosaic pavement; I entered the grand diningroom, keeping timidly near the friend to

whose kindness I owed this wonderful favor; I saw again the mirrorlined walls, the evergreen decked

ceilings, the festoons and mottos, the tables gleaming with cutglass and silver, the buffets with wines and

fruits, the brigade of sleek, black, whiteaproned waiters, headed by one who had presence enough for a

major General. Again I reveled in all the dainties and dishes on the billoffare; calling for everything that I

dared to, just to see what each was like, and to be able to say afterwards that I had partaken of it; all these

bewildering delights of the first realization of what a boy has read and wondered much over, and longed for,

would dance their rout and reel through my somnolent brain. Then I would awake to find myself a

halfnaked, halfstarved, vermineaten wretch, crouching in a hole in the ground, waiting for my keepers to

Naturally the boysand especially the country boys and new prisoners talked much of victualswhat

they had had, and what they would have again, when they got out. Take this as a sample of the conversation

which might be heard in any group of boys, sitting together on the sand, killin lice and talking of exchange:

Tom"Well, Bill, when we get back to God's country, you and Jim and John must all come to my house and

take dinner with me. I want to give you a square meal. I want to show you just what good livin' is. You know

my mother is just the best cook in all that section. When she lays herself out to get up a meal all the other

Bill"O, that's all right; but I'll bet she can't hold a candle to my mother, when it comes to good cooking."

John(with patronizing contempt.) "O, shucks! None of you fellers were ever at our house, even when we

Tom(unheedful of the counter claims.) I hev teen studyin' up the dinner I'd like, and the billoffare I'd set

out for you fellers when you come over to see me. First, of course, we'll lay the foundation like with a nice,

Bill(interrupting.) "Now, do you like mashed potatos with beef? The way may mother does is to pare the

potatos, and lay them in the pan along with the beef. Then, you know, they come out just as nice and crisp,

and brown,; they have soaked up all the beef gravy, and they crinkle between your teeth"

Jim"Now, I tell you, mashed Neshannocks with butter on 'em is plenty good enough for me."

John"If you'd et some of the new kind of peachblows that we raised in the old pasture lot the year before I

Tom(taking breath and starting in fresh.) "Then we'll hev some fried Spring chickens, of our dominick

breed. Them dominicks of ours have the nicest, tenderest meat, better'n quail, a darned sight, and the way my

Bill(aside to Jim.) "Every durned woman in the country thinks she can 'spry ching frickens;' but my

John"You fellers all know that there's nobody knows half as much about chicken doin's as these 'tinerant

Methodis' preachers. They give 'em chicken wherever they go, and folks do say that out in the new

settlements they can't get no preachin', no gospel, nor nothin', until the chickens become so plenty that a

preacher is reasonably sure of havin' one for his dinner wherever he may go. Now, there's old Peter

Cartwright, who has traveled over Illinoy and Indianny since the Year One, and preached more good sermons

than any other man who ever set on saddlebags, and has et more chickens than there are birds in a big

pigeon roost. Well, he took dinner at our house when he came up to dedicate the big, white church at

Simpkin's Corners, and when he passed up his plate the third time for more chicken, he sez, sez he:I've et

at a great many hundred tables in the fifty years I have labored in the vineyard of the Redeemer, but I must

say, Mrs. Kiggins, that your way of frying chickens is a leetle the nicest that I ever knew. I only wish that the

sisters generally would get your reseet.' Yes, that's what he said,'a leetle the nicest.'"

Tom"An' then, we'll hev biscuits an' butter. I'll just bet five hundred dollars to a cent, and give back the

cent if I win, that we have the best butter at our house that there is in Central Illinoy. You can't never hev

good butter onless you have a spring house; there's no use of talkin'all the patent churns that lazy men ever

inventedall the fancy milk pans an' coolers, can't make up for a spring house. Locations for a spring house

are scarcer than hen's teeth in Illinoy, but we hev one, and there ain't a better one in Orange County, New

Tom(coming in again with fresh vigor) "They're jest as light an' fluffy as a dandelion puff, and they melt in

your month like a ripe Bartlett pear. You just pull 'em open[Now you know that I think there's nothin' that

shows a person's raisin' so well as to see him eat biscuits an' butter. If he's been raised mostly on corn bread,

an' common doins,' an' don't know much about good things to eat, he'll most likely cut his biscuit open with a

case knife, an' make it fall as flat as one o' yesterday's pancakes. But if he is used to biscuits, has had 'em

often at his house, he'lljust pull 'em open, slow an' easy like, then he'll lay a little slice of butter inside, and

drop a few drops of clear honey on this, an' stick the two halves back, together again, an"

"Oh, for God Almighty's sake, stop talking that infernal nonsense," roar out a half dozen of the surrounding

crowd, whose mouths have been watering over this unctuous recital of the good things of the table. "You

blamed fools, do you want to drive yourselves and everybody else crazy with such stuff as that. Dry up and

Early in August, F. Marriott, our Company Bugler, died. Previous to coming to America he had been for

many years an English soldier, and I accepted him as a type of that stolid, doggedly brave class, which forms

the bulk of the English armies, and has for centuries carried the British flag with dauntless courage into every

land under the sun. Rough, surly and unsocial, he did his duty with the unemotional steadiness of a machine.

He knew nothing but to obey orders, and obeyed them under all circumstances promptly, but with stony

impassiveness. With the command to move forward into action, he moved forward without a word, and with

face as blank as a side of sole leather. He went as far as ordered, halted at the word, and retired at command

as phlegmatically as he advanced. If he cared a straw whether he advanced or retreated, if it mattered to the

extent of a pinch of salt whether we whipped the Rebels or they defeated us, he kept that feeling so deeply

hidden in the recesses of his sturdy bosom that no one ever suspected it. In the excitement of action the rest of

the boys shouted, and swore, and expressed their tense feelings in various ways, but Marriott might as well

have been a graven image, for all the expression that he suffered to escape. Doubtless, if the Captain had

ordered him to shoot one of the company through the heart, he would have executed the command according

to the manual of arms, brought his carbine to a "recover," and at the word marched back to his quarters

without an inquiry as to the cause of the proceedings. He made no friends, and though his surliness repelled

us, he made few enemies. Indeed, he was rather a favorite, since he was a genuine character; his gruffness

had no taint of selfish greed in it; he minded his own business strictly, and wanted others to do the same.

When he first came into the company, it is true, he gained the enmity of nearly everybody in it, but an

incident occurred which turned the tide in his favor. Some annoying little depredations had been practiced on

the boys, and it needed but a word of suspicion to inflame all their minds against the surly Englishman as the

unknown perpetrator. The feeling intensified, until about half of the company were in a mood to kill the

Bugler outright. As we were returning from stable duty one evening, some little occurrence fanned the

smoldering anger into a fierce blaze; a couple of the smaller boys began an attack upon him; others hastened

He succeeded in disengaging himself from his assailants, and, squaring himself off, said, defiantly:

"Dom yer cowardly heyes; jest come hat me one hat a time, hand hI'll wollop the 'ole gang uv ye's."

One of our Sergeants styled himself proudly "a Chicago rough," and was as vain of his pugilistic abilities as a

small boy is of a father who plays in the band. We all hated him cordiallyeven more than we did Marriott.

He thought this was a good time to show off, and forcing his way through the crowd, he said, vauntingly:

The ring was formed, with the Bugler and the Sergeant in the center. Though the latter was the younger and

stronger the first round showed him that it would have profited him much more to have let Marriott's

challenge pass unheeded. As a rule, it is as well to ignore all invitations of this kind from Englishmen, and

especially from those who, like Marriott, have served a term in the army, for they are likely to be so handy

with their fists as to make the consequences of an acceptance more lively than desirable.

So the Sergeant found. "Marriott," as one of the spectators expressed it, "went around him like a cooper

around a barrel." He planted his blows just where he wished, to the intense delight of the boys, who yelled

enthusiastically whenever he got in "a hot one," and their delight at seeing the Sergeant drubbed so

Thenceforward we viewed his eccentricities with lenient eyes, and became rather proud of his bulldog

stolidity and surliness. The whole battalion soon came to share this feeling, and everybody enjoyed hearing

his deeptoned growl, which mischievous boys would incite by some petty annoyances deliberately designed

for that purpose. I will mention incidentally, that after his encounter with the Sergeant no one ever again

Andersonville did not improve either his temper or his communicativeness. He seemed to want to get as far

away from the rest of us as possible, and took up his quarters in a remote corner of the Stockade, among utter

strangers. Those of us who wandered up in his neighborhood occasionally, to see how he was getting along,

were received with such scant courtesy, that we did not hasten to repeat the visit. At length, after none of us

had seen him for weeks, we thought that comradeship demanded another visit. We found him in the last

stages of scurvy and diarrhea. Chunks of uneaten corn bread lay by his head. They were at least a week old.

The rations since then had evidently been stolen from the helpless man by those around him. The place where

he lay was indescribably filthy, and his body was swarming with vermin. Some good Samaritan had filled his

little black oyster can with water, and placed it within his reach. For a week, at least, he had not been able to

rise from the ground; he could barely reach for the water near him. He gave us such a glare of recognition as I

remembered to have seen light up the fastdarkening eyes of a savage old mastiff, that I and my boyish

companions once found dying in the woods of disease and hurts. Had he been able he would have driven us

away, or at least assailed us with biting English epithets. Thus he had doubtless driven away all those who

had attempted to help him. We did what little we could, and staid with him until the next afternoon, when he

died. We prepared his body, in the customary way: folded the hands across his breast, tied the toes together,

and carried it outside, not forgetting each of us, to bring back a load of wood.

The scarcity of mechanics of all kinds in the Confederacy, and the urgent needs of the people for many things

which the war and the blockade prevented their obtaining, led to continual inducements being offered to the

artizans among us to go outside and work at their trade. Shoemakers seemed most in demand; next to these

blacksmiths, machinists, molders and metal workers generally. Not a week passed during my imprisonment

that I did not see a Rebel emissary of some kind about the prison seeking to engage skilled workmen for

some purpose or another. While in Richmond the managers of the Tredegar Iron Works were brazen and

persistent in their efforts to seduce what are termed "malleable iron workers," to enter their employ. A boy

who was master of any one of the commoner trades had but to make his wishes known, and he would be

allowed to go out on parole to work. I was a printer, and I think that at least a dozen times I was approached

by Rebel publishers with offers of a parole, and work at good prices. One from Columbia, S. C., offered me

two dollars and a half a "thousand" for composition. As the highest price for such work that I had received

before enlisting was thirty cents a thousand, this seemed a chance to accumulate u4told wealth. Since a man

working in day time can set from thirtyfive to fifty "thousand" a week, this would make weekly wages run

from eightyseven dollars and fifty cents to one hundred and twentyfive dollarsbut it was in Confederate

Still better offers were made to iron workers of all kinds, to shoemakers, tanners, weavers, tailors, hatters,

engineers, machinists, millers, railroad men, and similar tradesmen. Any of these could have made a

handsome thing by accepting the offers made them almost weekly. As nearly all in the prison had useful

trades, it would have been of immense benefit to the Confederacy if they could have been induced to work at

them. There is no measuring the benefit it would have been to the Southern cause if all the hundreds of

tanners and shoemakers in the Stockade could have, been persuaded to go outside and labor in providing

leather and shoes for the almost shoeless people and soldiery. The machinists alone could have done more

good to the Southern Confederacy than one of our brigades was doing harm, by consenting to go to the

railroad shops at Griswoldville and ply their handicraft. The lack of material resources in the South was one

of the strongest allies our arms had. This lack of resources was primarily caused by a lack of skilled labor to

develop those resources, and nowhere could there be found a finer collection of skilled laborers than in the

All solicitations to accept a parole and go outside to work at one's trade were treated with the scorn they

deserved. If any mechanic yielded to them, the fact did not come under my notice. The usual reply to

"No, Sir! By God, I'll stay in here till I rot, and the maggots carry me out through the cracks in the Stockade,

before I'll so much as raise my little finger to help the infernal Confederacy, or Rebels, in any shape or form."

In August a Macon shoemaker came in to get some of his trade to go back with him to work in the

Confederate shoe factory. He prosecuted his search for these until he reached the center of the camp on the

North Side, when some of the shoemakers who had gathered around him, apparently considering his

propositions, seized him and threw him into a well. He was kept there a whole day, and only released when

Wirz cut off the rations of the prison for that day, and announced that no more would be issued until the man

The terrible crowding was somewhat ameliorated by the opening in July of an additionsix hundred feet

longto the North Side of the Stockade. This increased the room inside to twenty acres, giving about an acre

to every one thousand seven hundred men,a preposterously contracted area still. The new ground was not a

hotbed of virulent poison like the olds however, and those who moved on to it had that much in their favor.

The palisades between the new and the old portions of the pen were left standing when the new portion was

opened. We were still suffering a great deal of inconvenience from lack of wood. That night the standing

timbers were attacked by thousands of prisoners armed with every species of a tool to cut wood, from a

caseknife to an ax. They worked the live long night with such energy that by morning not only every inch

of the logs above ground had disappeared, but that below had been dug up, and there was not enough left of

One afternoonearly in Augustone of the violent rain storms common to that section sprung up, and in a

little while the water was falling in torrents. The little creek running through the camp swelled up immensely,

and swept out large gaps in the Stockade, both in the west and east sides. The Rebels noticed the breaches as

soon as the prisoners. Two guns were fired from the Star Tort, and all the guards rushed out, and formed so as

to prevent any egress, if one was attempted. Taken by surprise, we were not in a condition to profit by the

The storm did one good thing: it swept away a great deal of filth, and left the camp much more wholesome.

The foul stench rising from the camp made an excellent electrical conductor, and the lightning struck several

Toward the end of August there happened what the religously inclined termed a Providential Dispensation.

The water in the Creek was indescribably bad. No amount of familiarity with it, no increase of intimacy with

our offensive surroundings, could lessen the disgust at the polluted water. As I have said previously, before

the stream entered the Stockade, it was rendered too filthy for any use by the contaminations from the camps

of the guards, situated about a halfmile above. Immediately on entering the Stockade the contamination

became terrible. The oozy seep at the bottom of the hillsides drained directly into it all the mass of filth from

a population of thirtythree thousand. Imagine the condition of an open sewer, passing through the heart of a

city of that many people, and receiving all the offensive product of so dense a gathering into a shallow,

sluggish stream, a yard wide and five inches deep, and heated by the burning rays of the sun in the

thirtysecond degree of latitude. Imagine, if one can, without becoming sick at the stomach, all of these

There is not a scintilla of exaggeration in this statement. That it is within the exact truth is demonstrable by

the testimony of any manRebel or Unionwho ever saw the inside of the Stockade at Andersonville. I am

quite content to have its truthas well as that of any other statement made in this bookbe determined by

the evidence of any one, no matter how bitter his hatred of the Union, who had any personal knowledge of

the condition of affairs at Andersonville. No one can successfully deny that there were at least thirtythree

thousand prisoners in the Stockade, and that the one shallow, narrow creek, which passed through the prison,

was at once their main sewer and their source of supply of water for bathing, drinking and washing. With

these main facts admitted, the reader's common sense of natural consequences will furnish the rest of the

It is true that some of the more fortunate of us had wells; thanks to our own energy in overcoming

extraordinary obstacles; no thanks to our gaolers for making the slightest effort to provide these necessities of

life. We dug the wells with case and pocket knives, and half canteens to a depth of from twenty to thirty feet,

pulling up the dirt in pantaloons legs, and running continual risk of being smothered to death by the caving in

of the unwalled sides. Not only did the Rebels refuse to give us boards with which to wall the wells, and

buckets for drawing the water, but they did all in their power to prevent us from digging the wells, and made

continual forays to capture the digging tools, because the wells were frequently used as the starting places for

tunnels. Professor Jones lays special stress on this tunnel feature in his testimony, which I have introduced in

The great majority of the prisoners who went to the Creek for water, went as near as possible to the Dead

Line on the West Side, where the Creek entered the Stockade, that they might get water with as little filth in it

as possible. In the crowds struggling there for their turn to take a dip, some one nearly every day got so close

to the Dead Line as to arouse a suspicion in the guard's mind that he was touching it. The suspicion was the

unfortunate one's death warrant, and also its execution. As the sluggish brain of the guard conceived it he

leveled his gun; the distance to his victim was not over one hundred feet; he never failed his aim; the first

warning the wretched prisoner got that he was suspected of transgressing a prisonrule was the charge of

"ballandbuck" that tore through his body. It was lucky if he was, the only one of the group killed. More

wicked and unjustifiable murders never were committed than these almost daily assassinations at the Creek.

One morning the camp was astonished beyond measure to discover that during the night a large, bold spring

had burst out on the North Side, about midway between the Swamp and the summit of the hill. It poured out

its grateful flood of pure, sweet water in an apparently exhaustless quantity. To the many who looked in

wonder upon it, it seemed as truly a heavenwrought miracle as when Moses's enchanted rod smote the

The police took charge of the spring, and every one was compelled to take his regular turn in filling his

vessel. This was kept up during our whole stay in Andersonville, and every morning, shortly after daybreak, a

thousand men could be seen standing in line, waiting their turns to fill their cans and cups with the precious

I am told by comrades who have revisited the Stockade of recent years, that the spring is yet running as when

we left, and is held in most pious veneration by the negros of that vicinity, who still preserve the tradition of

its miraculous origin, and ascribe to its water wonderful grace giving and healing properties, similar to those

which pious Catholics believe exist in the holy water of the fountain at Lourdes.

I must confess that I do not think they are so very far from right. If I could believe that any water was sacred

and thaumaturgic, it would be of that fountain which appeared so opportunely for the benefit of the perishing

thousands of Andersonville. And when I hear of people bringing water for baptismal purposes from the

Jordan, I say in my heart, "How much more would I value for myself and friends the administration of the

chrismal sacrament with the diviner flow from that low sandhill in Western Georgia.

Every morning after rollcall, thousands of sick gathered at the South Gate, where the doctors made some

pretense of affording medical relief. The scene there reminded me of the illustrations in my SundaySchool

lessons of that time when "great multitudes came unto Him," by the shores of the Sea of Galilee, "having

with them those that were lame, blind, dumb, maimed, and many others." Had the crowds worn the flouting

robes of the East, the picture would have lacked nothing but the presence of the Son of Man to make it

complete. Here were the burning sands and parching sun; hither came scores of groups of three or four

comrades, laboriously staggering under the weight of a blanket in which they had carried a disabled and

dying friend from some distant part of the Stockade. Beside them hobbled the scorbutics with swollen and

distorted limbs, each more loathsome and nearer death than the lepers whom Christ's divine touch made

whole. Dozens, unable to walk, and having no comrades to carry them, crawled painfully along, with frequent

stops, on their hands and knees. Every, form of intense physical suffering that it is possible for disease to

induce in the human frame was visible at these daily parades of the sick of the prison. As over three thousand

(three thousand and seventysix) died in August, there were probably twelve thousand dangerously sick at

any given time daring the month; and a large part of these collected at the South Gate every morning.

Measurablycalloused as we had become by the daily sights of horror around us, we encountered spectacles

in these gatherings which no amount of visible misery could accustom us to. I remember one especially that

burned itself deeply into my memory. It was of a young man not over twentyfive, who a few weeks

agohis clothes looked comparatively new had evidently been the picture of manly beauty and youthful

vigor. He had had a wellknit, lithe form; dark curling hair fell over a forehead which had once been fair, and

his eyes still showed that they had gleamed with a bold, adventurous spirit. The red clover leaf on his cap

showed that he belonged to the First Division of the Second Corps, the three chevrons on his arm that he was

a Sergeant, and the stripe at his cuff that he was a veteran. Some kindhearted boys had found him in a

miserable condition on the North Side, and carried him over in a blanket to where the doctors could see him.

He had but little clothing on, save his blouse and cap. Ulcers of some kind had formed in his abdomen, and

these were now masses of squirming worms. It was so much worse than the usual forms of suffering, that

quite a little crowd of compassionate spectators gathered around and expressed their pity. The sufferer turned

"Comrade: If we were only under the old Stars and Stripes, we wouldn't care a Gd dn for a few worms,

This was not profane. It was an utterance from the depths of a brave man's heart, couched in the strongest

language at his command. It seemed terrible that so gallant a soul should depart from earth in this miserable

fashion. Some of us, much moved by the sight, went to the doctors and put the case as strongly as possible,

begging them to do something to alleviate his suffering. They declined to see the case, but got rid of us by

giving us a bottle of turpentine, with directions to pour it upon the ulcers to kill the maggots. We did so. It

must have been cruel torture, and as absurd remedially as cruel, but our hero set his teeth and endured,

I said the doctors made a pretense of affording medical relief. It was hardly that, since about all the

prescription for those inside the Stockade consisted in giving a handful of sumach berries to each of those

complaining of scurvy. The berries might have done some good, had there been enough of them, and had

their action been assisted by proper food. As it was, they were probably nearly, if not wholly, useless.

A limited number of the worst cases were admitted to the Hospital each day. As this only had capacity for

about onequarter of the sick in the Stockade, new patients could only be admitted as others died. It seemed,

anyway, like signing a man's death warrant to send him to the Hospital, as three out of every four who went

out there died. The following from the official report of the Hospital shows this:

Total number admitted .........................................12,900 Died ................................................. 8,663

Exchanged ............................................ 828 Took the oath of allegiance .......................... 25 Sent elsewhere

Early in August I made a successful effort to get out to the Hospital. I had several reasons for this: First, one

of my chums, W. W. Watts, of my own company, had been sent out a little whale before very sick with

scurvy and pneumonia, and I wanted to see if I could do anything for him, if he still lived: I have mentioned

before that for awhile after our entrance into Andersonville five of us slept on one overcoat and covered

ourselves with one blanket. Two of these had already died, leaving as possessors ofthe blanket and overcoat,

Next, I wanted to go out to see if there was any prospect of escape. I had long since given up hopes of

escaping from the Stockade. All our attempts at tunneling had resulted in dead failures, and now, to make us

wholly despair of success in that direction, another Stockade was built clear around the prison, at a distance

of one hundred and twenty feet from the first palisades. It was manifest that though we might succeed in

I had the scurvy rather badly, and being naturally slight in frame, I presented a very sick appearance to the

While this was a wretched affair, it was still a vast improvement on the Stockade. About five acres of ground,

a little southeast of the Stockade, and bordering on a creek, were enclosed by a board fence, around which the

guard walked, trees shaded the ground tolerably well. There were tents and flies to shelter part of the sick,

and in these were beds made of pine leaves. There were regular streets and alleys running through the

grounds, and as the management was in the hands of our own men, the place was kept reasonably clean and

There was also some improvement in the food. Rice in some degree replaced the nauseous and innutritious

corn bread, and if served in sufficient quantities, would doubtless have promoted the recovery of many men

dying from dysenteric diseases. We also received small quantities of "okra," a plant peculiar to the South,

whose pods contained a mucilaginous matter that made a soup very grateful to those suffering from scurvy.

But all these ameliorations of condition were too slight to even arrest the progress of the disease of the

thousands of dying men brought out from the Stockade. These still wore the same liceinfested garments as

in prison; no baths or even ordinary applications of soap and water cleaned their dirtgrimed skins, to give

their pores an opportunity to assist in restoring them to health; even their long, lank and matted hair,

swarming with vermin, was not trimmed. The most ordinary and obvious measures for their comfort and care

were neglected. If a man recovered he did it almost in spite of fate. The medicines given were scanty and

crude. The principal remedial agentas far as my observation extendedwas a rank, fetid species of

unrectified spirits, which, I was told, was made from sorgum seed. It had a lightgreen tinge, and was about

as inviting to the taste as spirits of turpentine. It was given to the sick in small quantities mixed with water. I

had had some experience with Kentucky "applejack," which, it was popularly believed among the boys,

would dissolve a piece of the fattest pork thrown into it, but that seemed balmy and oily alongside of this.

After tasting some, I ceased to wonder at the atrocities of Wirz and his associates. Nothing would seem too

[For a more particular description of the Hospital I must refer my reader to the testimony of Professor Jones,

Certainly this continent has never seenand I fervently trust it will never again seesuch a gigantic

concentration of misery as that Hospital displayed daily. The official statistics tell the story of this with

terrible brevity: There were three thousand seven hundred and nine in the Hospital in August; one thousand

four hundred and eightyninenearly every other man died. The rate afterwards became much higher than

The most conspicuous suffering was in the gangrene wards. Horrible sores spreading almost visibly from

hour to hour, devoured men's limbs and bodies. I remember one ward in which the alterations appeared to be

altogether in the back, where they ate out the tissue between the skin and the ribs. The attendants seemed

trying to arrest the progress of the sloughing by drenching the sores with a solution of blue vitriol. This was

exquisitely painful, and in the morning, when the drenching was going on, the whole hospital rang with the

But the gangrene mostly attacked the legs and arms, and the led more than the arms. Sometimes it killed men

inside of a week; sometimes they lingered on indefinitely. I remember one man in the Stockade who cut his

hand with the sharp corner of a card of corn bread he was lifting from the ration wagon; gangrene set in

One form that was quit prevalent was a cancer of the lower one corner of the mouth, and it finally ate the

whole side of the face out. Of course the sufferer had the greatest trouble in eating and drinking. For the latter

it was customary to whittle out a little wooden tube, and fasten it in a tin cup, through which he could suck up

the water. As this mouth cancer seemed contagious, none of us would allow any one afflicted with it to use

any of our cooking utensils. The Rebel doctors at the hospital resorted to wholesale amputations to check the

They had a two hours session of limblopping every morning, each of which resulted in quite a pile of

severed members. I presume more bungling operations are rarely seen outside of Russian or Turkish

hospitals. Their unskilfulness was apparent even to nonscientific observers like myself. The standard of

medical education in the Southas indeed of every other form of educationwas quite low. The Chief

Surgeon of the prison, Dr. Isaiah White, and perhaps two or three others, seemed to be gentlemen of fair

abilities and attainments. The remainder were of that class of illiterate and unlearning quacks who physic and

blister the poor whites and negros in the country districts of the South; who believe they can stop bleeding of

the nose by repeating a verse from the Bible; who think that if in gathering their favorite remedy of boneset

they cut the stem upwards it will purge their patients, and if downward it will vomit them, and who hold that

there is nothing so good for "fits" as a black cat, killed in the dark of the moon, cut open, and bound while yet

They had a case of instruments captured from some of our field hospitals, which were dull and fearfully out

of order. With poor instruments and unskilled hands the operations became mangling.

In the Hospital I saw an admirable illustration of the affection which a sailor will lavish on a ship's boy,

whom he takes a fancy to, and makes his "chicken," as the phrase is. The United States sloop "Water Witch"

had recently been captured in Ossabaw Sound, and her crew brought into prison. One of her boysa bright,

handsome little fellow of about fifteenhad lost one of his arms in the fight. He was brought into the

Hospital, and the old fellow whose"chicken" he was, was allowed to accompany and nurse him. This "old

barnacleback" was as surly a growler as ever went aloft, but to his "chicken" he was as tender and

thoughtful as a woman. They found a shady nook in one corner, and any moment one looked in that direction

he could see the old tar hard at work at something for the comfort and pleasure of his pet. Now he was

dressing the wound as deftly and gently as a mother caring for a newborn babe; now he was trying to

concoct some relish out of the slender materials he could beg or steal from the Quartermaster; now trying to

arrange the shade of the bed of pine leaves in a more comfortable manner; now repairing or washing his

All the sailors were particularly favored by being allowed to bring their bags in untouched by the guards. This

"chicken" had a wonderful supply of clothes, the handiwork of his protector who, like most good sailors, was

very skillful with the needle. He had suits of fine white duck, embroidered with blue in a way that would

ravish the heart of a fine lady, and blue suits similarly embroidered with white. No belle ever kept her clothes

in better order than these were. When the duck came up from the old sailor's patient washing it was as

I found my chum in a very bad condition. His appetite was entirely gone, but he had an inordinate craving for

tobaccofor strong, black plug which he smoked in a pipe. He had already traded off all his brass buttons

to the guards for this. I had accumulated a few buttons to bribe the guard to take me out for wood, and I gave

these also for tobacco for him. When I awoke one morning the man who laid next to me on the right was

dead, having died sometime during the night. I searched his pockets and took what was in them. These were a

silk pocket handkerchief, a gutta percha fingerring, a comb, a pencil, and a leather pocketbook, making in

all quite a nice little "find." I hied over to the guard, and succeeded in trading the personal estate which I had

inherited from the intestate deceased, for a handful of peaches, a handful of hardly ripe figs, and a long plug

of tobacco. I hastened back to Watts, expecting that the figs and peaches would do him a world of good. At

first I did not show him the tobacco, as I was strongly opposed to his using it, thinking that it was making him

much worse. But he looked at the tempting peaches and figs with lackluster eyes; he was too far gone to

I then produced the tobacco, and his face lighted up. Concluding that this was all the comfort that he could

have, and that I might as well gratify him, I cut up some of the weed, filled his pipe and lighted it. He smoked

calmly and almost happily all the afternoon, hardly speaking a word to me. As it grew dark he asked me to

"Mc, this thing's ended. Tell my father that I stood it as long as I could, and"

The death rattle sounded in his throat, and when I laid him back it was all over. Straightening out his limbs,

folding his hands across his breast, and composing his features as best I could, I lay, down beside the body

and slept till morning, when I did what little else I could toward preparing for the grave all that was left of my

After Watt's death, I set earnestly about seeing what could be done in the way of escape. Frank Harvey, of the

First West Virginia Cavalry, a boy of about my own age and disposition, joined with me in the scheme. I was

still possessed with my original plan of making my way down the creeks to the Flint River, down the Flint

River to where it emptied into the Appalachicola River, and down that stream to its debauchure into the bay

that connected with the Gulf of Mexico. I was sure of finding my way by this route, because, if nothing else

offered, I could get astride of a log and float down the current. The way to Sherman, in the other direction,

was long, torturous and difficult, with a fearful gauntlet of bloodhounds, patrols and the scouts of Hood's

Army to be run. I had but little difficulty in persuading Harvey into an acceptance of my views, and we began

arranging for a solution of the first great problemhow to get outside of the Hospital guards. As I have

explained before, the Hospital was surrounded by a board fence, with guards walking their beats on the

ground outside. A small creek flowed through the southern end of the grounds, and at its lower end was used

as a sink. The boards of the fence came down to the surface of the water, where the Creek passed out, but we

found, by careful prodding with a stick, that the hole between the boards and the bottom of the Creek was

sufficiently large to allow the passage of our bodies, and there had been no stakes driven or other precautions

used to prevent egress by this channel. A guard was posted there, and probably ordered to stand at the edge of

the stream, but it smelled so vilely in those scorching days that he had consulted his feelings and probably his

health, by retiring to the top of the bank, a rod or more distant. We watched night after night, and at last were

Then we waited for the moon to come right, so that the first part of the night should be dark. This took

several days, but at last we knew that the next night she would not rise until between 9 and 10 o'clock, which

would give us nearly two hours of the dense darkness of a moonless Summer night in the South. We had first

thought of saving up some rations for the trip, but then reflected that these would be ruined by the filthy water

into which we must sink to go under the fence. It was not difficult to abandon the food idea, since it was very

hard to force ourselves to lay by even the smallest portion of our scanty rations.

As the next day wore on, our minds were wrought up into exalted tension by the rapid approach of the

supreme moment, with all its chances and consequences. The experience of the past few months was not such

as to mentally fit us for such a hazard. It prepared us for sullen, uncomplaining endurance, for calmly

contemplating the worst that could come; but it did not strengthen that fiber of mind that leads to

venturesome activity and daring exploits. Doubtless the weakness of our bodies reacted upon our spirits. We

contemplated all the perils that confronted us; perils that, now looming up with impending nearness, took a

We considered the desperate chances of passing the guard unseen; or, if noticed, of escaping his fire without

death or severe wounds. But supposing him fortunately evaded, then came the gauntlet of the hounds and the

patrols hunting deserters. After this, a long, weary journey, with bare feet and almost naked bodies, through

an unknown country abounding with enemies; the dangers of assassination by the embittered populace; the

risks of dying with hunger and fatigue in the gloomy depths of a swamp; the scanty hopes that, if we reached

Not one of all these contingencies failed to expand itself to all its alarming proportions, and unite with its

fellows to form a dreadful vista, like the valleys filled with demons and genii, dragons and malign

enchantments, which confront the heros of the "Arabian Nights," when they set out to perform their exploits.

But behind us lay more miseries and horrors than a riotous imagination could conceive; before us could

certainly be nothing worse. We would put life and freedom to the hazard of a touch, and win or lose it all.

The day had been intolerably hot. The sun's rays seemed to sear the earth, like heated irons, and the air that

lay on the burning sand was broken by wavy lines, such as one sees indicate the radiation from a hot stove.

Except the wretched chaingang plodding torturously back and forward on the hillside, not a soul nor an

animal could be seen in motion outside the Stockade. The hounds were panting in their kennel; the Rebel

officers, half or wholly drunken with villainous sorgum whisky, were stretched at full length in the shade at

headquarters; the halfcaked gunners crouched under the shadow of the embankments of the forts, the guards

hung limply over the Stockade in front of their little perches; the thirty thousand boys inside the Stockade,

prone or supine upon the glowing sand, gasped for breathfor one draft of sweet, cool, wholesome air that

did not bear on its wings the subtle seeds of rank corruption and death. Everywhere was the prostration of

Only the sick moved; only the painracked cried out; only the dying struggled; only the agonies of

Harvey and I, lying in the scanty shade of the trunk of a tall pine, and with hearts filled with solicitude as to

the outcome of what the evening would bring us, looked out over the scene as we had done daily for long

months, and remained silent for hours, until the sun, as if weary with torturing and slaying, began going down

in the blazing West. The groans of the thousands of sick around us, the shrieks of the rotting ones in the

As the sun disappeared, and the heat abated, the suspended activity was restored. The Master of the Hounds

came out with his yelping pack, and started on his rounds; the Rebel officers aroused themselves from their

siesta and went lazily about their duties; the fifer produced his cracked fife and piped forth his unvarying

"Bonnie Blue Flag," as a signal for dress parade, and drums beaten by unskilled hands in the camps of the

different regiments, repeated the signal. In time Stockade the mass of humanity became full of motion as an

ant hill, and resembled it very much from our point of view, with the boys threading their way among the

It was becoming dark quite rapidly. The moments seemed galloping onward toward the time when we must

make the decisive step. We drew from the dirty rag in which it was wrapped the little piece of corn bread that

we had saved for our supper, carefully divided it into two equal parts, and each took one and ate it in silence.

This done, we held a final consultation as to our plans, and went over each detail carefully, that we might

fully understand each other under all possible circumstances, and act in concert. One point we laboriously

impressed upon each other, and that was; that under no circumstances were we to allow ourselves to be

tempted to leave the Creek until we reached its junction with the Flint River. I then picked up two pine

leaves, broke them off to unequal lengths, rolled them in my hands behind my back for a second, and

We made a tour of reconnaissance. Everything seemed as usual, and wonderfully calm compared with the

tumult in our minds. The Hospital guards were pacing their beats lazily; those on the Stockade were drawling

Inside the Stockade was a Babel of sounds, above all of which rose the melody of religious and patriotic

songs, sung in various parts of the camp. From the headquarters came the shouts and laughter of the Rebel

officers having a little "frolic" in the cool of the evening. The groans of the sick around us were gradually

hushing, as the abatement of the terrible heat let all but the worst cases sink into a brief slumber, from which

they awoke before midnight to renew their outcries. But those in the Gangrene wards seemed to be denied

even this scanty blessing. Apparently they never slept, for their shrieks never ceased. A multitude of

whippoorwills in the woods around us began their usual dismal cry, which had never seemed so unearthly

It was, now quite dark, and we stole noiselessly down to the Creek and reconnoitered. We listened. The guard

was not pacing his beat, as we could not hear his footsteps. A large, illshapen lump against the trunk of one

of the trees on the bank showed that he was leaning there resting himself. We watched him for several

minutes, but he did not move, and the thought shot into our minds that he might be asleep; but it seemed

Now, if ever, was the opportunity. Harney squeezed my hand, stepped noiselessly into the Creek, laid himself

gently down into the filthy water, and while my heart was beating so that I was certain it could be heard some

distance from me, began making toward the fence. He passed under easily, and I raised my eyes toward the

guard, while on my strained ear fell the soft plashing made by Harvey as he pulled himself cautiously

forward. It seemed as if the sentinel must hear this; he could not help it, and every second I expected to see

the black lump address itself to motion, and the musket flash out fiendishly. But he did not; the lump

When I thought that Harvey had gained a sufficient distance I followed. It seemed as if the disgusting water

would smother me as I laid myself down into it, and such was my agitation that it appeared almost impossible

that I should escape making such a noise as would attract the guard's notice. Catching hold of the roots and

limbs at the side of the stream, I pulled myself slowly along, and as noiselessly as possible.

I passed under the fence without difficulty, and was outside, and within fifteen feet of the guard. I had lain

down into the creek upon my right side, that my face might be toward the guard, and I could watch him

As I came under the fence he was still leaning motionless against the tree, but to my heated imagination he

appeared to have turned and be watching me. I hardly breathed; the filthy water rippling past me seemed to

roar to attract the guard's attention; I reached my hand out cautiously to grasp a root to pull myself along by,

and caught instead a dry branch, which broke with a loud crack. My heart absolutely stood still. The guard

evidently heard the noise. The black lump separated itself from the tree, and a straight line which I knew to

be his musket separated itself from the lump. In a brief instant I lived a year of mortal apprehension. So

certain was I that he had discovered me, and was leveling his piece to fire, that I could scarcely restrain

myself from springing up and dashing away to avoid the shot. Then I heard him take a step, and to my

unutterable surprise and relief, he walked off farther from the Creek, evidently to speak to the man whose

I pulled away more swiftly, but still with the greatest caution, until after halfanhour's painful effort I had

gotten fully one hundred and fifty yards away from the Hospital fence, and found Harney crouched on a

We waited there a few minutes, until I could rest, and calm my perturbed nerves down to something nearer

their normal equilibrium, and then started on. We hoped that if we were as lucky in our next step as in the

first one we would reach the Flint River by daylight, and have a good long start before the morning rollcall

revealed our absence. We could hear the hounds still baying in the distance, but this sound was too customary

But our progress was terribly slow. Every step hurt fearfully. The Creek bed was full of roots and snags, and

briers, and vines trailed across it. These caught and tore our bare feet and legs, rendered abnormally tender by

the scurvy. It seemed as if every step was marked with blood. The vines tripped us, and we frequently fell

headlong. We struggled on determinedly for nearly an hour, and were perhaps a mile from the Hospital.

The moon came up, and its light showed that the creek continued its course through a dense jungle like that

we had been traversing, while on the high ground to our left were the open pine woods I have previously

We stopped and debated for a few minutes. We recalled our promise to keep in the Creek, the experience of

other boys who had tried to escape and been caught by the hounds. If we staid in the Creek we were sure the

hounds would not find our trail, but it was equally certain that at this rate we would be exhausted and starved

before we got out of sight of the prison. It seemed that we had gone far enough to be out of reach of the packs

patrolling immediately around the Stockade, and there could be but little risk in trying a short walk on the dry

ground. We concluded to take the chances, and, ascending the bank, we walked and ran as fast as we could

All at once it struck me that with all our progress the hounds sounded as near as when we started. I shivered

at the thought, and though nearly ready to drop with fatigue, urged myself and Harney on.

An instant later their baying rang out on the still night air right behind us, and with fearful distinctness. There

was no mistake now; they had found our trail, and were running us down. The change from fearful

At the next breath the hounds came bursting through the woods in plain sight, and in full cry. We obeyed our

first impulse; rushed back into the swamp, forced our way for a few yards through the fleshtearing

impediments, until we gained a large cypress, upon whose great knees we climbedthoroughly

exhaustedjust as the yelping pack reached the edge of the water, and stopped there and bayed at us. It was

In a moment the lowbrowed villain who had charge of the hounds came galloping up on his mule, tooting

There was no help for it. We climbed down off the knees and started towards the land. As we neared it, the

hounds became almost frantic, and it seemed as if we would be torn to pieces the moment they could reach

us. But the master dismounted and drove them back. He was surly even savageto us, but seemed in too

much hurry to get back to waste any time annoying us with the dogs. He ordered us to get around in front of

the mule, and start back to camp. We moved as rapidly as our fatigue and our lacerated feet would allow us,

and before midnight were again in the hospital, fatigued, filthy, torn, bruised and wretched beyond

Harney and I were specially fortunate in being turned back into the Stockade without being brought before

We subsequently learned that we owed this good luck to Wirz's absence on sick leavehis place being

supplied by Lieutenant Davis, a moderate brained Baltimorean, and one of that horde of Marylanders in the

Rebel Army, whose principal service to the Confederacy consisted in working themselves into "bombproof"

places, and forcing those whom they displaced into the field. Winder was the illustrious head of this crowd of

bombproof Rebels from "Maryland, My Maryland!" whose enthusiasm for the Southern cause and

consistency in serving it only in such places as were out of range of the Yankee artillery, was the subject of

many bitter jibes by the Rebelsespecially by those whose secure berths they possessed themselves of.

Lieutenant Davis went into the war with great brashness. He was one of the mob which attacked the Sixth

Massachusetts in its passage through Baltimore, but, like all of that class of roughs, he got his stomach full of

war as soon as the real business of fighting began, and he retired to where the chances of attaining a ripe old

age were better than in front of the Army of the Potomac's muskets. We shall hear of Davis again.

Encountering Captain Wirz was one of the terrors of an abortive attempt to escape. When recaptured

prisoners were brought before him he would frequently give way to paroxysms of screaming rage, so violent

as to closely verge on insanity. Brandishing the fearful and wonderful revolverof which I have spoken in

such a manner as to threaten the luckless captives with instant death, he would shriek out imprecations,

curses; and foul epithets in French, German and English, until he fairly frothed at the mouth. There were

plenty of stories current in camp of his having several times given away to his rage so far as to actually shoot

men down in these interviews, and still more of his knocking boys down and jumping upon them, until he

inflicted injuries that soon resulted in death. How true these rumors were I am unable to say of my own

personal knowledge, since I never saw him kill any one, nor have I talked with any one who did. There were

a number of cases of this kind testified to upon his trial, but they all happened among "paroles" outside the

Stockade, or among the prisoners inside after we left, so I knew nothing of them.

One of the Old Switzer's favorite ways of ending these seances was to inform the boys that he would have

them shot in an hour or so, and bid them prepare for death. After keeping them in fearful suspense for hours

he would order them to be punished with the stocks, the ballandchain, the chaingang, orif his fierce

mood had burned itself entirely out as was quite likely with a man of his shallop' brain and vacillating

Nothing, I am sure, since the days of the Inquisitionor still later, since the terrible punishments visited

upon the insurgents of 1848 by the Austrian aristocratshas been so diabolical as the stocks and chain

gangs, as used by Wirz. At one time seven men, sitting in the stocks near the Star Fortin plain view of the

campbecame objects of interest to everybody inside. They were never relieved from their painful position,

but were kept there until all of them died. I think it was nearly two weeks before the last one succumbed.

What they endured in that time even imagination cannot conceiveI do not think that an Indian tribe ever

The chaingang consisted of a number of menvarying from twelve to twentyfive, all chained to one

sixtyfour pound ball. They were also stationed near the Star Fort, standing out in the hot sun, without a

particle of shade over them. When one moved they all had to move. They were scourged with the dysentery,

and the necessities of some one of their number kept them constantly in motion. I can see them distinctly yet,

tramping laboriously and painfully back and forward over that burning hillside, every moment of the long,

A comrade writes to remind me of the beneficent work of the Masonic Order. I mention it most gladly, as it

was the sole recognition on the part of any of our foes of our claims to human kinship. The churches of all

denominationsexcept the solitary Catholic priest, Father Hamilton, ignored us as wholly as if we were

dumb beasts. Lay humanitarians were equally indifferent, and the only interest manifested by any Rebel in

the welfare of any prisoner was by the Masonic brotherhood. The Rebel Masons interested themselves in

securing details outside the Stockade in the cookhouse, the commissary, and elsewhere, for the brethren

among the prisoners who would accept such favors. Such as did not feel inclined to go outside on parole

received frequent presents in the way of food, and especially of vegetables, which were literally beyond price.

Materials were sent inside to build tents for the Masons, and I think such as made themselves known before

death, received burial according to the rites of the Order. Doctor White, and perhaps other Surgeons,

belonged to the fraternity, and the wearing of a Masonic emblem by a new prisoner was pretty sure to catch

their eyes, and be the means of securing for the wearer the tender of their good offices, such as a detail into

I was not fortunate enough to be one of the mystic brethren, and so missed all share in any of these benefits,

as well as in any others, and I take special pride in one thing: that during my whole imprisonment I was not

beholden to a Rebel for a single favor of any kind. The Rebel does not live who can say that he ever gave me

so much as a handful of meal, a spoonful of salt, an inch of thread, or a stick of wood. From first to last I

received nothing but my rations, except occasional trifles that I succeeded in stealing from the stupid officers

charged with issuing rations. I owe no man in the Southern Confederacy gratitude for anythingnot even for

Speaking of secret society pins recalls a noteworthy story which has been told me since the war, of boys

whom I knew. At the breaking out of hostilities there existed in Toledo a festive little secret society, such as

lurking boys frequently organize, with no other object than fun and the usual adolescent love of mystery.

There were a dozen or so members in it who called themselves "The Royal Reubens," and were headed by a

bookbinder named Ned Hopkins. Some one started a branch of the Order in Napoleon, O., and among the

members was Charles E. Reynolds, of that town. The badge of the society was a peculiarly shaped gold pin.

Reynolds and Hopkins never met, and had no acquaintance with each other. When the war broke out,

Hopkins enlisted in Battery H, First Ohio Artillery, and was sent to the Army of the Potomac, where he was

captured, in the Fall of 1863, while scouting, in the neighborhood of Richmond. Reynolds entered the

SixtyEighth Ohio Volunteer Infantry, and was taken in the neighborhood of Jackson, Miss.,two thousand

miles from the place of Hopkins's capture. At Andersonville Hopkins became one of the officers in charge of

the Hospital. One day a Rebel Sergeant, who called the roll in the Stockade, after studying Hopkins's pin a

This aroused Hopkins's interest, and he went inside in search of the other "feller." Having his squad and

detachment there was little difficulty in finding him. He recognized the pin, spoke to its wearer, gave him the

"grand hailing sign" of the "Royal Reubens," and it was duly responded to. The upshot of the matter was that

he took Reynolds out with him as clerk, and saved his life, as the latter was going down hill very rapidly.

Reynolds, in turn, secured the detail of a comrade of the SixtyEighth who was failing fast, and succeeded in

saving his lifeall of which happy results were directly attributable to that insignificant boyish society, and

Along in the last of August the Rebels learned that there were between two and three hundred Captains and

Lieutenants in the Stockade, passing themselves off as enlisted men. The motive of these officers was two

fold: first, a chivalrous wish to share the fortunes and fate of their boys, and second, disinclination to gratify

the Rebels by the knowledge of the rank of their captives. The secret was so well kept that none of us

suspected it until the fact was announced by the Rebels themselves. They were taken out immediately, and

sent to Macon, where the commissioned officers' prison was. It would not do to trust such possible leaders

I have in other places dwelt upon the insufficiency and the nauseousness of the food. No words that I can use,

no insistence upon this theme, can give the reader any idea of its mortal importance to us.

Let the reader consider for a moment the quantity, quality, and variety of food that he now holds to be

necessary for the maintenance of life and health. I trust that every one who peruses this bookthat every one

in fact over whom the Stars and Stripes wavehas his cup of coffee, his biscuits and his beefsteak for

breakfasta substantial dinner of roast or boiledand a lighter, but still sufficient meal in the evening. In

all, certainly not less than fifty different articles are set before him during the day, for his choice as elements

of nourishment. Let him scan this extended billoffare, which long custom has made so common place as

to be uninterestingperhaps even wearisome to think about and see what he could omit from it, if

necessity compelled him. After a reluctant farewell to fish, butter, eggs, milk, sugar, green and preserved

fruits, etc., he thinks that perhaps under extraordinary circumstances he might be able to merely sustain life

for a limited period on a diet of bread and meat three times a day, washed down with creamless, unsweetened

coffee, and varied occasionally with additions of potatos, onions, beans, etc. It would astonish the Innocent to

have one of our veterans inform him that this was not even the first stage of destitution; that a soldier who

had these was expected to be on the summit level of contentment. Any of the boys who followed Grant to

Appomattox Court House, Sherman to the Sea, or "Pap" Thomas till his glorious career culminated with the

annihilation of Hood, will tell him of many weeks when a slice of fat pork on a piece of "hard tack" had to do

duty for the breakfast of beefsteak and biscuits; when another slice of fat pork and another cracker served for

the dinner of roast beef and vegetables, and a third cracker and slice of pork was a substitute for the supper of

I say to these veterans in turn that they did not arrive at the first stages of destitution compared with the

depths to which we were dragged. The restriction for a few weeks to a diet of crackers and fat pork was

certainly a hardship, but the crackers alone, chemists tell us, contain all the elements necessary to support life,

and in our Army they were always well made and very palatable. I believe I risk nothing in saying that one of

the ordinary square crackers of our Commissary Department contained much more real nutriment than the

I have before compared the size, shape and appearance of the daily half loaf of corn bread issued to us to a

halfbrick, and I do not yet know of a more fitting comparison. At first we got a small piece of rusty bacon

along with this; but the size of this diminished steadily until at last it faded away entirely, and during the last

six months of our imprisonment I do not believe that we received rations of meat above a halfdozen times.

To this smallness was added ineffable badness. The meal was ground very coarsely, by dull, weakly

propelled stones, that imperfectly crushed the grains, and left the tough, hard coating of the kernels in large,

sharp, micalike scales, which cut and inflamed the stomach and intestines, like handfuls of pounded glass.

The alimentary canals of all compelled to eat it were kept in a continual state of irritation that usually

That I have not overstated this evil can be seen by reference to the testimony of so competent a scientific

observer as Professor Jones, and I add to that unimpeachable testimony the following extract from the

statement made in an attempted defense of Andersonville by Doctor R. Randolph Stevenson, who styles

himself, formerly Surgeon in the Army of the Confederate States of America, Chief Surgeon of the

V. From the sameness of the food, and from the action of the poisonous gases in the densely crowded and

filthy Stockade and Hospital, the blood was altered in its constitution, even, before the manifestation of actual

In both the well and the sick, the red corpuscles were diminished; and in all diseases uncomplicated with

inflammation, the fibrinous element was deficient. In cases of ulceration of the mucous membrane of the

intestinal canal, the fibrinous element of the blood appeared to be increased; while in simple diarrhea,

uncomplicated with ulceration, and dependent upon the character of the food and the existence of scurvy, it

was either diminished or remained stationary. Heartclots were very common, if not universally present, in

the cases of ulceration of the intestinal mucous membrane; while in the uncomplicated cases of diarrhea and

scurvy, the blood was fluid and did not coagulate readily, and the heartclots and fibrinous concretions were

almost universally absent. From the watery condition of the blood there resulted various serous effusions into

the pericardium, into the ventricles of the brain, and into the abdominal cavity.

In almost all cases which I examined after death, even in the most emaciated, there was more or less serous

effusion into the abdominal cavity. In cases of hospital gangrene of the extremities, and in cases of gangrene

of the intestines, heartclots and firm coagula were universally present. The presence of these clots in the

cases of hospital gangrene, whilst they were absent in the cases in which there were no inflammatory

symptoms, appears to sustain the conclusion that hospital gangrene is a species of inflammation (imperfect

and irregular though it may be in its progress), in which the fibrinous element and coagulability of the blood

are increased, even in those who are suffering from such a condition of the blood and from such diseases as

VI. The impoverished condition of the blood, which led to serous effusions within the ventricles of the brain,

and around the brain and spinal cord, and into the pericardial and abdominal cavities, was gradually induced

The Federal prisoners, as a general rule, had been reared upon wheat bread and Irish potatos; and the Indian

corn so extensively used at the South, was almost unknown to them as an article of diet previous to their

capture. Owing to the impossibility of obtaining the necessary sieves in the Confederacy for the separation of

the husk from the cornmeal, the rations of the Confederate soldiers, as well as of the Federal prisoners,

consisted of unbolted cornflour, and meal and grist; this circumstance rendered the cornbread still more

disagreeable and distasteful to the Federal prisoners. While Indian meal, even when prepared with the husk, is

one of the most wholesome and nutritious forms of food, as has been already shown by the health and rapid

increase of the Southern population, and especially of the negros, previous to the present war, and by the

strength, endurance and activity of the Confederate soldiers, who were throughout the war confined to a great

extent to unbolted corn meal; it is nevertheless true that those who have not been reared upon cornmeal, or

who have not accustomed themselves to its use gradually, become excessively tired of this kind of diet when

suddenly confined to it without a due proportion of wheat bread. Large numbers of the Federal prisoners

appeared to be utterly disgusted with Indian corn, and immense piles of cornbread could be seen in the

Stockade and Hospital inclosures. Those who were so disgusted with this form of food that they had no

appetite to partake of it, except in quantities insufficient to supply the waste of the tissues, were, of course, in

the condition of men slowly starving, notwithstanding that the only farinaceous form of food which the

Confederate States produced in sufficient abundance for the maintenance of armies was not withheld from

them. In such cases, an urgent feeling of hunger was not a prominent symptom; and even when it existed at

first, it soon disappeared, and was succeeded by an actual loathing of food. In this state the muscular strength

was rapidly diminished, the tissues wasted, and the thin, skeletonlike forms moved about with the

appearance of utter exhaustion and dejection. The mental condition connected with long confinement, with

the most miserable surroundings, and with no hope for the future, also depressed all the nervous and vital

actions, and was especially active in destroying the appetite. The effects of mental depression, and of

defective nutrition, were manifested not only in the slow, feeble motions of the wasted, skeletonlike forms,

but also in such lethargy, listlessness, and torpor of the mental faculties as rendered these unfortunate men

oblivious and indifferent to their afflicted condition. In many cases, even of the greatest apparent suffering

and distress, instead of showing any anxiety to communicate the causes of their distress, or to relate their

privations, and their longings for their homes and their friends and relatives, they lay in a listless, lethargic,

uncomplaining state, taking no notice either of their own distressed condition, or of the gigantic mass of

human misery by which they were surrounded. Nothing appalled and depressed me so much as this silent,

uncomplaining misery. It is a fact of great interest, that notwithstanding this defective nutrition in men

subjected to crowding and filth, contagious fevers were rare; and typhus fever, which is supposed to be

generated in just such a state of things as existed at Andersonville, was unknown. These facts, established by

my investigations, stand in striking contrast with such a statement as the following by a recent English writer:

"A deficiency of food, especially of the nitrogenous part, quickly leads to the breaking up of the animal

frame. Plague, pestilence and famine are associated with each other in the public mind, and the records of

every country show how closely they are related. The medical history of Ireland is remarkable for the

illustrations of how much mischief may be occasioned by a general deficiency of food. Always the habitat of

fever, it every now and then becomes the very hotbed of its propagation and development. Let there be but a

small failure in the usual imperfect supply of food, and the lurking seeds of pestilence are ready to burst into

frightful activity. The famine of the present century is but too forcible and illustrative of this. It fostered

epidemics which have not been witnessed in this generation, and gave rise to scenes of devastation and

misery which are not surpassed by the most appalling epidemics of the Middle Ages. The principal form of

the scourge was known as the contagious famine fever (typhus), and it spread, not merely from end to end of

the country in which it had originated, but, breaking through all boundaries, it crossed the broad ocean, and

made itself painfully manifest in localities where it was previously unknown. Thousands fell under the

virulence of its action, for wherever it came it struck down a seventh of the people, and of those whom it

attacked, one out of nine perished. Even those who escaped the fatal influence of it, were left the miserable

While we readily admit that famine induces that state of the system which is the most susceptible to the

action of fever poisons, and thus induces the state of the entire population which is most favorable for the

rapid and destructive spread of all contagious fevers, at the same time we are forced by the facts established

by the present war, as well as by a host of others, both old and new, to admit that we are still ignorant of the

causes necessary for the origin of typhus fever. Added to the imperfect nature of the rations issued to the

Federal prisoners, the difficulties of their situation were at times greatly increased by the sudden and

desolating Federal raids in Virginia, Georgia, and other States, which necessitated the sudden transportation

from Richmond and other points threatened of large bodies of prisoners, without the possibility of much

previous preparation; and not only did these men suffer in transition upon the dilapidated and overburdened

line of railroad communication, but after arriving at Andersonville, the rations were frequently insufficient to

supply the sudden addition of several thousand men. And as the Confederacy became more and more pressed,

and when powerful hostile armies were plunging through her bosom, the Federal prisoners of Andersonville

suffered incredibly during the hasty removal to Millen, Savannah, Charleston, and other points, supposed at

the time to be secure from the enemy. Each one of these causes must be weighed when an attempt is made to

VII. Scurvy, arising from sameness of food and imperfect nutrition, caused, either directly or indirectly,

Not only were the deaths referred to unknown causes, to apoplexy, to anasarca, and to debility, traceable to

scurvy and its effects; and not only was the mortality in smallpox, pneumonia, and typhoid fever, and in all

acute diseases, more than doubled by the scorbutic taint, but even those all but universal and deadly bowel

affections arose from the same causes, and derived their fatal character from the same conditions which

produced the scurvy. In truth, these men at Andersonville were in the condition of a crew at sea, confined in a

foul ship upon salt meat and unvarying food, and without fresh vegetables. Not only so, but these unfortunate

prisoners were men forcibly confined and crowded upon a ship tossed about on a stormy ocean, without a

rudder, without a compass, without a guidingstar, and without any apparent boundary or to their voyage;

and they reflected in their steadily increasing miseries the distressed condition and waning fortunes of

devastated and bleeding country, which was compelled, in justice to her own unfortunate sons, to hold these

I saw nothing in the scurvy which prevailed so universally at Andersonville, at all different from this disease

as described by various standard writers. The mortality was no greater than that which has afflicted a hundred

ships upon long voyages, and it did not exceed the mortality which has, upon me than one occasion, and in a

much shorter period of time, annihilated large armies and desolated beleaguered cities. The general results of

my investigations upon the chronic diarrhea and dysentery of the Federal prisoners of Andersonville were

IX. Drugs exercised but little influence over the progress and fatal termination of chronic diarrhea and

dysentery in the Military Prison and Hospital at Andersonville, chiefly because the proper form of

nourishment (milk, rice, vegetables, antiscorbutics, and nourishing animal and vegetable soups) was not

issued, and could not be procured in sufficient quantities for the sick prisoners.

Opium allayed pain and checked the bowels temporarily, but the frail dam was soon swept away, and the

patient appears to be but little better, if not the worse, for this merely palliative treatment. The root of the

difficulty could not be reached by drugs; nothing short of the wanting elements of nutrition would have

tended in any manner to restore the tone of the digestive system, and of all the wasted and degenerated organs

and tissues. My opinion to this effect was expressed most decidedly to the medical officers in charge of these

unfortunate men. The correctness of this view was sustained by the healthy and robust condition of the

paroled prisoners, who received an extra ration, and who were able to make considerable sums by trading,

X. The fact that hospital gangrene appeared in the Stockade first, and originated spontaneously, without any

previous contagion, and occurred sporadically all over the Stockade and Prison Hospital, was proof positive

that this disease will arise whenever the conditions of crowding, filth, foul air, and bad diet are present.

The exhalations from the Hospital and Stockade appeared to exert their effects to a considerable distance

outside of these localities. The origin of gangrene among these prisoners appeared clearly to depend in great

measure upon the state of the general system, induced by diet, exposure, neglect of personal cleanliness; and

by various external noxious influences. The rapidity of the appearance and action of the gangrene depended

upon the powers and state of the constitution, as well as upon the intensity of the poison in the atmosphere, or

upon the direct application of poisonous matter to the wounded surface. This was further illustrated by the

important fact, that hospital gangrene, or a disease resembling this form of gangrene, attacked the intestinal

canal of patients laboring under ulceration of the bowels, although there were no local manifestations of

gangrene upon the surface of the body. This mode of termination in cases of dysentery was quite common in

the foul atmosphere of the Confederate States Military Prison Hospital; and in the depressed, depraved

condition of the system of these Federal prisoners, death ensued very rapidly after the gangrenous state of the

XI. A scorbutic condition of the system appeared to favor the origin of foul ulcers, which frequently took on

Scurvy and gangrene frequently existed in the same individual. In such cases, vegetable diet with vegetable

acids would remove the scorbutic condition without curing the hospital gangrene. . . Scurvy consists not only

in an alteration in the constitution of the blood, which leads to passive hemorrhages from the bowels, and the

effusion into the various tissues of a deeplycolored fibrinous exudation; but, as we have conclusively shown

by postmortem examination, this state is attended with consistence of the muscles of the heart, and the

mucous membrane of the alimentary canal, and of solid parts generally. We have, according to the extent of

the deficiency of certain articles of food, every degree of scorbutic derangement, from the most fearful

depravation of the blood and the perversion of every function subserved by the blood to those slight

derangements which are scarcely distinguishable from a state of health. We are as yet ignorant of the true

nature of the changes of the blood and tissues in scurvy, and wide field for investigation is open for the

determination the characteristic changesphysical, chemical, and physiologicalof the blood and tissues,

and of the secretions and excretions of scurvy. Such inquiries would be of great value in their bearing upon

the origin of hospital gangrene. Up to the present war, the results of chemical investigations upon the

pathology of the blood in scurvy were not only contradictory, but meager, and wanting in that careful detail

of the cases from which the blood was abstracted which would enable us to explain the cause of the apparent

discrepancies in different analyses. Thus it is not yet settled whether the fibrin is increased or diminished in

this disease; and the differences which exist in the statements of different writers appear to be referable to the

neglect of a critical examination and record of all the symptoms of the cases from which the blood was

abstracted. The true nature of the changes of the blood in scurvy can be established only by numerous

analyses during different stages of the disease, and followed up by carefully performed and recorded

postmortem examinations. With such data we could settle such important questions as whether the increase of

XII. Gangrenous spots, followed by rapid destruction of tissue, appeared in some cases in which there had

been no previous or existing wound or abrasion; and without such well established facts, it might be assumed

that the disease was propagated from one patient to another in every case, either by exhalations from the

In such a filthy and crowded hospital as that of the Confederate, States Military Prison of Camp Sumter,

Andersonville, it was impossible to isolate the wounded from the sources of actual contact of the gangrenous

matter. The flies swarming over the wounds and over filth of every description; the filthy, imperfectly

washed, and scanty rags; the limited number of sponges and washbowls (the same washbowl and sponge

serving for a score or more of patients), were one and all sources of such constant circulation of the

gangrenous matter, that the disease might rapidly be propagated from a single gangrenous wound. While the

fact already considered, that a form of moist gangrene, resembling hospital gangrene, was quite common in

this foul atmosphere in cases of dysentery, both with and without the existence of hospital gangrene upon the

surface, demonstrates the dependence of the disease upon the state of the constitution, and proves in a clear

manner that neither the contact of the poisonous matter of gangrene, nor the direct action of the poisoned

atmosphere upon the ulcerated surface, is necessary to the development of the disease; on the other hand, it is

equally wellestablished that the disease may be communicated by the various ways just mentioned. It is

impossible to determine the length of time which rags and clothing saturated with gangrenous matter will

retain the power of reproducing the disease when applied to healthy wounds. Professor Brugmans, as quoted

by Guthrie in his commentaries on the surgery of the war in Portugal, Spain, France, and the Netherlands,

says that in 1797, in Holland, 'charpie,' composed of linen threads cut of different lengths, which, on inquiry,

it was found had been already used in the great hospitals in France, and had been subsequently washed and

bleached, caused every ulcer to which it was applied to be affected by hospital gangrene. Guthrie affirms in

the same work, that the fact that this disease was readily communicated by the application of instruments,

lint, or bandages which had been in contact with infected parts, was too firmly established by the experience

of every one in Portugal and Spain to be a matter of doubt. There are facts to show that flies may be the

means of communicating malignant pustules. Dr. Wagner, who has related several cases of malignant pustule

produced in man and beasts, both by contact and by eating the flesh of diseased animals, which happened in

the village of Striessa in Saxony, in 1834, gives two very remarkable cases which occurred eight days after

any beast had been affected with the disease. Both were women, one of twentysix and the other of fifty

years, and in them the pustules were well marked, and the general symptoms similar to the other cases. The

latter patient said she had been bitten by a fly upon the back d the neck, at which part the carbuncle appeared;

and the former, that she had also been bitten upon the right upper arm by a gnat. Upon inquiry, Wagner found

that the skin of one of the infected beasts had been hung on a neighboring wall, and thought it very possible

that the insects might have been attracted to them by the smell, and had thence conveyed the poison.

The old adage says that "Hunger is the best sauce for poor food," but hunger failed to render this detestable

stuff palatable, and it became so loathsome that very many actually starved to death because unable to force

their organs of deglutition to receive the nauseous dose and pass it to the stomach. I was always much

healthier than the average of the boys, and my appetite consequently much better, yet for the last month that I

was in Andersonville, it required all my determination to crowd the bread down my throat, and, as I have

stated before, I could only do this by breaking off small bits at a time, and forcing each down as I would a

A large part of this repulsiveness was due to the coarseness and foulness of the meal, the wretched cooking,

and the lack of salt, but there was a still more potent reason than all these. Nature does not intend that man

shall live by bread alone, nor by any one kind of food. She indicates this by the varying tastes and longings

that she gives him. If his body needs one kind of constituents, his tastes lead him to desire the food that is

richest in those constituents. When he has taken as much as his system requires, the sense of satiety

supervenes, and he "becomes tired" of that particular food. If tastes are not perverted, but allowed a free but

temperate exercise, they are the surest indicators of the way to preserve health and strength by a judicious

In this case Nature was protesting by a rebellion of the tastes against any further use of that species of food.

She was saying, as plainly as she ever spoke, that death could only be averted by a change of diet, which

would supply our bodies with the constituents they so sadly needed, and which could not be supplied by corn

How needless was this confinement of our rations to corn meal, and especially to such wretchedly prepared

meal, is conclusively shown by the Rebel testimony heretofore given. It would have been very little extra

trouble to the Rebels to have had our meal sifted; we would gladly have done it ourselves if allowed the

utensils and opportunity. It would have been as little trouble to have varied our rations with green corn and

A few wagon loads of roasting ears and sweet potatos would have banished every trace of scurvy from the

camp, healed up the wasting dysentery, and saved thousands of lives. Any day that the Rebels had chosen

they could have gotten a thousand volunteers who would have given their solemn parole not to escape, and

gone any distance into the country, to gather the potatos and corn, and such other vegetables as were readily

Whatever else may be said in defense of the Southern management of military prisons, the permitting seven

thousand men to die of the scurvy in the Summer time, in the midst of an agricultural region, filled with all

We again began to be exceedingly solicitous over the fate of Atlanta and Sherman's Army: we had heard but

little directly from that front for several weeks. Few prisoners had come in since those captured in the bloody

engagements of the 20th, 22d, and 28th of July. In spite of their confident tones, and our own sanguine hopes,

the outlook admitted of very grave doubts. The battles of the last week of July had been looked at it in the

best light possibleindecisive. Our men had held their own, it is true, but an invading army can not afford to

simply hold its own. Anything short of an absolute success is to it disguised defeat. Then we knew that the

cavalry column sent out under Stoneman had been so badly handled by that inefficient commander that it had

failed ridiculously in its object, being beaten in detail, and suffering the loss of its commander and a

considerable portion of its numbers. This had been followed by a defeat of our infantry at Etowah Creek, and

then came a long interval in which we received no news save what the Rebel papers contained, and they

pretended no doubt that Sherman's failure was already demonstrated. Next came wellauthenticated news

that Sherman had raised the siege and fallen back to the Chattahoochee, and we felt something of the

bitterness of despair. For days thereafter we heard nothing, though the hot, close Summer air seemed

surcharged with the premonitions of a war storm about to burst, even as nature heralds in the same way a

concentration of the mighty force of the elements for the grand crash of the thunderstorm. We waited in tense

expectancy for the decision of the fates whether final victory or defeat should end the long and arduous

At night the guards in the perches around the Stockade called out every half hour, so as to show the officers

that they were awake and attending to their duty. The formula for this ran thus:

One evening when our anxiety as to Atlanta was wrought to the highest pitch, one of the guards sang out:

The heart of every man within hearing leaped to his mouth. We looked toward each other, almost speechless

The next instant such a ringing cheer burst out as wells spontaneously from the throats and hearts of men, in

the first ecstatic moments of victorya cheer to which our saddened hearts and enfeebled lungs had long

been strangers. It was the genuine, honest, manly Northern cheer, as different from the shrill Rebel yell as the

The shout was taken up all over the prison. Even those who had not heard the guard understood that it meant

that "Atlanta was ours and fairly won," and they took up the acclamation with as much enthusiasm as we had

begun it. All thoughts of sleep were put to flight: we would have a season of rejoicing. Little knots gathered

together, debated the news, and indulged in the most sanguine hopes as to the effect upon the Rebels. In some

parts of the Stockade stump speeches were made. I believe that Boston Corbett and his party organized a

prayer and praise meeting. In our corner we stirred up our tuneful friend "Nosey," who sang again the grand

old patriotic hymns that set our thin blood to bounding, and made us remember that we were still Union

soldiers, with higher hopes than that of starving and dying in Andersonville. He sang the ever glorious Star

Spangled Banner, as he used to sing it around the camp fire in happier days, when we were in the field. He

sang the rousing "Rally Round the Flag," with its wealth of patriotic fire and martial vigor, and we, with

The Rebels became excited, lest our exaltation of spirits would lead to an assault upon the Stockade. They got

A few days lateron the evening of the 6th of Septemberthe Rebel Sergeants who called the roll entered

"PRISONERS: I am instructed by General Winder to inform you that a general exchange has been agreed

upon. Twenty thousand men will be exchanged immediately at Savannah, where your vessels are now

waiting for you. Detachments from One to Ten will prepare to leave early tomorrow morning."

The excitement that this news produced was simply indescribable. I have seen men in every possible

exigency that can confront men, and a large proportion viewed that which impended over them with at least

outward composure. The boys around me had endured all that we suffered with stoical firmness. Groans from

painracked bodies could not be repressed, and bitter curses and maledictions against the Rebels leaped

unbidden to the lips at the slightest occasion, but there was no murmuring or whining. There was not a

dayhardly an hourin which one did not see such exhibitions of manly fortitude as made him proud of

But the emotion which pain and suffering and danger could not develop, joy could, and boys sang, and

shouted and cried, and danced as if in a delirium. "God's country," fairer than the sweet promised land of

Canaan appeared to the rapt vision of the Hebrew poet prophet, spread out in glad vista before the mind's eye

of every one. It had comeat last it had come that which we had so longed for, wished for, prayed for,

dreamed of; schemed, planned, toiled for, and for which went up the last earnest, dying wish of the thousands

of our comrades who would now know no exchange save into that eternal God's country" where

Our "preparations," for leaving were few and simple. When the morning came, and shortly after the order to

move, Andrews and I picked our well worn blanket, our tattered overcoat, our rude chessmen, and no less

rude board, our little black can, and the spoon made of hoopiron, and bade farewell to the

My feet were still in miserable condition from the lacerations received in the attempt to escape, but I took one

of our tent poles as a staff and hobbled away. We repassed the gates which we had entered on that February

I had come to regard the Rebels around us as such measureless liars that my first impulse was to believe the

reverse of anything they said to us; and even now, while I hoped for the best, my old habit of mind was so

strongly upon me that I had some doubts of our going to be exchanged, simply because it was a Rebel who

had said so. But in the crowd of Rebels who stood close to the road upon which we were walking was a

This set my last misgiving at rest. Now I was certain that we were going to be exchanged, and my spirits

Entering the cars we thumped and pounded toilsomely along, after the manner of Southern railroads, at the

rate of six or eight miles an hour. Savannah was two hundred and forty miles away, and to our impatient

minds it seemed as if we would never get there. The route lay the whole distance through the cheerless pine

barrens which cover the greater part of Georgia. The only considerable town on the way was Macon, which

had then a population of five thousand or thereabouts. For scores of miles there would not be a sign of a

human habitation, and in the one hundred and eighty miles between Macon and Savannah there were only

three insignificant villages. There was a station every ten miles, at which the only building was an open shed,

The occasional specimens of the poor white "cracker" population that we saw, seemed indigenous products of

the starved soil. They suited their povertystricken surroundings as well as the gnarled and scrubby

vegetation suited the sterile sand. Thinchested, roundshouldered, scraggybearded, dulleyed and

openmouthed, they all looked alikeall looked as ignorant, as stupid, and as lazy as they were poor and

weak. They were "lowdowners" in every respect, and made our rough and simple. minded East Tennesseans

We looked on the povertystricken land with goodnatured contempt, for we thought we were leaving it

forever, and would soon be in one which, compared to it, was as the fatness at Egypt to the leanness of the

The second day after leaving Andersonville our train struggled across the swamps into Savannah, and rolled

slowly down the live oak shaded streets into the center of the City. It seemed like another Deserted Village,

so vacant and noiseless the streets, and the buildings everywhere so overgrown with luxuriant vegetation: The

limbs of the shade trees crashed along and broke, upon the tops of our cars, as if no train had passed that way

for years. Through the interstices between the trees and clumps of foliage could be seen the gleaming white

marble of the monuments erected to Greene and Pulaski, looking like giant tombstones in a City of the Dead.

The unbroken stillnessso different from what we expected on entering the metropolis of Georgia, and a

City that was an important port in Revolutionary daysbecame absolutely oppressive. We could not

understand it, but our thoughts were more intent upon the coming transfer to our flag than upon any

Finally some little boys straggled out to where our car was standing, and we opened up a conversation with

The reply came in that piercing treble shriek in which a boy of ten or twelve makes even his most

"Well," (with our confidence in exchange somewhat dashed,) "they intend to exchange us here, don't they?"

"Well," (with something of a quaver in the questioner's voice,) "what are they going to do, with us, any way?"

"O," (the treble shriek became almost demoniac) "they are fixing up a place over by the old jail for you."

What a sinking of hearts was there then! Andrews and I would not give up hope so speedily as some others

did, and resolved to believe, for awhile at least, that we were going to be exchanged.

Ordered out of the cars, we were marched along the street. A crowd of small boys, full of the curiosity of the

animal, gathered around us as we marched. Suddenly a door in a rather nice house opened; an angryfaced

"Boys! BOYS! What are you doin' there! Come up on the steps immejitely! Come away from them

I will admit that we were not prepossessing in appearance; nor were we as cleanly as young gentlemen should

habitually be; in fact, I may as well confess that I would not now, if I could help it, allow a tramp, as

dilapidated in raiment, as unwashed, unshorn, uncombed, and populous with insects as we were, to come

within several rods of me. Nevertheless, it was not pleasant to hear so accurate a description of our personal

A short march brought us to the place "they were fixing for us by the old jail." It was another pen, with high

walls of thick pine plank, which told us only too plainly how vain were our expectations of exchange.

When we were turned inside, and I realized that the gates of another prison had closed upon me, hope forsook

me. I flung our odious little possessionsour can, chessboard, overcoat, and blanketupon the ground, and,

sitting down beside them, gave way to the bitterest despair. I wanted to die, O, so badly. Never in all my life

had I desired anything in the world so much as I did now to get out of it. Had I had pistol, knife, rope, or

poison, I would have ended my prison life then and there, and departed with the unceremoniousness of a

French leave. I remembered that I could get a quietus from a guard with very little trouble, but I would not

give one of the bitterly hated Rebels the triumph of shooting me. I longed to be another Samson, with the

whole Southern Confederacy gathered in another Temple of Dagon, that I might pull down the supporting

While I was thus sinking deeper and deeper in the Slough of Despond, the firing of a musket, and the shriek

of the man who was struck, attracted my attention. Looking towards the opposite end of the, pen I saw a

guard bringing his still smoking musket to a "recover arms," and, not fifteen feet from him, a prisoner lying

on the ground in the agonies of death. The latter had a pipe in his mouth when he was shot, and his teeth still

clenched its stem. His legs and arms were drawn up convulsively, and he was rocking backward and forward

The Rebel officer in command of the guard was sitting on his horse inside the pen at the time, and rode

forward to see what the matter was. Lieutenant Davis, who had come with us from Andersonville, was also

sitting on a horse inside the prison, and he called out in his usual harsh, disagreeable voice:

I found that lying around inside were a number of bits of plankeach about five feet long, which had been

sawed off by the carpenters engaged in building the prison. The ground being a bare common, was destitute

of all shelter, and the pieces looked as if they would be quite useful in building a tent. There may have been

an order issued forbidding the prisoners to touch them, but if so, I had not heard it, and I imagine the first

intimation to the prisoner just killed that the boards were not to be taken was the bullet which penetrated his

vitals. Twentyfive cents would be a liberal appraisement of the value of the lumber for which the boy lost

Half an hour afterward we thought we saw all the guards march out of the front gate. There was still another

pile of these same kind of pieces of board lying at the further side of the prison. The crowd around me

noticed it, and we all made a rush for it. In spite of my lame feet I outstripped the rest, and was just in the act

of stooping down to pick the boards up when a loud yell from those behind startled me. Glancing to my left I

saw a guard cocking his gun and bringing it up to shoot me. With one frightened spring, as quick as a flash,

and before he could cover me, I landed fully a rod back in the crowd, and mixed with it. The fellow tried hard

to draw a bead on me, but I was too quick for him, and he finally lowered his gun with an oath expressive of

Walking back to my place the full ludicrousness of the thing dawned upon me so forcibly that I forgot all

about my excitement and scare, and laughed aloud. Here, not an hour age I was murmuring because I could

find no way to die; I sighed for death as a bridegroom for the coming of his bride, an yet, when a Rebel had

pointed his gun at me, it had nearly scared me out of a year's growth, and made me jump farther than I could

Andrews and I did not let the fate of the boy who was killed, nor my own narrow escape from losing the top

of my head, deter us from farther efforts to secure possession of those coveted boards. My readers remember

the story of the boy who, digging vigorously at a hole, replied to the remark of a passing traveler that there

was probably no groundhog there, and, even if there was, "groundhog was mighty poor eatin', any way,"

That was what actuated us: we were out of material for a tent. Our solitary blanket had rotted and worn full of

holes by its long double duty, as bedclothes and tent at Andersonville, and there was an imperative call for a

Andrews and I flattered ourselves that when we matched our collective or individual wits against those of a

Johnny his defeat was pretty certain, and with this cheerful estimate of our own powers to animate us, we set

to work to steal the boards from under the guard's nose. The Johnny had malice in his heart and

buckandball in his musket, but his eyes were not sufficiently numerous to adequately discharge all the

duties laid upon him. He had too many different things to watch at the same time. I would approach a gap in

the fence not yet closed as if I intended making a dash through it for liberty, and when the Johnny had

concentrated all his attention on letting me have the contents of his gun just as soon as he could have a

reasonable excuse for doing so, Andrews would pick u a couple of boards and slip away with them. Then I

would fall back in pretended (and some real) alarm, andAndrew would come up and draw his attention by

a similar feint, while I made off with a couple more pieces. After a few hours c this strategy, we found

ourselves the possessors of some dozen planks, with which we made a leanto, that formed a tolerable shelter

for our heads and the upper portion of our bodies. As the boards were not over five feet long, and the slope

reduce the sheltered space to about fourandonehalf feet, it left th lower part of our naked feet and legs to

project outofdoors. Andrews used to lament very touchingly the sunburning his toenails were receiving.

He knew that his complexion was being ruined for life, and all the Balm of a Thousand Flowers in the world

would not restore his comely ankles to that condition of pristine loveliness which would admit of their

introduction into good society again. Another defect was that, like the fun in a practical joke, it was all on one

side; there was not enough of it to go clear round. It was very unpleasant, when a storm came up in a

direction different from that we had calculated upon, to be compelled to get out in the midst of it, and build

Still we had a tent, and were that much better off than threefourths of our comrades who had no shelter at

all. We were owners of a brown stone front on Fifth Avenue compared to the other fellows.

Our tent erected, we began a general survey of our new abiding place. The ground was a sandy common in

the outskirts of Savannah. The sand was covered with a light sod. The Rebels, who knew nothing of our

burrowing propensities, had neglected to make the plank forming the walls of the Prison project any distance

below the surface of the ground, and had put up no Dead Line around the inside; so that it looked as if

everything was arranged expressly to invite us to tunnel out. We were not the boys to neglect such an

invitation. By night about three thousand had been received from Andersonville, and placed inside. When

morning came it looked as if a colony of gigantic rats had been at work. There was a tunnel every ten or

fifteen feet, and at least twelve hundred of us had gone out through them during the night. I never understood

why all in the pen did not follow our example, and leave the guards watching a forsaken Prison. There was

nothing to prevent it. An hour's industrious work with a halfcanteen would take any one outside, or if a boy

was too lazy to dig his own tunnel, he could have the use of one of the hundred others that had been dug.

But escaping was only begun when the Stockade was passed. The site of Savannah is virtually an island. On

the north is the Savannah River; to the east, southeast and south, are the two Ogeechee rivers, and a chain of

sounds and lagoons connecting with the Atlantic Ocean. To the west is a canal connecting the Savannah and

Big Ogeechee Rivers. We found ourselves headed off by water whichever way we went. All the bridges were

guarded, and all the boats destroyed. Early in the morning the Rebels discovered our absence, and the whole

garrison of Savannah was sent out on patrol after us. They picked up the boys in squads of from ten to thirty,

lurking around the shores of the streams waiting for night to come, to get across, or engaged in building rafts

for transportation. By evening the whole mob of us were back in the pen again. As nobody was punished for

running away, we treated the whole affair as a lark, and those brought back first stood around the gate and

That night big fires were built all around the Stockade, and a line of guards placed on the ground inside of

these. In spite of this precaution, quite a number escaped. The next day a Dead Line was put up inside of the

Prison, twenty feet from the Stockade. This only increased the labor of burrowing, by making us go farther.

Instead of being able to tunnel out in an hour, it now took three or four hours. That night several hundred of

us, rested from our previous performance, and hopeful of better luck, brought our faithful half

canteensnow scoured very bright by constant useinto requisition again, and before the morning. dawned

In this way we managed to evade the recapture that came to most of those who went out, but it was a fearful

experience. Having been raised in a country where venomous snakes abounded, I had that fear and horror of

them that inhabitants of those districts feel, and of which people living in sections free from such a scourge

know little. I fancied that the Southern swamps were filled with all forms of loathsome and poisonous

reptiles, and it required all my courage to venture into them barefooted. Besides, the snags and roots hurt our

feet fearfully. Our hope was to find a boat somewhere, in which we could float out to sea, and trust to being

picked up by some of the blockading fleet. But no boat could we find, with all our painful and diligent search.

We learned afterward that the Rebels made a practice of breaking up all the boats along the shore to prevent

negros and their own deserters from escaping to the blockading fleet. We thought of making a raft of logs, but

had we had the strength to do this, we would doubtless have thought it too risky, since we dreaded missing

the vessels, and being carried out to sea to perish of hunger. During the night we came to the railroad bridge

across the Ogeechee. We had some slender hope that, if we could reach this we might perhaps get across the

river, and find better opportunities for escape. But these last expectations were blasted by the discovery that it

was guarded. There was a post and a fire on the shore next us, and a single guard with a lantern was stationed

on one of the middle spans. Almost famished with hunger, and so weary and footsore that we could scarcely

move another step, we went back to a cleared place on the high ground, and laid down to sleep, entirely

reckless as to what became of us. Late in the morning we were awakened by the Rebel patrol and taken back

to the prison. Lieutenant Davis, disgusted with the perpetual attempts to escape, moved the Dead Line out

forty feet from the Stockade; but this restricted our room greatly, since the number of prisoners in the pen had

now risen to about six thousand, and, besides, it offered little additional protection against tunneling.

It was not much more difficult to dig fifty feet than it had been to dig thirty feet. Davis soon realized this, and

put the Dead Line back to twenty feet. His next device was a much more sensible one. A crowd of one

hundred and fifty negros dug a trench twenty feet wide and five feet deep around the whole prison on the

outside, and this ditch was filled with water from the City Water Works. No one could cross this without

Still we were not discouraged, and Andrews and I joined a crowd that was constructing a large tunnel from

near our quarters on the east side of the pen. We finished the burrow to within a few inches of the edge of the

ditch, and then ceased operations, to await some stormy night, when we could hope to get across the ditch

Orders were issued to guards to fire without warning on men who were observed to be digging or carrying

out dirt after nightfall. They occasionally did so, but the risk did not keep anyone from tunneling. Our tunnel

ran directly under a sentry box. When carrying dirt away the bearer of the bucket had to turn his back on the

guard and walk directly down the street in front of him, two hundred or three hundred feet, to the center of

the camp, where he scattered the sand aroundso as to give no indication of where it came from. Though we

always waited till the moon went down, it seemed as if, unless the guard were a fool, both by nature and

training, he could not help taking notice of what was going on under his eyes. I do not recall any more

nervous promenades in my life, than those when, taking my turn, I received my bucket of sand at the mouth

of the tunnel, and walked slowly away with it. The most disagreeable part was in turning my back to the

guard. Could I have faced him, I had sufficient confidence in my quickness of perception, and talents as a

dodger, to imagine that I could make it difficult for him to hit me. But in walling with my back to him I was

wholly at his mercy. Fortune, however, favored us, and we were allowed to go on with our worknight after

In the meanwhile another happy thought slowly gestated in Davis's alleged intellect. How he came to give

birth to two ideas with no more than a week between them, puzzled all who knew him, and still more that he

survived this extraordinary strain upon the gray matter of the cerebrum. His new idea was to have driven a

heavilyladen mule cart around the inside of the Dead Line at least once a day. The wheels or the mule's feet

broke through the thin sod covering the tunnels and exposed them. Our tunnel went with the rest, and those of

our crowd who wore shoes had humiliation added to sorrow by being compelled to go in and spade the hole

One day one of the boys watched his opportunity, got under the ration wagon, and clinging close to the

coupling pole with hands and feet, was carried outside. He was detected, however, as he came from under the

One of the shrewdest and nearest successful attempts to escape that came under my notice was that of my

friend Sergeant Frank Reverstock, of the Third West Virginia Cavalry, of whom I have before spoken. Frank,

who was quite small, with a smooth boyish face, had converted to his own use a citizen's coat, belonging to a

young boy, a Sutler's assistant, who had died in Andersonville. He had made himself a pair of bag pantaloons

and a shirt from pieces of meal sacks which he had appropriated from day to day. He had also the Sutler's

assistant's shoes, and, to crown all, he wore on his head one of those hideous looking hats of quilted calico

which the Rebels had taken to wearing in the lack of felt hats, which they could neither make nor buy.

Altogether Frank looked enough like a Rebel to be dangerous to trust near a country store or a stable full of

horses. When we first arrived in the prison quite a crowd of the Savannahians rushed in to inspect us. The

guards had some difficulty in keeping them and us separate. While perplexed with this annoyance, one of

them saw Frank standing in our crowd, and, touching him with his bayonet, said, with some sharpness:

Frank stood back. He did it promptly but calmly, and then, as if his curiosity as to Yankees was fully

satisfied, he walked slowly away up the street, deliberating as he went on a plan for getting out of the City.

He hit upon an excellent one. Going to the engineer of a freight train making ready to start back to Macon, he

told him that his father was working in the Confederate machine shops at Griswoldville, near Macon; that he

himself was also one of the machinists employed there, and desired to go thither but lacked the necessary

means to pay his passage. If the engineer would let him ride up on the engine he would do work enough to

pay the fare. Frank told the story ingeniously, the engineer and firemen were won over, and gave their

No more zealous assistant ever climbed upon a tender than Frank proved to be. He loaded wood with a

nervous industry, that stood him in place of great strength. He kept the tender in perfect order, and

anticipated, as far as possible, every want of the engineer and his assistant. They were delighted with him,

and treated him with the greatest kindness, dividing their food with him, and insisting that he should share

their bed when they "laid by" for the night. Frank would have gladly declined this latter kindness with thanks,

as he was conscious that the quantity of "graybacks" his clothing contained did not make him a very desirable

sleeping companion for any one, but his friends were so pressing that he was compelled to accede.

His greatest trouble was a fear of recognition by some one of the prisoners that were continually passing by

the train load, on their way from Andersonville to other prisons. He was one of the best known of the

prisoners in Andersonville; bright, active, always cheerful, and forever in motion during waking hours,

every one in the Prison speedily became familiar with him, and all addressed him as "Sergeant Frankie." If

any one on the passing trains had caught a glimpse of him, that glimpse would have been followed almost

Then the whole game would have been up. Frank escaped this by persistent watchfulness, and by busying

himself on the opposite side of the engine, with his back turned to the other trains.

At last when nearing Griswoldville, Frank, pointing to a large white house at some distance across the fields,

"Now, right over there is where my uncle lives, and I believe I'll just run over and see him, and then walk into

He thanked his friends fervently for their kindness, promised to call and see them frequently, bade them good

He walked towards the white house as long as he thought he could be seen, and then entered a large corn field

and concealed himself in a thicket in the center of it until dark, when he made his way to the neighboring

woods, and began journeying northward as fast as his legs could carry him. When morning broke he had

made good progress, but was terribly tired. It was not prudent to travel by daylight, so he gathered himself

some ears of corn and some berries, of which he made his breakfast, and finding a suitable thicket he crawled

After another meal of raw corn and berries he resumed his journey, and that night made still better progress.

He repeated this for several days and nightslying in the woods in the day time, traveling by night through

woods, fields, and bypaths avoiding all the fords, bridges and main roads, and living on what he could glean

from the fields, that he might not take even so much risk as was involved in going to the negro cabins for

But there are always flaws in every man's armor of cautioneven in so perfect a one as Frank's. His

complete success so far had the natural effect of inducing a growing carelessness, which wrought his ruin.

One evening he started off briskly, after a refreshing rest and sleep. He knew that he must be very near

Sherman's lines, and hope cheered him up with the belief that his freedom would soon be won.

Descending from the hill, in whose dense brushwood he had made his bed all day, he entered a large field full

of standing corn, and made his way between the rows until he reached, on the other side, the fence that

separated it from the main road, across which was another cornfield, that Frank intended entering.

But he neglected his usual precautions on approaching a road, and instead of coming up cautiously and

carefully reconnoitering in all directions before he left cover, he sprang boldly over the fence and strode out

for the other side. As he reached the middle of the road, his ears were assailed with the sharp click of a

Turning with a start to his left he saw not ten feet from him, a mounted patrol, the sound of whose approach

had been masked by the deep dust of the road, into which his horse's hoofs sank noiselessly.

Frank, of course, yielded without a word, and when sent to the officer in command he told the old story about

his being an employee of the Griswoldville shops, off on a leave of absence to make a visit to sick relatives.

But, unfortunately, his captors belonged to that section themselves, and speedily caught him in a maze of

crossquestioning from which he could not extricate himself. It also became apparent from his language that

he was a Yankee, and it was not far from this to the conclusion that he was a spya conclusion to which the

proximity of Sherman's lines, then less than twenty miles distantgreatly assisted.

By the next morning this belief had become so firmly fixed in the minds of the Rebels that Frank saw a halter

dangling alarmingly near, and he concluded the wisest plan was to confess who he really was.

It was not the smallest of his griefs to realize by how slight a chance he had failed. Had he looked down the

road before he climbed the fence, or had he been ten minutes earlier or later, the patrol would not have been

there, he could have gained the next field unperceived, and two more nights of successful progress would

have taken him into Sherman's lines at Sand Mountain. The patrol which caught him was on the lookout for

deserters and shirking conscripts, who had become unusually numerous since the fall of Atlanta.

He was sent back to us at Savannah. As he came into the prison gate Lieutenant Davis was standing near. He

"By God, I'll stop this!" caught the coat by the tails, tore it to the collar, and took it and his hat away from

There was a strange sequel to this episode. A few weeks afterward a special exchange for ten thousand was

made, and Frank succeeded in being included in this. He was given the usual furlough from the paroled camp

One day while on the cars goingI think to Newark, O., he saw Lieutenant Davis on the train, in citizens'

clothes. He had been sent by the Rebel Government to Canada with dispatches relating to some of the raids

then harassing our Northern borders. Davis was the last man in the world to successfully disguise himself. He

had a large, coarse mouth, that made him remembered by all who had ever seen him. Frank recognized him

Frank insisted that he was right. Davis fumed and blustered, but though Frank was small, he was as game as a

bantam rooster, and he gave Davis to understand that there had been a vast change in their relative positions;

that the one, while still the same insolent swaggerer, had not regiments of infantry or batteries of artillery to

emphasize his insolence, and the other was no longer embarrassed in the discussion by the immense odds in

After a stormy scene Frank called in the assistance of some other soldiers in the car, arrested Davis, and took

him to Camp Chasenear Columbus, O.,where he was fully identified by a number of paroled prisoners.

He was searched, and documents showing the nature of his mission beyond a doubt, were found upon his

Davis was sent to Johnson's Island for execution, but influences were immediately set at work to secure

Executive clemency. What they were I know not, but I am informed by the Rev. Robert McCune, who was

then Chaplain of the One Hundred and TwentyEighth Ohio Infantry and the Post of Johnson's Island and

who was the spiritual adviser appointed to prepare Davis for execution, that the sentence was hardly

pronounced before Davis was visited by an emissary, who told him to dismiss his fears, that he should not

It is likely that leading Baltimore Unionists were enlisted in his behalf through family connections, and as the

Border State Unionists were then potent at Washington, they readily secured a commutation of his sentence

It seems that the justice of this world is very unevenly dispensed when so much solicitude is shown for the

life of such a man, and none at all for the much better men whom he assisted to destroy.

The official notice of the commutation of the sentence was not published until the day set for the execution,

but the certain knowledge that it would be forthcoming enabled Davis to display a great deal of bravado on

approaching what was supposed to be his end. As the reader can readily imagine, from what I have heretofore

said of him, Davis was the man to improve to the utmost every opportunity to strut his little hour, and he did

it in this instance. He posed, attitudinized and vapored, so that the camp and the country were filled with

stories of the wonderful coolness with which he contemplated his approaching fate.

Among other things he said to his guard, as he washed himself elaborately the night before the day

"Well, you can be sure of one thing; tomorrow night there will certainly be one clean corpse on this Island."

Unfortunately for his braggadocio, he let it leak out in some way that he had been well aware all the time that

Frank Beverstock went back to his regiment, and served with it until the close of the war. He then returned

home, and, after awhile became a banker at Bowling Green, O. He was a fine business man and became very

prosperous. But though naturally healthy and vigorous, his system carried in it the seeds of death, sown there

by the hardships of captivity. He had been one of the victims of the Rebels' vaccination; the virus injected

into his blood had caused a large part of his right temple to slough off, and when it healed it left a ghastly

Two years ago he was taken suddenly ill, and died before his friends had any idea that his condition was

After all Savannah was a wonderful improvement on Andersonville. We got away from the pestilential

Swamp and that poisonous ground. Every mouthful of air was not laden with disease germs, nor every cup of

water polluted with the seeds of death. The earth did not breed gangrene, nor the atmosphere promote fever.

As only the more vigorous had come away, we were freed from the depressing spectacle of every third man

dying. The keen disappointment prostrated very many who had been of average health, and I imagine, several

hundred died, but there were hospital arrangements of some kind, and the sick were taken away from among

us. Those of us who tunneled out had an opportunity of stretching our legs, which we had not had for months

in the overcrowded Stockade we had left. The attempts to escape did all engaged in them good, even though

they failed, since they aroused new ideas and hopes, set the blood into more rapid circulation, and toned up

the mind and system both. I had come away from Andersonville with considerable scurvy manifesting itself

We also got away from those murderous little brats of Reserves, who guarded us at Andersonville, and shot

men down as they would stone apples out of a tree. Our guards now were mostly, sailors, from the Rebel fleet

in the harborIrishmen, Englishmen and Scandinavians, as free hearted and kindly as sailors always are. I

do not think they ever fired a shot at one of us. The only trouble we had was with that portion of the guard

drawn from the infantry of the garrison. They had the same rattlesnake venom of the Home Guard crowd

wherever we met it, and shot us down at the least provocation. Fortunately they only formed a small part of

Best of all, we escaped for a while from the upaslike shadow of Winder and Wirz, in whose presence strong

men sickened and died, as when near some malign genii of an Eastern story. The peasantry of Italy believed

firmly in the evil eye. Did they ever know any such men as Winder and his satellite, I could comprehend how

Lieutenant Davis had many faults, but there was no comparison between him and the Andersonville

commandant. He was a typical young Southern man; ignorant and bumptious as to the most common matters

of schoolboy knowledge, inordinately vain of himself and his family, coarse in tastes and thoughts, violent

in his prejudices, but after all with some streaks of honor and generosity that made the widest possible

difference between him and Wirz, who never had any. As one of my chums said to me:

This was nearly the truth. I never saw Wirz when he was not angry; if not violently abusive, he was cynical

and sardonic. Never, in my little experience with him did I detect a glint of kindly, generous humanity; if he

ever was moved by any sight of suffering its exhibition in his face escaped my eye. If he ever had even a wish

to mitigate the pain or hardship of any man the expression of such wish never fell on my ear. How a man

could move daily through such misery as he encountered, and never be moved by it except to scorn and

Davis vapored a great deal, swearing big round oaths in the broadest of Southern patois; he was perpetually

"Open on ye wid de ahtillery," but the only death that I knew him to directly cause or sanction was that I have

described in the previous chapter. He would not put himself out of the way to annoy and oppress prisoners, as

Wirz would, but frequently showed even a disposition to humor them in some little thing, when it could be

Byandby, however, he got an idea that there was some money to be made out of the prisoners, and he set

his wits to work in this direction. One day, standing at the gate, he gave one of his peculiar yells that he used

"Yesterday, while I wuz in the camps (a Rebel always says camps,) some of you prisoners picked my pockets

of seventyfive dollars in greenbacks. Now, I give you notice that I'll not send in any moah rations till the

This was a very stupid method of extortion, since no one believed that he had lost the money, and at all

events he had no business to have the greenbacks, as the Rebel laws imposed severe penalties upon any

citizen, and still more upon any soldier dealing with, or having in his possession any of "the money of the

enemy." We did without rations until night, when they were sent in. There was a story that some of the boys

in the prison had contributed to make up part of the sum, and Davis took it and was satisfied. I do not know

how true the story was. At another time some of the boys stole the bridle and halter off an old horse that was

driven in with a cart. The things were worth, at a liberal estimate, one dollar. Davis cut off the rations of the

whole six thousand of us for one day for this. We always imagined that the proceeds went into his pocket.

A special exchange was arranged between our Navy Department and that of the Rebels, by which all seamen

and marines among us were exchanged. Lists of these were sent to the different prisons and the men called

for. About threefourths of them were dead, but many soldiers divining, the situation of affairs, answered to

the dead men's names, went away with the squad and were exchanged. Much of this was through the

connivance of the Rebel officers, who favored those who had ingratiated themselves with them. In many

instances money was paid to secure this privilege, and I have been informed on good authority that Jack

Huckleby, of the Eighth Tennessee, and Ira Beverly, of the One Hundredth Ohio, who kept the big sutler

shop on the North Side at Andersonville, paid Davis five hundred dollars each to be allowed to go with the

sailors. As for Andrews and me, we had no friends among the Rebels, nor money to bribe with, so we stood

The rations issued to us for some time after our arrival seemed riotous luxury to what we had been getting at

Andersonville. Each of us received daily a halfdozen rude and coarse imitations of our fondlyremembered

hard tack, and with these a small piece of meat or a few spoonfuls of molasses, and a quart or so of vinegar,

and several plugs of tobacco for each hundred." How exquisite was the taste of the crackers and molasses! It

was the first wheat bread I had eaten since my entry into Richmond nine months beforeand molasses

had been a stranger to me for years. After the corn bread we had so long lived upon, this was manna. It seems

that the Commissary at Savannah labored under the delusion that he must issue to us the same rations as were

served out to the Rebel soldiers and sailors. It was some little time before the fearful mistake came to the

knowledge of Winder. I fancy that the news almost threw him into an apoplectic fit. Nothing, save his being

ordered to the front, could have caused him such poignant sorrow as the information that so much good food

had been worse than wasted in undoing his work by building up the bodies of his hated enemies.

Without being told, we knew that he had been heard from when the tobacco, vinegar and molasses failed to

come in, and the crackers gave way to corn meal. Still this was a vast improvement on Andersonville, as the

meal was fine and sweet, and we each had a spoonful of salt issued to us regularly.

I am quite sure that I cannot make the reader who has not had an experience similar to ours comprehend the

wonderful importance to us of that spoonful of salt. Whether or not the appetite for salt be, as some scientists

claim, a purely artificial want, one thing is certain, and that is, that either the habit of countless generations or

some other cause, has so deeply ingrained it into our common nature, that it has come to be nearly as

essential as food itself, and no amount of deprivation can accustom us to its absence. Rather, it seemed that

the longer we did without it the more overpowering became our craving. I could get along today and

tomorrow, perhaps the whole week, without salt in my food, since the lack would be supplied from the

excess I had already swallowed, but at the end of that time Nature would begin to demand that I renew the

supply of saline constituent of my tissues, and she would become more clamorous with every day that I

The light artillery of the garrison of Savannahfour batteries, twenty four pieceswas stationed around

three sides of the prison, the guns unlimbered, planted at convenient distance, and trained upon us, ready for

instant use. We could see all the grinning mouths through the cracks in the fence. There were enough of them

to send us as high as the traditional kite flown by Gilderoy. The having at his beck this array of frowning

metal lent Lieutenant Davis such an importance in his own eyes that his demeanor swelled to the grandiose. It

became very amusing to see him puff up and vaunt over it, as he did on every possible occasion. For instance,

finding a crowd of several hundred lounging around the gate, he would throw open the wicket, stalk in with

the air of a Jove threatening a rebellious world with the dread thunders of heaven, and shout:

"Whaa yee! Prisoners, I give you jist two minutes to cleah away from this gate, aw I'll open on ye wid

One of the buglers of the artillery was a superb musicianevidently some old "regular" whom the

Confederacy had seduced into its service, and his instrument was so sweet toned that we imagined that it was

made of silver. The calls he played were nearly the same as we used in the cavalry, and for the first few days

we became bitterly homesick every time he sent ringing out the old familiar signals, that to us were so closely

associated with what now seemed the bright and happy days when we were in the field with our battalion. If

we were only back in the valleys of Tennessee with what alacrity we would respond to that "assembly;" no

Orderly's patience would be worn out in getting laggards and lazy ones to "fall in for rollcall;" how eagerly

we would attend to "stable duty;" how gladly mount our faithful horses and ride away to "water," and what

bareback races ride, going and coming. We would be even glad to hear "guard " and "drill" sounded; and

"Comegetyourqninine; come, get your quinine; It'll make you sad: It'll make you sick. Come,

O, if we were only back, what admirable soldiers we would be! One morning, about three or four o'clock, we

were awakened by the ground shaking and a series of heavy, dull thumps sounding oft seaward. Our

silvervoiced bugler seemed to be awakened, too. He set the echoes ringing with a vigorously played

"reveille;" a minute later came an equally earnest "assembly," and when "boots and saddles" followed, we

knew that all was not well in Denmark; the thumping and shaking now had a significance. It meant heavy

Yankee guns somewhere near. We heard the gunners hitching up; the bugle signal "forward," the wheels roll

off, and for a half hour afterwards we caught the receding sound of the bugle commanding "right turn," "left

turn," etc., as the batteries marched away. Of course, we became considerably wrought up over the matter, as

we fancied that, knowing we were in Savannah, our vessels were trying to pass up to the City and take it. The

We subsequently learned that some of our blockaders, finding time banging heavy upon their hands, had

essayed a little diversion by knocking Forts Jackson and Bledsoetwo small forts defending the passage of

the Savannahabout their defenders' ears. After capturing the forts our folks desisted and came no farther.

Quite a number of the old Raider crowd had come with us from Andersonville. Among these was the shyster,

Peter Bradley. They kept up their old tactics of hanging around the gates, and currying favor with the Rebels

in every possible way, in hopes to get paroles outside or other favors. The great mass of the prisoners were so

bitter against the Rebels as to feel that they would rather die than ask or accept a favor from their hands, and

they had little else than contempt for these trucklers. The raider crowd's favorite theme of conversation with

the Rebels was the strong discontent of the boys with the manner of their treatment by our Government. The

assertion that there was any such widespread feeling was utterly false. We all had confidenceas we

continue to have to this daythat our Government would do everything for us possible, consistent with its

honor, and the success of military operations, and outside of the little squad of which I speak, not an

admission could be extracted from anybody that blame could be attached to any one, except the Rebels. It

was regarded as unmanly and unsoldier like to the last degree, as well as senseless, to revile our

But the Rebels were led to believe that we were ripe for revolt against our flag, and to side with them.

Imagine, if possible, the stupidity that would mistake our bitter hatred of those who were our deadly enemies,

for any feeling that would lead us to join hands with those enemies. One day we were surprised to see the

carpenters erect a rude stand in the center of the camp. When it was finished, Bradley appeared upon it, in

company with some Rebel officers and guards. We gathered around in curiosity, and Bradley began making a

He said that it had now become apparent to all of us that our Government had abandoned us; that it cared

little or nothing for us, since it could hire as many more quite readily, by offering a bounty equal to the pay

which would be due us now; that it cost only a few hundred dollars to bring over a shipload of Irish, "Dutch,"

and French, who were only too glad to agree to fight or do anything else to get to this country. [The peculiar

impudence of this consisted in Bradley himself being a foreigner, and one who had only come out under one

Continuing in this strain he repeated and dwelt upon the old lie, always in the mouths of his crowd, that

Secretary Stanton and General Halleck had positively refused to enter upon negotiations for exchange,

because those in prison were "only a miserable lot of 'coffeeboilers' and 'blackberry pickers,' whom the

The terms "coffeeboiler," and "blackberrypickers" were considered the worst terms of opprobrium we had

in prison. They were applied to that class of stragglers and skulkers, who were only too ready to give

themselves up to the enemy, and who, on coming in, told some gauzy story about "just having stopped to boil

a cup of coffee," or to do something else which they should not have done, when they were gobbled up. It is

not risking much to affirm the probability of Bradley and most of his crowd having belonged to this

The assertion that either the great ChiefofStaff or the still greater WarSecretary were even capable of

applying such epithets to the mass of prisoners is too preposterous to need refutation, or even denial. No

"And now, fellow prisoners, I propose to you this: that we unite in informing our Government that unless we

are exchanged in thirty days, we will be forced by selfpreservation to join the Confederate army."

For an instant his hearers seemed stunned at the fellow's audacity, and then there went up such a roar of

denunciation and execration that the air trembled. The Rebels thought that the whole camp was going to rush

on Bradley and tear him to pieces, and they drew revolvers and leveled muskets to defend him. The uproar

only ceased when Bradley was hurried out of the prisons but for hours everybody was savage and sullen, and

full of threatenings against him, when opportunity served. We never saw him afterward.

Angry as I was, I could not help being amused at the tempestuous rage of a tall, finelooking and well

educated Irish Sergeant of an Illinois regiment. He poured forth denunciations of the traitor and the Rebels,

with the vivid fluency of his Hibernian nature, vowed he'd "give a year of me life, be Js, to have the

handling of the dirty spalpeen for ten minutes; be G d," and finally in his rage, tore off his own shirt and

Imagine my astonishment, some time after getting out of prison, to find the Southern papers publishing as a

defense against the charges in regard to Andersonville, the following document, which they claimed to have

"At a mass meeting held September 28th, 1864, by the Federal prisoners confined at Savannah, Ga., it was

unanimously agreed that the following resolutions be sent to the President of the United States, in the hope

that he might thereby take such steps as in his wisdom he may think necessary for our speedy exchange or

"Resolved, That while we would declare our unbounded love for the Union, for the home of our fathers, and

for the graves of those we venerate, we would beg most respectfully that our situation as prisoners be

diligently inquired into, and every obstacle consistent with the honor and dignity of the Government at once

"Resolved, That while allowing the Confederate authorities all due praise for the attention paid to prisoners,

numbers of our men are daily consigned to early graves, in the prime of manhood, far from home and

kindred, and this is not caused intentionally by the Confederate Government, but by force of circumstances;

the prisoners are forced to go without shelter, and, in a great portion of cases, without medicine.

"Resolved, That, whereas, ten thousand of our brave comrades have descended into an untimely grave within

the last six months, and as we believe their death was caused by the difference of climate, the peculiar kind

and insufficiency of food, and lack of proper medical treatment; and, whereas, those difficulties still remain,

we would declare as our firm belief, that unless we are speedily exchanged, we have no alternative but to

share the lamentable fate of our comrades. Must this thing still go on! Is there no hope?

"Resolved, That, whereas, the cold and inclement season of the year is fast approaching, we hold it to be our

duty as soldiers and citizens of the United States, to inform our Government that the majority of our prisoners

ate without proper clothing, in some cases being almost naked, and are without blankets to protect us from

the scorching sun by day or the heavy dews by night, and we would most respectfully request the

Government to make some arrangement whereby we can be supplied with these, to us, necessary articles.

"Resolved, That, whereas, the term of service of many of our comrades having expired, they, having served

truly and faithfully for the term of their several enlistments, would most respectfully ask their Government,

are they to be forgotten? Are past services to be ignored? Not having seen their wives and little ones for over

three years, they would most respectfully, but firmly, request the Government to make some arrangements

"Resolved, That, whereas, in the fortune of war, it was our lot to become prisoners, we have suffered

patiently, and are still willing to suffer, if by so doing we can benefit the country; but we must most

respectfully beg to say, that we are not willing to suffer to further the ends of any party or clique to the

detriment of our honor, our families, and our country, and we beg that this affair be explained to us, that we

may continue to hold the Government in that respect which is necessary to make a good citizen and soldier.

In regard to the above I will simply say this, that while I cannot pretend to know or even much that went on

around me, I do not think it was possible for a mass meeting of prisoners to have been held without my

knowing it, and its essential features. Still less was it possible for a mass meeting to have been held which

would have adopted any such a document as the above, or anything else that a Rebel would have found the

The reason of our being hurried out of Andersonville under the false pretext of exchange dawned on us

before we had been in Savannah long. If the reader will consult the map of Georgia he will understand this,

too. Let him remember that several of the railroads which now appear were not built then. The road upon

which Andersonville is situated was about one hundred and twenty miles long, reaching from Macon to

Americus, Andersonville being about midway between these two. It had no connections anywhere except at

Macon, and it was hundreds of miles across the country from Andersonville to any other road. When Atlanta

fell it brought our folks to within sixty miles of Macon, and any day they were liable to make a forward

movement, which would capture that place, and have us where we could be retaken with ease.

There was nothing left undone to rouse the apprehensions of the Rebels in that direction. The humiliating

surrender of General Stoneman at Macon in July, showed them what our, folks were thinking of, and

awakened their minds to the disastrous consequences of such a movement when executed by a bolder and

abler commander. Two days of one of Kilpatrick's swift, silent marches would carry his hardriding troopers

around Hood's right flank, and into the streets of Macon, where a half hour's work with the torch on the

bridges across the Ocmulgee and the creeks that enter it at that point, would have cut all of the Confederate

Army of the Tennessee's communications. Another day and night of easy marching would bring his guidons

fluttering through the woods about the Stockade at Andersonville, and give him a reinforcement of twelve or

fifteen thousand ablebodied soldiers, with whom he could have held the whole Valley of the Chattahoochie,

and become the nether millstone, against which Sherman could have ground Hood's army to powder.

Such a thing was not only possible, but very probable, and doubtless would have occurred had we remained

Hence the haste to get us away, and hence the lie about exchange, for, had it not been for this, onequarter at

least of those taken on the cars would have succeeded in getting off and attempted to have reached Sherman's

The removal went on with such rapidity that by the end of September only eight thousand two hundred and

eighteen remained at Andersonville, and these were mostly too sick to be moved; two thousand seven

hundred died in September, fifteen hundred and sixty in October, and four hundred and eightyfive in

November, so that at the beginning of December there were only thirteen hundred and fiftynine remaining.

The larger part of those taken out were sent on to Charleston, and subsequently to Florence and Salisbury.

About six or seven thousand of us, as near as I remember, were brought to Savannah. .......................

We were all exceedingly anxious to know how the Atlanta campaign had ended. So far our information only

comprised the facts that a sharp battle had been fought, and the result was the complete possession of our

great objective point. The manner of accomplishing this glorious end, the magnitude of the engagement, the

regiments, brigades and corps participating, the loss on both sides, the completeness of the victories, etc.,

The Rebel papers said as little as possible about the capture, and the facts in that little were so largely diluted

with fiction as to convey no real information. But few new, prisoners were coming in, and none of these were

from Sherman. However, toward the last of September, a handful of "fresh fish" were turned inside, whom

There was never any difficulty in telling, as far as he could be seen, whether a boy belonged to the East or the

west. First, no one from the Army of the Potomac was ever without his corps badge worn conspicuously; it

was rare to see such a thing on one of Sherman's men. Then there was a dressy air about the Army of the

Potomac that was wholly wanting in the soldiers serving west of the Alleghanies.

The Army, of the Potomac was always near to its base of supplies, always had its stores accessible, and the

care of the clothing and equipments of the men was an essential part of its discipline. A ragged or shabbily

dressed man was a rarity. Dress coats, paper collars, fresh woolen shirts, neatfitting pantaloons, good

comfortable shoes, and trim caps or hats, with all the blazing brass of company letters an inch long,

regimental number, bugle and eagle, according to the Regulations, were as common to Eastern boys as they

The latter usually wore blouses, instead of dress coats, and as a rule their clothing had not been renewed since

the opening, of the campaign and it showed this. Those who wore good boots or shoes generally had to

submit to forcible exchanges by their, captors, and the same was true of head gear. The Rebels were badly off

in regard to hats. They did not have skill and ingenuity enough to make these out of felt or straw, and the

makeshifts they contrived of quilted calico and longleaved pine, were ugly enough to frighten horned

I never blamed them much for wanting to get rid of these, even if they did have to commit a sort of highway

robbery upon defenseless prisoners to do so. To be a traitor in arms was bad certainly, but one never

appreciated the entire magnitude of the crime until he saw a Rebel wearing a calico or a pineleaf hat. Then

The Army of Northern Virginia seemed to have supplied themselves with headgear of Yankee manufacture

of previous years, and they then quit taking the hats of their prisoners. Johnston's Army did not have such

Another thing about the Army of the Potomac was the variety of the uniforms. There were members of

Zouave regiments, wearing baggy breeches of various hues, gaiters, crimson fezes, and profusely braided

jackets. I have before mentioned the queer garb of the "Lost Ducks." (Les Enfants Perdu, Fortyeighth New

One of the most striking uniforms was that of the "Fourteenth Brooklyn." They wore scarlet pantaloons, a

blue jacket handsomely braided, and a red fez, with a white cloth wrapped around the head, turbanfashion.

As a large number of them were captured, they formed quite a picturesque feature of every crowd. They were

Another uniform that attracted much, though not so favorable, attention was that of the Third New Jersey

Cavalry, or First New Jersey Hussars, as they preferred to call themselves. The designer of the uniform must

have had an interest in a curcuma plantation, or else he was a fanatical Orangeman. Each uniform would

furnish occasion enough for a dozen New York riots on the 12th of July. Never was such an eruption of the

yellows seen outside of the jaundiced livery of some Eastern potentate. Down each leg of the pantaloons ran a

stripe of yellow braid one and one half inches wide. The jacket had enormous gilt buttons, and was

embellished with yellow braid until it was difficult to tell whether it was blue cloth trimmed with yellow, or

yellow adorned with blue. From the shoulders swung a little, false hussar jacket, lined with the same flaring

yellow. The vizorless cap was similarly warmed up with the hue of the perfected sunflower. Their saffron

magnificence was like the gorgeous gold of the lilies of the field, and Solomon in all his glory could not have

beau arrayed like one of them. I hope he was not. I want to retain my respect for him. We dubbed these

daffodil cavaliers "Butterflies," and the name stuck to them like a poor relation.

Still another distinction that was always noticeable between the two armies was in the bodily bearing of the

men. The Army of the Potomac was drilled more rigidly than the Western men, and had comparatively few

long marches. Its members had something of the stiffness and precision of English and German soldiery,

while the Western boys had the long, "reachy" stride, and easy swing that made forty miles a day a rather

This was why we knew the new prisoners to be Sherman's boys as soon as they came inside, and we started

for them to hear the news. Inviting them over to our leanto, we told them our anxiety for the story of the

decisive blow that gave us the Central Gate of the Confederacy, and asked them to give it to us.

An intelligent, quickeyed, sunburned boy, without an ounce of surplus flesh on face or limbs, which had

been reduced to grayhound condition by the labors and anxieties of the months of battling between

Chattanooga and Atlanta, seemed to be the accepted talker of the crowd, since all the rest looked at him, as if

"You want to know about how we got Atlanta at last, do you? Well, if you don't know, I should think you

would want to. If I didn't, I'd want somebody to tell me all about it just as soon as he could get to me, for it

was one of the neatest little bits of work that 'old Billy' and his boys ever did, and it got away with Hood so

"Well, first, I'll tell you that we belong to the old Fourteenth Ohio Volunteers, which, if you know anything

about the Army of the Cumberland, you'll remember has just about as good a record as any that trains around

old Pap Thomasand he don't 'low no slouches of any kind near him, eitheryou can bet $500 to a cent on

that, and offer to give back the cent if you win. Ours is Jim Steedman's old regimentyou've all heard of old

Chickamauga Jim, who slashed his division of 7,000 fresh men into the Rebel flank on the second day at

Chickamauga, in a way that made Longstreet wish he'd staid on the Rappahannock, and never tried to get up

any little sociable with the Westerners. If I do say it myself, I believe we've got as good a crowd of square,

standup, trust'emevery minuteinyourlife boys, as ever thawed hardtack and sowbelly. We got all the

grunters and weak sisters fanned out the first year, and since then we've been on a business basis, all the time.

We're in a mighty good brigade, too. Most of the regiments have been with us since we formed the first

brigade Pap Thomas ever commanded, and waded with him through the mud of Kentucky, from Wild Cat to

Mill Springs, where he gave Zollicoffer just a little the awfulest thrashing that a Rebel General ever got. That,

you know, was in January, 1862, and was the first victory gained by the Western Army, and our people felt

"Yes, yes; we've read all about that," we broke in, "and we'd like to hear it again, some other time; but tell us

"All right. Let's see: where was I? O, yes, talking about our brigade. It is the Third Brigade, of the Third

Division, of the Fourteenth Corps, and is made up of the Fourteenth Ohio, Thirtyeighth Ohio, Tenth

Kentucky, and Seventyfourth Indiana. Our old ColonelGeorge P. Este commands it. We never liked

him very well in camp, but I tell you he's a whole team in a fight, and he'd do so well there that all would take

"Now, isn't that strange," broke in Andrews, who was given to fits of speculation of psychological

phenomena: "None of us yearn to die, but the surest way to gain the affection of the boys is to show zeal in

leading them into scrapes where the chances of getting shot are the best. Courage in action, like charity,

covers a multitude of sins. I have known it to make the most unpopular man in the battalion, the most popular

inside of half an hour. Now, M.(addressing himself to me,) you remember Lieutenant H., of our battalion.

You know he was a very fancy young fellow; wore as snipish' clothes as the tailor could make, had gold lace

on his jacket wherever the regulations would allow it, decorated his shoulders with the stunningest pair of

shoulder knots I ever saw, and so on. Well, he did not stay with us long after we went to the front. He went

back on a detail for a court martial, and staid a good while. When he rejoined us, he was not in good odor, at

all, and the boys weren't at all careful in saying unpleasant things when he could hear them, A little while

after he came back we made that reconnaissance up on the Virginia Road. We stirred up the Johnnies with

our skirmish line, and while the firing was going on in front we sat on our horses in line, waiting for the order

to move forward and engage. You know how solemn such moments are. I looked down the line and saw

Lieutenant H. at the right of Company, in command of it. I had not seen him since he came back, and I

"How his boys did cheer him. When the bugle sounded forward, trot,' his company sailed in as if they meant

it, and swept the Johnnies off in short meter. You never heard anybody say anything against Lieutenant after

"You know how it was with Captain G., of our regiment," said one of the Fourteenth to another. "He was

promoted from Orderly Sergeant to a Second Lieutenant, and assigned to Company D. All the members of

Company D went to headquarters in a body, and protested against his being put in their company, and he was

not. Well, he behaved so well at Chickamauga that the boys saw that they had done him a great injustice, and

all those that still lived went again to headquarters, and asked to take all back that they had said, and to have

"I was telling about our brigade," resumed the narrator. "Of course, we think our regiment's the best by long

odds in the armyevery fellow thinks that of his regimentbut next to it come the other regiments of our

"Sherman had stretched out his right away to the south and west of Atlanta. About the middle of August our

corps, commanded by Jefferson C. Davis, was lying in works at Utoy Creek, a couple of miles from Atlanta.

We could see the tall steeples and the high buildings of the City quite plainly. Things had gone on dull and

quiet like for about ten days. This was longer by a good deal than we had been at rest since we left Resaca in

the Spring. We knew that something was brewing, and that it must come to a head soon.

"I belong to Company C. Our little messnow reduced to three by the loss of two of our best soldiers and

cooks, Disbrow and Sulier, killed behind headlogs in front of Atlanta, by sharpshootershad one fellow

that we called 'Observer,' because he had such a faculty of picking up news in his prowling around

headquarters. He brought us in so much of this, and it was generally so reliable that we frequently made up

his absence from duty by taking his place. He was never away from a fight, though. On the night of the 25th

of August, 'Observer' came in with the news that something was in the wind. Sherman was getting awful

restless, and we had found out that this always meant lots of trouble to our friends on the other side.

"Sure enough, orders came to get ready to move, and the next night we all moved to the right and rear, out of

sight of the Johnnies. Our well built works were left in charge of Garrard's Cavalry, who concealed their

horses in the rear, and came up and took our places. The whole army except the Twentieth Corps moved

quietly off, and did it so nicely that we were gone some time before the enemy suspected it. Then the

Twentieth Corps pulled out towards the North, and fell back to the Chattahoochie, making quite a shove of

retreat. The Rebels snapped up the bait greedily. They thought the siege was being raised, and they poured

over their works to hurry the Twentieth boys off. The Twentieth fellows let them know that there was lots of

sting in them yet, and the Johnnies were not long in discovering that it would have been money in their

pockets if they had let that 'moonandstar' (that's the Twentieth's badge, you know) crowd alone.

"But the Rebs thought the rest of us were gone for good and that Atlanta was saved. Naturally they felt

mighty happy over it; and resolved to have a big celebrationa ball, a meeting of jubilee, etc. Extra trains

were run in, with girls and women from the surrounding country, and they just had a high old time.

"In the meantime we were going through so many different kinds of tactics that it looked as if Sherman was

really crazy this time, sure. Finally we made a grand left wheel, and then went forward a long way in line of

battle. It puzzled us a good deal, but we knew that Sherman couldn't get us into any scrape that Pap Thomas

"Along on the evening of the 31st our right wing seemed to have run against a hornet's nest, and we could

hear the musketry and cannon speak out real spiteful, but nothing came down our way. We had struck the

railroad leading south from Atlanta to Macon, and began tearing it up. The jollity at Atlanta was stopped right

in the middle by the appalling news that the Yankees hadn't retreated worth a cent, but had broken out in a

new and much worse spot than ever. Then there was no end of trouble all around, and Hood started part of his

"Part of Hardee's and Pat Cleburne's command went into position in front of us. We left them alone till

Stanley could come up on our left, and swing around, so as to cut off their retreat, when we would bag every

one of them. But Stanley was as slow as he always was, and did not come up until it was too late, and the

"The sun was just going down on the evening of the 1st of September, when we began to see we were in for

it, sure. The Fourteenth Corps wheeled into position near the railroad, and the sound of musketry and artillery

became very loud and clear on our front and left. We turned a little and marched straight toward the racket,

becoming more excited every minute. We saw the Carlin's brigade of regulars, who were some distance

ahead of us, pile knapsacks, form in line, fix bayonets, and dash off with arousing cheer.

"The Rebel fire beat upon them like a Summer rainstorm, the ground shook with the noise, and just as we

reached the edge of the cotton field, we saw the remnant of the brigade come flying back out of the awful,

"Yes," interrupts one of the Fourteenth; " and they made that charge right gamely, too, I can tell you. They

were good soldiers, and well led. When we went over the works, I remember seeing the body of a little Major

of one of the regiments lying right on the top. If he hadn't been killed he'd been inside in a halfadozen

"When we saw this," resumed the narrator, "it set our fellows fairly wild; they became just crying mad; I

never saw them so before. The order came to strip for the charge, and our knapsacks were piled in half a

minute. A Lieutenant of our company, who was then on the staff of Gen. Baird, our division commander,

rode slowly down the line and gave us our instructions to load our guns, fix bayonets, and hold fire until we

were on top of the Rebel works. Then Colonel Este sang out clear and steady as a bugle signal:

"and we started. Heavens, how they did let into us, as we came up into range. They had ten pieces of artillery,

and more men behind the breastworks than we had in line, and the fire they poured on us was simply

withering. We walked across the hundreds of dead and dying of the regular brigade, and at every step our

own men fell down among them. General Baud's horse was shot down, and the General thrown far over his

head, but he jumped up and ran alongside of us. Major Wilson, our regimental commander, fell mortally

wounded; Lieutenant Kirk was killed, and also Captain Stopfard, Adjutant General of the brigade.

Lieutenants Cobb and Mitchell dropped with wounds that proved fatal in a few days. Captain Ugan lost an

arm, onethird of the enlisted men fell, but we went straight ahead, the grape and the musketry becoming

worse every step, until we gained the edge of the hill, where we were checked a minute by the brush, which

the Rebels had fixed up in the shape of abattis. Just then a terrible fire from a new direction, our left, swept

down the whole length of our line. The Colonel of the Seventeenth New Yorkas gallant a man as ever

lived saw the new trouble, took his regiment in on the run, and relieved us of this, but he was himself

mortally wounded. If our boys were halfcrazy before, they were frantic now, and as we got out of the

entanglement of the brush, we raised a fearful yell and ran at the works. We climbed the sides, fired right

down into the defenders, and then began with the bayonet and sword. For a few minutes it was simply awful.

On both sides men acted like infuriated devils. They dashed each other's brains out with clubbed muskets;

bayonets were driven into men's bodies up to the muzzle of the gun; officers ran their swords through their

opponents, and revolvers, after being emptied into the faces of the Rebels, were thrown with desperate force

into the ranks. In our regiment was a stout German butcher named Frank Fleck. He became so excited that he

threw down his sword, and rushed among the Rebels with his bare fists, knocking down a swath of them. He

"Py Gott, I've no patience mit you,' and knocked him sprawling. He caught hold of the commander of the

Rebel Brigade, and snatched him back over the works by main strength. Wonderful to say, he escaped unhurt,

"The Tenth Kentucky, by the queerest luck in the world, was matched against the Rebel Ninth Kentucky. The

commanders of the two regiments were brothersinlaw, and the men relatives, friends, acquaintances and

schoolmates. They hated each other accordingly, and the fight between them was more bitter, if possible, than

anywhere else on the line. The ThirtyEighth Ohio and Seventyfourth Indiana put in some work that was

just magnificent. We hadn't time to look at it then, but the dead and wounded piled up after the fight told the

"We gradually forced our way over the works, but the Rebels were game to the last, and we had to make

them surrender almost one at a time. The artillerymen tried to fire on us when we were so close we could lay

"Finally nearly all in the works surrendered, and were disarmed and marched back. Just then an aid came

dashing up with the information that we must turn the works, and get ready to receive Hardee, who was

advancing to retake the position. We snatched up some shovels lying near, and began work. We had no time

to remove the dead and dying Rebels on the works, and the dirt we threw covered them up. It proved a false

alarm. Hardee had as much as he could do to save his own hide, and the affair ended about dark.

"When we came to count up what we had gained, we found that we had actually taken more prisoners from

behind breastworks than there were in our brigade when we started the charge. We had made the only really

successful bayonet charge of the campaign. Every other time since we left Chattanooga the party standing on

the defensive had been successful. Here we had taken strong double lines, with ten guns, seven battle flags,

and over two thousand prisoners. We had lost terriblynot less than onethird of the brigade, and many of

our best men. Our regiment went into the battle with fifteen officers; nine of these were killed or wounded,

and seven of the nine lost either their limbs or lives. The ThirtyEighth Ohio, and the other regiments of the

brigade lost equally heavy. We thought Chickamauga awful, but Jonesboro discounted it."

"Do you know," said another of the Fourteenth, "I heard our Surgeon telling about how that Colonel Grower,

of the Seventeenth New York, who came in so splendidly on our left, died? They say he was a Wall Street

broker, before the war. He was hit shortly after he led his regiment in, and after the fight, was carried back to

the hospital. While our Surgeon was going the rounds Colonel Grower called him, and said quietly, 'When

"The Doctor would have attended to him then, but Grower wouldn't let him. After he got through he went

back to Grower, examined his wound, and told him that he could only live a few hours. Grower received the

news tranquilly, had the Doctor write a letter to his wife, and gave him his things to send her, and then

"Well, then, do give me morphia enough to put me to sleep, so that I will wake up only in another world.'

"The Doctor did so; Colonel Grower thanked him; wrung his hand, bade him goodby, and went to sleep to

"Do you believe in presentiments and superstitions?" said another of the Fourteenth. There was Fisher Pray,

Orderly Sergeant of Company I. He came from Waterville, O., where his folks are now living. The day before

we started out he had a presentiment that we were going into a fight, and that he would be killed. He couldn't

shake it off. He told the Lieutenant, and some of the boys about it, and they tried to ridicule him out of it, but

it was no good. When the sharp firing broke out in front some of the boys said, 'Fisher, I do believe you are

right,' and he nodded his head mournfully. When we were piling knapsacks for the charge, the Lieutenant,

"So he went into the fight, and was killed, as he knew he would be. Now, that's what I call nerve."

"The same thing was true of Sergeant Arthur Tarbox, of Company A," said the narrator; "he had a

presentiment, too; he knew he was going to be killed, if he went in, and he was offered an honorable chance

"Well, we staid there the next day, buried our dead, took care of our wounded, and gathered up the plunder

we had taken from the Johnnies. The rest of the army went off, 'hot blocks,' after Hardee and the rest of

Hood's army, which it was hoped would be caught outside of entrenchments. But Hood had too much the

start, and got into the works at Lovejoy, ahead of our fellows. The night before we heard several very loud

explosions up to the north. We guessed what that meant, and so did the Twentieth Corps, who were lying

back at the Chattahoochee, and the next morning the General commandingSlocumsent out a

reconnaissance. It was met by the Mayor of Atlanta, who said that the Rebels had blown up their stores and

retreated. The Twentieth Corps then came in and took 'possession of the City, and the next daythe

3dSherman came in, and issued an order declaring the campaign at an end, and that we would rest awhile

"We laid around Atlanta a good while, and things quieted down so that it seemed almost like peace, after the

four months of continual fighting we had gone through. We had been under a strain so long that now we boys

went in the other direction, and became too careless, and that's how we got picked up. We went out about five

miles one night after a lot of nice smoked hams that a nigger told us were stored in an old cotton press, and

which we knew would be enough sight better eating for Company C, than the commissary pork we had lived

on so long. We found the cotton press, and the hams, just as the nigger told us, and we hitched up a team to

take them into camp. As we hadn't seen any Johnny signs anywhere, we set our guns down to help load the

meat, and just as we all came stringing out to the wagon with as much meat as we could carry, a company of

Ferguson's Cavalry popped out of the woods about one hundred yards in front of us and were on top of us

Charley Barbour was one of the truesthearted and bestliked of my schoolboy chums and friends. For

several terms we sat together on the same uncompromisingly uncomfortable bench, worried over the same

boy maddening problems in "Ray's ArithmeticPart III.," learned the same jargon of meaningless rules from

"Greene's Grammar," pondered over "Mitchell's Geography and Atlas," and tried in vain to understand why

Providence made the surface of one State obtrusively pink and another ultramarine blue; trod slowly and

painfully over the rugged road "Bullion" points out for beginners in Latin, and began to believe we should

hate ourselves and everybody else, if we were gotten up after the manner shown by "Cutter's Physiology."

We were caught together in the same long series of schoolboy scrapesand were usually ferruled together

by the same strongarmed teacher. We shared nearly everything our fun and work; enjoyment and

annoyanceall were generally meted out to us together. We read from the same books the story of the

wonderful world we were going to see in that bright future "when we were men;" we spent our Saturdays and

vacations in the miniature explorations of the rocky hills and caves, and dark cedar woods around our homes,

to gather ocular helps to a better comprehension of that magical land which we were convinced began just

beyond our horizon, and had in it, visible to the eye of him who traveled through its enchanted breadth, all

that "Gulliver's Fables," the "Arabian Nights," and a hundred books of travel and adventure told of.

We imagined that the only dull and commonplace spot on earth was that where we lived. Everywhere else life

Brave and handsome young men were rescuing distressed damsels, beautiful as they were wealthy; bloody

pirates and swarthy murderers were being foiled by quaint spoken backwoodsmen, who carried unerring

rifles; gallant but blundering Irishmen, speaking the most delightful brogue, and making the funniest

mistakes, were daily thwarting cool and determined villains; bold tars were encountering fearful sea perils;

lionhearted adventurers were cowing and quelling whole tribes of barbarians; magicians were casting spells,

misers hoarding gold, scientists making astonishing discoveries, poor and unknown boys achieving wealth

and fame at a single bound, hidden mysteries coming to light, and so the world was going on, making reams

of history with each diurnal revolution, and furnishing boundless material for the most delightful books.

At the age of thirteen a perusal of the lives of Benjamin Franklin and Horace Greeley precipitated my

determination to no longer hesitate in launching my small bark upon the great ocean. I ran away from home

in a truly romantic way, and placed my foot on what I expected to be the first round of the ladder of fame, by

becoming "devil boy" in a printing office in a distant large City. Charley's attachment to his mother and his

home was too strong to permit him to take this step, and we parted in sorrow, mitigated on my side by roseate

Six years passed. One hot August morning I met an old acquaintance at the Creek, in Andersonville. He told

me to come there the next morning, after rollcall, and he would take me to see some person who was very

anxious to meet me. I was prompt at the rendezvous, and was soon joined by the other party. He threaded his

way slowly for over half an hour through the closelyjumbled mass of tents and burrows, and at length

stopped in front of a blankettent in the northwestern corner. The occupant rose and took my hand. For an

instant I was puzzled; then the clear, blue eyes, and wellremembered smile recalled to me my oldtime

comrade, Charley Barbour. His story was soon told. He was a Sergeant in a Western Virginia cavalry

regimentthe Fourth, I think. At the time Hunter was making his retreat from the Valley of Virginia, it was

decided to mislead the enemy by sending out a courier with false dispatches to be captured. There was a call

for a volunteer for this service. Charley was the first to offer, with that spirit of generous selfsacrifice that

was one of his pleasantest traits when a boy. He knew what he had to expect. Capture meant imprisonment at

Andersonville; our men had now a pretty clear understanding of what this was. Charley took the dispatches

and rode into the enemy's lines. He was taken, and the false information produced the desired effect. On his

way to Andersonville he was stripped of all his clothing but his shirt and pantaloons, and turned into the

Stockade in this condition. When I saw him he had been in a week or more. He told his story quietlyalmost

diffidentlynot seeming aware that he had done more than his simple duty. I left him with the promise and

expectation of returning the next day, but when I attempted to find him again, I was lost in the maze of tents

and burrows. I had forgotten to ask the number of his detachment, and after spending several days in hunting

for him, I was forced to give the search up. He knew as little of my whereabouts, and though we were all the

time within seventeen hundred feet of each other, neither we nor our common acquaintance could ever

manage to meet again. This will give the reader an idea of the throng compressed within the narrow limits of

the Stockade. After leaving Andersonville, however, I met this man once more, and learned from him that

On the evening of the 11th of October there came an order for one thousand prisoners to fall in and march

Of course, Andrews and I "flanked" into this crowd. That was our usual way of doing. Holding that the

chances were strongly in favor of every movement of prisoners being to our lines, we never failed to be

numbered in the first squad of prisoners that were sent out. The seductive mirage of "exchange" was always

luring us on. It must come some time, certainly, and it would be most likely to come to those who were most

earnestly searching for it. At all events, we should leave no means untried to avail ourselves of whatever

seeming chances there might be. There could be no other motive for this move, we argued, than exchange.

The Confederacy was not likely to be at the trouble and expense of hauling us about the country without

some good reasonsomething better than a wish to make us acquainted with Southern scenery and

topography. It would hardly take us away from Savannah so soon after bringing us there for any other

The Rebels encouraged this belief with direct assertions of its truth. They framed a plausible lie about there

having arisen some difficulty concerning the admission of our vessels past the harbor defenses of Savannah,

which made it necessary to take us elsewhereprobably to Charlestonfor delivery to our men.

Wishes are always the most powerful allies of belief. There is little difficulty in convincing a man of that of

which he wants to be convinced. We forgot the lie told us when we were taken from Andersonville, and

Andrews and I hastily snatched our worldly possessionsour overcoat, blanket, can, spoon, chessboard and

men, yelled to some of our neighbors that they could have our hitherto muchtreasured house, and running

down to the gate, forced ourselves well up to the front of the crowd that was being assembled to go out.

The usual scenes accompanying the departure of first squads were being acted tumultuously. Every one in the

camp wanted to be one of the supposedtobefavored few, and if not selected at first, tried to "flank

in"that is, slip into the place of some one else who had had better luck. This one naturally resisted

displacement, 'vi et armis,' and the fights would become so general as to cause a resemblance to the famed

The lines of the selected would dress up compactly, and outsiders trying to force themselves in would get

We finally got out of the pen, and into the cars, which soon rolled away to the westward. We were packed in

too densely to be able to lie down. We could hardly sit down. Andrews and I took up our position in one

corner, piled our little treasures under us, and trying to lean against each other in such a way as to afford

When morning came we found ourselves running northwest through a poor, pinebarren country that

strongly resembled that we had traversed in coming to Savannah. The more we looked at it the more familiar

By noon we had reached Milleneighty miles from Savannah, and fifty three from Augusta. It was the

junction of the road leading to Macon and that running to Augusta. We halted a little while at the "Y," and to

us the minutes were full of anxiety. If we turned off to the left we were going back to Andersonville. If we

took the right hand road we were on the way to Charleston or Richmond, with the chances in favor of

At length we started, and, to our joy, our engine took the right hand track. We stopped again, after a run of

five miles, in the midst of one of the open, scattering forests of long leaved pine that I have before described.

We were ordered out of the cars, and marching a few rods, came in sight of another of those hateful

Stockades, which seemed to be as natural products of the Sterile sand of that dreary land as its desolate

Again our hearts sank, and death seemed more welcome than incarceration in those gloomy wooden walls.

We marched despondently up to the gates of the Prison, and halted while a party of Rebel clerks made a list

of our names, rank, companies, and regiments. As they were Rebels it was slow work. Reading and writing

never came by nature, as Dogberry would say, to any man fighting for Secession. As a rule, he took to them

as reluctantly as if, he thought them cunning inventions of the Northern Abolitionist to perplex and

demoralize him. What a halfdozen boys taken out of our own ranks would have done with ease in an hour or

so, these Rebels worried over all of the afternoon, and then their register of us was so imperfect, badly written

and misspelled, that the Yankee clerks afterwards detailed for the purpose, never could succeed in reducing it

We learned that the place at which we had arrived was Camp Lawton, but we almost always spoke of it as

Shortly after dark we were turned inside the Stockade. Being the first that had entered, there was quite a

quantity of woodthe offal from the timber used in constructing the Stockadelying on the ground. The

night was chilly one we soon had a number of fires blazing. Green pitch pine, when burned, gives off a

peculiar, pungent odor, which is never forgotten by one who has once smelled it. I first became acquainted

with it on entering Andersonville, and to this day it is the most powerful remembrance I can have of the

opening of that dreadful Iliad of woes. On my journey to Washington of late years the locomotives are

invariably fed with pitch pine as we near the Capital, and as the wellremembered smell reaches me, I grow

sick at heart with the flood of saddening recollections indissolubly associated with it.

As our fires blazed up the clinging, penetrating fumes diffused themselves everywhere. The night was as cool

as the one when we arrived at Andersonville, the earth, meagerly sodded with sparse, hard, wiry grass, was

the same; the same piney breezes blew in from the surrounding trees, the same dismal owls hooted at us; the

same mournful whippoor will lamented, God knows what, in the gathering twilight. What we both felt in

the gloomy recesses of downcast hearts Andrews expressed as he turned to me with:

A cupful of corn meal was issued to each of us. I hunted up some water. Andrews made a stiff dough, and

spread it about half an inch thick on the back of our chessboard. He propped this up before the fire, and when

the surface was neatly browned over, slipped it off the board and turned it over to brown the other side

similarly. This done, we divided it carefully between us, swallowed it in silence, spread our old overcoat on

the ground, tucked chessboard, can, and spoon under far enough to be out of the reach of thieves, adjusted

the thin blanket so as to get the most possible warmth out of it, crawled in close together, and went to sleep.

This, thank Heaven, we could do; we could still sleep, and Nature had some opportunity to repair the waste of

In the morning we took a survey of our new quarters, and found that we were in a Stockade resembling very

much in construction and dimensions that at Andersonville. The principal difference was that the upright logs

were in their rough state, whereas they were hewed at Andersonville, and the brook running through the camp

Our next move was to make the best of the situation. We were divided into hundreds, each commanded by a

Sergeant. Ten hundreds constituted a division, the head of which was also a Sergeant. I was elected by my

comrades to the Sergeantcy of the Second Hundred of the First Division. As soon as we were assigned to our

ground, we began constructing shelter. For the first and only time in my prison experience, we found a full

supply of material for this purpose, and the use we made of it showed how infinitely better we would have

fared if in each prison the Rebels had done even so slight a thing as to bring in a few logs from the

surrounding woods and distribute them to us. A hundred or so of these would probably have saved thousands

A large tree lay on the ground assigned to our hundred. Andrews and I took possession of one side of the ten

feet nearest the butt. Other boys occupied the rest in a similar manner. One of our boys had succeeded in

smuggling an ax in with him, and we kept it in constant use day and night, each group borrowing it for an

hour or so at a time. It was as dull as a hoe, and we were very weak, so that it was slow work "niggering

off"(as the boys termed it) a cut of the log. It seemed as if beavers could have gnawed it off easier and

more quickly. We only cut an inch or so at a time, and then passed the ax to the next users. Making little

wedges with a dull knife, we drove them into the log with clubs, and split off long, thin strips, like the

weatherboards of a house, and by the time we had split off our share of the log in this slow and laborious

way, we had a fine lot of these strips. We were lucky enough to find four forked sticks, of which we made the

corners of our dwelling, and roofed it carefully with our strips, held in place by sods torn up from the edge of

the creek bank. The sides and ends were enclosed; we gathered enough pine tops to cover the ground to a

depth of several inches; we banked up the outside, and ditched around it, and then had the most comfortable

abode we had during our prison career. It was truly a house builded with our own hands, for we had no tools

whatever save the occasional use of the aforementioned dull axe and equally dull knife.

The rude little hut represented as much actual hard, manual labor as would be required to build a comfortable

little cottage in the North, but we gladly performed it, as we would have done any other work to better our

For a while wood was quite plentiful, and we had the luxury daily of warm fires, which the increasing

Other prisoners kept coming in. Those we left behind at Savannah followed us, and the prison there was

broken up. Quite a number also came in fromAndersonville, so that in a little while we had between six

and seven thousand in the Stockade. The last comers found all the material for tents and all the fuel used up,

The commandant of the prisonone Captain Boweswas the best of his class it was my fortune to meet.

Compared with the senseless brutality of Wirz, the reckless deviltry of Davis, or the stupid malignance of

He enforced discipline better than any of those named, but has what they all lackedexecutive abilityand

he secured results that they could not possibly attain, and without anything, like the friction that attended

their efforts. I do not remember that any one was shot during our six weeks' stay at Millena circumstance

simply remarkable, since I do not recall a single week passed anywhere else without at least one murder by

One instance will illustrate the difference of his administration from that of other prison commandants. He

came upon the grounds of our division one morning, accompanied by a pleasantfaced, intelligent

"Gentlemen: (The only instance during our imprisonment when we received so polite a designation.) This is

my son, who will hereafter call your roll. He will treat you as gentlemen, and I know you will do the same to

This understanding was observed to the letter on both sides. Young Bowes invariably spoke civilly to us, and

we obeyed his orders with a prompt cheerfulness that left him nothing to complain of.

The only charge I have to make against Bowes is made more in detail in another chapter, and that is, that he

took money from well prisoners for giving them the first chance to go through on the Sick Exchange. How

culpable this was I must leave each reader to decide for himself. I thought it very wrong at the time, but

possibly my views might have been colored highly by my not having any money wherewith to procure my

Of one thing I am certain: that his acceptance of money to bias his official action was not singular on his part.

I am convinced that every commandant we had over usexcept Wirzwas habitually in the receipt of

bribes from prisoners. I never heard that any one succeeded in bribing Wirz, and this is the sole good thing I

can say of that fellow. Against this it may be said, however, that he plundered the boys so effectually on

entering the prison as to leave them little of the wherewithal to bribe anybody.

Davis was probably the most unscrupulous bribetaker of the lot. He actually received money for permitting

prisoners to escape to our lines, and got down to as low a figure as one hundred dollars for this sort of

The rations issued to us were somewhat better than those of Andersonville, as the meal was finer and better,

though it was absurdedly insufficient in quantity, and we received no salt. On several occasions fresh beef

was dealt out to us, and each time the excitement created among those who had not tasted fresh meat for

weeks and months was wonderful. On the first occasion the meat was simply the heads of the cattle killed for

the use of the guards. Several wagon loads of these were brought in and distributed. We broke them up so

that every man got a piece of the bone, which was boiled and reboiled, as long as a single bubble of grease

would rise to the surface of the water; every vestige of meat was gnawed and scraped from the surface and

then the bone was charred until it crumbled, when it was eaten. No one who has not experienced it can

imagine the inordinate hunger for animal food of those who had eaten little else than corn bread for so long.

Our exhausted bodies were perishing for lack of proper sustenance. Nature indicated fresh beef as the best

medium to repair the great damage already done, and our longing for it became beyond description.

Our old antagoniststhe Raiderswere present in strong force in Millen. Like ourselves, they had imagined

the departure from Andersonville was for exchange, and their relations to the Rebels were such that they were

all given a chance to go with the first squads. A number had been allowed to go with the sailors on the

Special Naval Exchange from Savannah, in the place of sailors and marines who had died. On the way to

Charleston a fight had taken place between them and the real sailors, during which one of their numbera

curlyheaded Irishman named Dailey, who was in such high favor with the Rebels that he was given the

place of driving the ration wagon that came in the North Side at Andersonville was killed, and thrown

After things began to settle into shape at Millen, they seemed to believe that they were in such ascendancy as

to numbers and organization that they could put into execution their schemes of vengeance against those of us

who had been active participants in the execution of their confederates at Andersonville.

After some little preliminaries they settled upon Corporal "Wat" Payne, of my company, as their first victim.

The reader will remember Payne as one of the two Corporals who pulled the trigger to the scaffold at the time

Payne was a very good man physically, and was yet in fair condition. The Raiders came up one day with their

best manPete Donnellyand provoked a fight, intending, in the course of it, to kill Payne. We, who knew

Payee, felt reasonably confident of his ability to handle even so redoubtable a pugilist as Donnelly, and we

The fight began after the usual amount of bad talk on both sides, and we were pleased to see our man slowly

get the better of the New York plug ugly. After several sharp rounds they closed, and still Payne was ahead,

but in an evil moment he spied a pine knot at his feet, which he thought he could reach, and end the fight by

cracking Donnelly's head with it. Donnelly took instant advantage of the movement to get it, threw Payne

heavily, and fell upon him. His crowd rushed in to finish our man by clubbing him over the head. We sailed

in to prevent this, and after a rattling exchange of blows all around, succeeded in getting Payne away.

The issue of the fight seemed rather against us, however, and the Raiders were much emboldened. Payne kept

close to his crowd after that, and as we had shown such an entire willingness to stand by him, the Raiders

with their accustomed prudence when real fighting was involveddid not attempt to molest him farther,

A few days after this Sergeant Goody and Corporal Ned Carrigan, both of our battalion, came in. I must ask

the reader to again recall the fact that Sergeant Goody was one of the six hangmen who put the mealsacks

over the heads, and the ropes around the necks of the condemned. Corporal Carrigan was the gigantic prize

fighter, who was universally acknowledged to be the best man physically among the whole thirtyfour

thousand in Andersonville. The Raiders knew that Goody had come in before we of his own battalion did.

They resolved to kill him then and there, and in broad daylight. He had secured in some way a shelter tent,

and was inside of it fixing it up. The Raider crowd, headed by Pete Donnelly, and Dick Allen, went up to his

Goody, supposing it was one of us, came crawling out on his hands and knees. As he did so their heavy clubs

crashed down upon his head. He was neither killed nor stunned, as they had reason to expect. He succeeded

in rising to his feet, and breaking through the crowd of assassins. He dashed down the side of the hill, hotly

pursued by them. Coming to the Creek, he leaped it in his excitement, but his pursuers could not, and were

checked. One of our battalion boys, who saw and comprehended the whole affair, ran over to us, shouting:

We snatched up our clubs and started after the Raiders, but before we could reach them, Ned Carrigan, who

also comprehended what the trouble was, had run to the side of Goody, armed with a terrible looking club.

The sight of Ned, and the demonstration that he was thoroughly aroused, was enough for the Raider crew,

and they abandoned the field hastily. We did not feel ourselves strong enough to follow them on to their own

dung hill, and try conclusions with them, but we determined to report the matter to the Rebel Commandant,

from whom we had reason to believe we could expect assistance. We were right. He sent in a squad of

guards, arrested Dick Allen, Pete Donnelly, and several other ringleaders, took them out and put them in the

stocks in such a manner that they were compelled to lie upon their stomachs. A shallow tin vessel containing

They staid there a day and night, and when released, joined the Rebel Army, entering the artillery company

that manned the guns in the fort covering the prison. I used to imagine with what zeal they would send us

This gave us good riddanceof our dangerous enemies, and we had little further trouble with any of them.

The depression in the temperature made me very sensible of the deficiencies in my wardrobe. Unshod feet, a

shirt like a fishing net, and pantaloons as well ventilated as a paling fence might do very well for the broiling

sun at Andersonville and Savannah, but now, with the thermometer nightly dipping a little nearer the frost

line, it became unpleasantly evident that as garments their office was purely perfunctory; one might say

ornamental simply, if he wanted to be very sarcastic. They were worn solely to afford convenient quarters for

multitudes of lice, and in deference to the prejudice which has existed since the Fall of Man against our

mingling with our fellow creatures in the attire provided us by Nature. Had I read Darwin then I should have

expected that my long exposure to the weather would start a fine suit of fur, in the effort of Nature to adapt,

me to my, environment. But no more indications of this appeared than if I had been a hairless dog of Mexico,

suddenly transplanted to more northern latitudes. Providence did not seem to be in the

temperingthewindtotheshornlamb business, as far as I was concerned. I still retained an almost

unconquerable prejudice against stripping the dead to secure clothes, and so unless exchange or death came

One morning about day break, Andrews, who had started to go to another part of the camp, came slipping

back in a state of gleeful excitement. At first I thought he either had found a tunnel or had heard some good

news about exchange. It was neither. He opened his jacket and handed me an infantry man's blouse, which he

had found in the main street, where it had dropped out of some fellow's bundle. We did not make any extra

exertion to find the owner. Andrews was in sore need of clothes himself, but my necessities were so much

greater that the generous fellow thought of my wants first. We examined the garment with as much interest as

ever a belle bestowed on a new dress from Worth's. It was in fair preservation, but the owner had cut the

buttons off to trade to the guard, doubtless for a few sticks of wood, or a spoonful of salt. We supplied the

place of these with little wooden pins, and I donned the garment as a shirt and coat and vest, too, for that

matter. The best suit I ever put on never gave me a hundredth part the satisfaction that this did. Shortly after, I

managed to subdue my aversion so far as to take a good shoe which a onelegged dead man had no farther

use for, and a little later a comrade gave me for the other foot a boot bottom from which he had cut the top to

The day of the Presidential election of 1864 approached. The Rebels were naturally very much interested in

the result, as they believed that the election of McClellan meant compromise and cessation of hostilities,

while the reelection of Lincoln meant prosecution of the War to the bitter end. The toadying Raiders, who

were perpetually hanging around the gate to get a chance to insinuate themselves into the favor of the Rebel

officers, persuaded them that we were all so bitterly hostile to our Government for not exchanging us that if

we were allowed to vote we would cast an overwhelming majority in favor of McClellan.

The Rebels thought that this might perhaps be used to advantage as political capital for their friends in the

North. They gave orders that we might, if we chose, hold an election on the same day of the Presidential

election. They sent in some ballot boxes, and we elected Judges of the Election.

About noon of that day Captain Bowes, and a crowd of tightbooted, broad hatted Rebel officers, strutted in

with the peculiar "Efyerdon't b'lieveI'mabutcherjestsmello'mebutes" swagger characteristic of

the class. They had come in to see us all voting for McClellan. Instead, they found the polls surrounded with

"Walk right up here now, and get your UnconditionalUnionAbrahamLincoln tickets!"

"Vote the Lincoln ticket; vote to whip the Rebels, and make peace with them when they've laid down their

The Rebel officers did not find the scene what their fancy painted it, and turning around they strutted out.

When the votes came to be counted out there were over seven thousand for Lincoln, and not half that many

hundred for McClellan. The latter got very few votes outside the Raider crowd. The same day a similar

election was held in Florence, with like result. Of course this did not indicate that there was any such a

preponderance of Republicans among us. It meant simply that the Democratic boys, little as they might have

liked Lincoln, would have voted for him a hundred times rather than do anything to please the Rebels.

One day in November, some little time after the occurrences narrated in the last chapter, orders came in to

make out rolls of all those who were born outside of the United States, and whose terms of service had

We held a little council among ourselves as to the meaning of this, and concluded that some partial exchange

had been agreed on, and the Rebels were going to send back the class of boys whom they thought would be

of least value to the Government. Acting on this conclusion the great majority of us enrolled ourselves as

foreigners, and as having served out our terms. I made out the roll of my hundred, and managed to give every

man a foreign nativity. Those whose names would bear it were assigned to England, Ireland, Scotland France

and Germany, and the balance were distributed through Canada and the West Indies. After finishing the roll

and sending it out, I did not wonder that the Rebels believed the battles for the Union were fought by foreign

mercenaries. The other rolls were made out in the same way, and I do not suppose that they showed five

The next day after sending out the rolls, there came an order that all those whose names appeared thereon

should fall in. We did so, promptly, and as nearly every man in camp was included, we fell in as for other

purposes, by hundreds and thousands. We were then marched outside, and massed around a stump on which

stood a Rebel officer, evidently waiting to make us a speech. We awaited his remarks with the greatest

impatience, but He did not begin until the last division had marched out and came to a parade rest close to the

"Prisoners, you can no longer have any doubt that your Government has cruelly abandoned you; it makes no

efforts to release you, and refuses all our offers of exchange. We are anxious to get our men back, and have

made every effort to do so, but it refuses to meet us on any reasonable grounds. Your Secretary of War has

said that the Government can get along very well without you, and General Halleck has said that you were

"You've already endured much more than it could expect of you; you served it faithfully during the term you

enlisted for, and now, when it is through with you, it throws you aside to starve and die. You also can have no

doubt that the Southern Confederacy is certain to succeed in securing its independence. It will do this in a few

months. It now offers you an opportunity to join its service, and if you serve it faithfully to the end, you will

receive the same rewards as the rest of its soldiers. You will be taken out of here, be well clothed and fed,

given a good bounty, and, at the conclusion of the War receive a land warrant for a nice farm. If you"

But we had heard enough. The Sergeant of our divisiona man with a stentorian voice sprang out and

Ten Sergeants repeated "Face!" one after the other, and each man in the hundreds turned on his heel. Then

"First Division, forward! MARCH!" and we strode back into the Stockade, followed immediately by all the

The Rebels were furious at this curt way of replying. We had scarcely reached our quarters when they came

in with several companies, with loaded guns and fixed bayonets. They drove us out of our tents and huts, into

one corner, under the pretense of hunting axes and spades, but in reality to steal our blankets, and whatever

else they could find that they wanted, and to break down and injure our huts, many of which, costing us days

We were burning with the bitterest indignation. A tall, slender man named Lloyd, a member of the

SixtyFirst Ohioa rough, uneducated fellow, but brim full of patriotism and manly common sense, jumped

up on a stump and poured out his soul in rude but fiery eloquence: "Comrades," he said, "do not let the

blowing of these Rebel whelps discourage you; pay no attention to the lies they have told you today; you

know well that our Government is too honorable and just to desert any one who serves it; it has not deserted

us; their hellborn Confederacy is not going to succeed. I tell you that as sure as there is a God who reigns

and judges in Israel, before the Spring breezes stir the tops of these blasted old pines their Confederacy and

all the lousy graybacks who support it will be so deep in hell that nothing but a search warrant from the

throne of God Almighty can ever find it again. And the glorious old Stars and Stripes"

Here we began cheering tremendously. A Rebel Captain came running up, said to the guard, who was leaning

?" and snatching the gun away from him, cocked and leveled it at Lloyd, but the boys near jerked the

We became fearfully, wrought up. Some of the more excitable shouted out to charge on the line of guards,

snatch they guns away from them, and force our way through the gate The shouts were taken up by others,

and, as if in obedience to the suggestion, we instinctively formed in lineof battle facing the guards. A

glance down the line showed me an array of desperate, tensely drawn faces, such as one sees who looks a

men when they are summoning up all their resolution for some deed of great peril. The Rebel officers hastily

retreated behind the line of guards, whose faces blanched, but they leveled the muskets and prepared to

Captain Bowes, who was overlooking the prison from an elevation outside, had, however, divined the trouble

at the outset, an was preparing to meet it. The gunners, who had shotted the pieces and trained them upon us

when we came out to listen t the speech, had again covered us with them, and were ready to sweep the prison

with grape and canister at the instant of command. The long roll was summoning the infantry regiments back

into line, and some of the coolerheaded among us pointed these facts out and succeeded in getting the line to

dissolve again into groups of muttering, sullenfaced men. When this was done, the guards marched out, by a

It was believed that we had some among us who would like to avail themselves of the offer of the Rebels, and

that they would try to inform the Rebels of their desires by going to the gate during the night and speaking to

the OfficeroftheGuard. A squad armed themselves with clubs and laid in wait for these. They succeeded

in catching several snatching some of then back even after they had told the guard their wishes in a tones(

loud that all near could hear distinctly. The OfficeroftheGuard rushed in two or three times in a vain

attempt to save the would be deserter from the cruel hands that clutched him and bore him away to where he

had a lesson in loyalty impressed upon the fleshiest part of his person by a long, flexible strip of pine wielded

After this was kept up for several nights different ideas began I to prevail. It was felt that if a man wanted to

join the Rebels, the best way was to let him go and get rid of him. He was of no benefit to the Government,

and would be of none to the Rebels. After this no restriction was put upon any one who desired to go outside

and take the oath. But very few did so, however, and these were wholly confined to the Raider crowd.

Leroy L. Key, the heroic Sergeant of Company M, Sixteenth Illinois Cavalry, who organized and led the

Regulators at Andersonville in their successful conflict with and defeat of the Raiders, and who presided at

the execution of the six condemned men on the 11th of July, furnishes, at the request of the author, the

On the 12th day of July, 1864, the day after the hanging of the six Raiders, by the urgent request of my many

friends (of whom you were one), I sought and obtained from Wirz a parole for myself and the six brave men

who assisted as executioners of those desperados. It seemed that you were all fearful that we might, after

what had been done, be assassinated if we remained in the Stockade; and that we might be overpowered,

perhaps, by the friends of the Raiders we had hanged, at a time possibly, when you would not be on hand to

give us assistance, and thus lose our lives for rendering the help we did in getting rid of the worst pestilence

On obtaining my parole I was very careful to have it so arranged and mutually understood, between Wirz and

myself, that at any time that my squad (meaning the survivors of my comrades, with whom I was originally

captured) was sent away from Andersonville, either to be exchanged or to go to another prison, that I should

be allowed to go with them. This was agreed to, and so written in my parole which I carried until it absolutely

wore out. I took a position in the cookhouse, and the other boys either went to work there, or at the hospital

or graveyard as occasion required. I worked here, and did the best I could for the many starving wretches

inside, in the way of preparing their food, until the eighth day of September, at which time, if you remember,

quite a train load of men were removed, as many of us thought, for the purpose of exchange; but, as we

afterwards discovered, to be taken to another prison. Among the crowd so removed was my squad, or, at

least, a portion of them, being my intimate messmates while in the Stockade. As soon as I found this to be

the case I waited on Wirz at his office, and asked permission to go with them, which he refused, stating that

he was compelled to have men at the cookhouse to cook for those in the Stockade until they were all gone or

exchanged. I reminded him of the condition in my parole, but this only had the effect of making him mad,

and he threatened me with the stocks if I did not go back and resume work. I then and there made up my

mind to attempt my escape, considering that the parole had first been broken by the man that granted it.

On inquiry after my return to the cookhouse, I found four other boys who were also planning an escape, and

who were only too glad to get me to join them and take charge of the affair. Our plans were well laid and well

executed, as the sequel will prove, and in this particular my own experience in the endeavor to escape from

Andersonville is not entirely dissimilar from yours, though it had different results. I very much regret that in

the attempt I lost my penciled memorandum, in which it was my habit to chronicle what went on around me

daily, and where I had the names of my brave comrades who made the effort to escape with me.

Unfortunately, I cannot now recall to memory the name of one of them or remember to what commands they

I knew that our greatest risk was run in eluding the guards, and that in the morning we should be compelled

to cheat the bloodhounds. The first we managed to do very well, not without many hairbreadth escapes,

however; but we did succeed in getting through both lines of guards, and found ourselves in the densest pine

forest I ever saw. We traveled, as nearly as we could judge, due north all night until daylight. From our

fatigue and bruises, and the long hours that had elapsed since 8 o'clock, the time of our starting, we thought

we had come not less than twelve or fifteen miles. Imagine our surprise and mortification, then, when we

could plainly hear the reveille, and almost the Sergeant's voice calling the roll, while the answers of "Here!"

were perfectly distinct. We could not possibly have been more than a mile, or a mileandahalf at the

Our anxiety and mortification were doubled when at the usual houras we supposedwe heard the

wellknown and longfamiliar sound of the hunter's horn, calling his hounds to their accustomed task of

making the circuit of the Stockade, for the purpose of ascertaining whether or not any � "Yankee" had had

the audacity to attempt an escape. The hounds, anticipating, no doubt, this usual daily work, gave forth glad

barks of joy at being thus called forth to duty. We heard them start, as was usual, from about the railroad

depot (as we imagined), but the sounds growing fainter and fainter gave us a little hope that our trail had been

missed. Only a short time, however, were we allowed this pleasant reflection, for ere longit could not have

been more than an hourwe could plainly see that they were drawing nearer and nearer. They finally

appeared so close that I advised the boys to climb a tree or sapling in order to keep the dogs from biting them,

and to be ready to surrender when the hunters came up, hoping thus to experience as little misery as possible,

and not dreaming but that we were caught. On, on came the hounds, nearer and nearer still, till we imagined

that we could see the undergrowth in the forest shaking by coming in contact with their bodies. Plainer and

plainer came the sound of the hunter's voice urging them forward. Our hearts were in our throats, and in the

terrible excitement we wondered if it could be possible for Providence to so arrange it that the dogs would

pass us. This last thought, by some strange fancy, had taken possession of me, and I here frankly

acknowledge that I believed it would happen. Why I believed it, God only knows. My excitement was so

great, indeed, that I almost lost sight of our danger, and felt like shouting to the dogs myself, while I came

near losing my hold on the tree in which I was hidden. By chance I happened to look around at my nearest

neighbor in distress. His expression was sufficient to quell any enthusiasm I might have had, and I, too,

became despondent. In a very few minutes our suspense was over. The dogs came within not less than three

hundred yards of us, and we could even see one of them, God in Heaven can only imagine what great joy was

then, brought to our aching hearts, for almost instantly upon coming into sight, the hounds struck off on a

different trail, and passed us. Their voices became fainter and fainter, until finally we could hear them no

longer. About noon, however, they were called back and taken to camp, but until that time not one of us left

When we were satisfied that we were safe for the present, we descended to the ground to get what rest we

could, in order to be prepared for the night's march, having previously agreed to travel at night and sleep in

the day time. "Our Father, who art in Heaven," etc., were the first words that escaped my lips, and the first

thoughts that came to my mind as I landed on terra firma. Never before, or since, had I experienced such a

profound reverence for Almighty God, for I firmly believe that only through some mighty invisible power

were we at that time delivered from untold tortures. Had we been found, we might have been torn and

mutilated by the dogs, or, taken back to Andersonville, have suffered for days or perhaps weeks in the stocks

or chain gang, as the humor of Wirz might have dictated at the timeeither of which would have been

It was very fortunate for us that before our escape from Andersonville we were detailed at the cookhouse,

for by this means we were enabled to bring away enough food to live for several days without the necessity

of theft. Each one of us had our haversacks full of such small delicacies as it was possible for us to get when

we started, these consisting of corn bread and fat baconnothing less, nothing more. Yet we managed to

subsist comfortably until our fourth day out, when we happened to come upon a sweet potato patch, the

potatos in which had not been dug. In a very short space of time we were all well supplied with this article,

Just at evening, in going through a field, we suddenly came across three negro men, who at first sight of us

showed signs of running, thinking, as they told us afterward, that we were the "patrols." After explaining to

them who we were and our condition, they took us to a very quiet retreat in the woods, and two of them went

off, stating that they would soon be back. In a very short time they returned laden with well cooked

provisions, which not only gave us a good supper, but supplied us for the next day with all that we wanted.

They then guided us on our way for several miles, and left us, after having refused compensation for what

We continued to travel in this way for nine long weary nights, and on the morning of the tenth day, as we

were going into the woods to hide as usual, a little before daylight, we came to a small pond at which there

was a negro boy watering two mules before hitching them to a cane mill, it then being cane grinding time in

Georgia. He saw us at the same time we did him, and being frightened put whip to the animals and ran off.

We tried every way to stop him, but it was no use. He had the start of us. We were very fearful of the

consequences of this mishap, but had no remedy, and being very tired, could do nothing else but go into the

The next thing I remembered was being punched in the ribs by my comrade nearest to me, and aroused with

the remark, "We are gone up." On opening my eyes, I saw four men, in citizens' dress, each of whom had a

shot gun ready for use. We were ordered to get up. The first question asked us was:

This was spoken in so mild a tone as to lead me to believe that we might possibly be in the hands of

gentlemen, if not indeed in those of friends. It was some time before any one answered. The boys, by their

looks and the expression of their countenances, seemed to appeal to me for a reply to get them out of their

present dilemma, if possible. Before I had time to collect my thoughts, we were startled by these words,

"You had better not hesitate, for we have an idea who you are, and should it prove that we are correct, it will

I jumped at the conclusion instantly that in order to save our lives, we had better at once own the truth. In a

very few words I told them who we were, where we were from, how long we had been on the road, etc. At

this they withdrew a short distance from us for consultation, leaving us for the time in terrible suspense as to

what our fate might be. Soon, how ever, they returned and informed us that they would be compelled to take

us to the County Jail, to await further orders from the Military Commander of the District. While they were

talking together, I took a hasty inventory of what valuables we had on hand. I found in the crowd four silver

watches, about three hundred dollars in Confederate money, and possibly, about one hundred dollars in

greenbacks. Before their return, I told the boys to be sure not to refuse any request I should make. Said I:

"'Gentlemen, we have here four silver watches and several hundred dollars in Confederate money and

greenbacks, all of which we now offer you, if you will but allow us to proceed on our journey, we taking our

This proposition, to my great surprise, was refused. I thought then that possibly I had been a little indiscreet

in exposing our valuables, but in this I was mistaken, for we had, indeed, fallen into the hands of gentlemen,

whose zeal for the Lost Cause was greater than that for obtaining worldly wealth, and who not only refused

the bribe, but took us to a wellfurnished and wellsupplied farm house close by, gave us an excellent

breakfast, allowing us to sit at the table in a beautiful diningroom, with a lady at the head, filled our

haversacks with good, wholesome food, and allowed us to keep our property, with an admonition to be

careful how we showed it again. We were then put into a wagon and taken to Hamilton, a small town, the

county seat of Hamilton County, Georgia, and placed in jail, where we remained for two days and nights

fearing, always, that the jail would be burned over our heads, as we heard frequent threats of that nature, by

the mob on the streets. But the same kind Providence that had heretofore watched over us, seemed not to have

One of the days we were confined at this place was Sunday, and some kind hearted lady or ladies (I only

wish I knew their names, as well as those of the gentlemen who had us first in charge, so that I could

chronicle them with honor here) taking compassion upon our forlorn condition, sent us a splendid dinner on a

very large china platter. Whether it was done intentionally or not, we never learned, but it was a fact,

however, that there was not a knife, fork or spoon upon the dish, and no table to set it upon. It was placed on

the floor, around which we soon gathered, and, with grateful hearts, we "got away" with it all, in an

incredibly short space of time, while many men and boys looked on, enjoying our ludicrous attitudes and

From here we were taken to Columbus, Ga., and again placed in jail, and in the charge of Confederate

soldiers. We could easily see that we were gradually getting into hot water again, and that, ere many days, we

would have to resume our old habits in prison. Our only hope now was that we would not be returned to

Andersonville, knowing well that if we got back into the clutches of Wirz our chances for life would be slim

indeed. From Columbus we were sent by rail to Macon, where we were placed in a prison somewhat similar

to Andersonville, but of nothing like its pretensions to security. I soon learned that it was only used as a kind

of reception place for the prisoners who were captured in small squads, and when they numbered two or three

hundred, they would be shipped to Andersonville, or some other place of greater dimensions and strength.

What became of the other boys who were with me, after we got to Macon, I do not know, for I lost sight of

them there. The very next day after our arrival, there were shipped to Andersonville from this prison between

two and three hundred men. I was called on to go with the crowd, but having had a sufficient experience of

the hospitality of that hotel, I concluded to play "old soldier," so I became too sick to travel. In this way I

Meanwhile, quite a large number of commissioned officers had been sent up from Charleston to be

exchanged at Rough and Ready. With them were about forty more than the cartel called for, and they were

left at Macon for ten days or two weeks. Among these officers were several of my acquaintance, one being

Lieut. Huntly of our regiment (I am not quite sure that I am right in the name of this officer, but I think I am),

through whose influence I was allowed to go outside with them on parole. It was while enjoying this parole

that I got more familiarly acquainted with Captain Hurtell, or Hurtrell, who was in command of the prison at

Macon, and to his honor, I here assert, that he was the only gentleman and the only officer that had the least

humane feeling in his breast, who ever had charge of me while a prisoner of war after we were taken out of

It now became very evident that the Rebels were moving the prisoners from Andersonville and elsewhere, so

as to place them beyond the reach of Sherman and Stoneman. At my present place of confinement the fear of

our recapture had also taken possession of the Rebel authorities, so the prisoners were sent off in much

smaller squads than formerly, frequently not more than ten or fifteen in a gang, whereas, before, they never

thought of dispatching less than two or three hundred together. I acknowledge that I began to get very uneasy,

fearful that the "old soldier" dodge would not be much longer successful, and I would be forced back to my

old haunts. It so happened, however, that I managed to make it serve me, by getting detailed in the prison

hospital as nurse, so that I was enabled to play another "dodge" upon the Rebel officers. At first, when the

Sergeant would come around to find out who were able to walk, with assistance, to the depot, I was shaking

with a chill, which, according to my representation, had not abated in the least for several hours. My teeth

were actually chattering at the time, for I had learned how to make them do so. I was passed. The next day the

orders for removal were more stringent than had yet been issued, stating that all who could stand it to be

removed on stretchers must go. I concluded at once that I was gone, so as soon as I learned how matters were,

I got out from under my dirty blanket, stood up and found I was able to walk, to my great astonishment, of

course. An officer came early in the morning to muster us into ranks preparatory for removal. I fell in with

Now, it so happened that just as we neared the gate of the prison, the prisoners were being marched from the

Stockade. The officer in charge of uswe numbering possibly about tenundertook to place us at the head

of the column coming out, but the guard in charge of that squad refused to let him do so. We were then

ordered to stand at one side with no guard over us but the officer who had brought us from the Hospital.

Taking this in at a glance, I concluded that now was my chance to make my second attempt to escape. I

stepped behind the gate office (a small frame building with only one room), which was not more than six feet

from me, and as luck (or Providence) would have it, the negro man whose duty it was, as I knew, to wait on

and take care of this office, and who had taken quite a liking for me, was standing at the back door. I winked

at him and threw him my blanket and the cup, at the same time telling him in a whisper to hide them away for

me until he heard from me again. With a grin and a nod, he accepted the trust, and I started down along the

walls of the Stockade alone. In order to make this more plain, and to show what a risk I was running at the

time, I will state that between the Stockade and a brick wall, fully as high as the Stockade fence that was

parallel with it, throughout its entire length on that side, there was a space of not more than thirty feet. On the

outside of this Stockade was a platform, built for the guards to walk on, sufficiently clear the top to allow

them to look inside with ease, and on this side, on the platform, were three guards. I had traveled about fifty

feet only, from the gate office, when I heard the command to "Halt!" I did so, of course.

"Going after my clothes, that are over there in the wash," pointing to a small cabin just beyond the Stockade,

"Oh, yes," said he; "you are one of the Yank's that's been on, parole, are you?"

The other guards heard this conversation and thinking it all right I was allowed to pass without further

trouble. I went to the cabin in questionfor I saw the last guard on the line watching me, and boldly entered.

I made a clear statement to the woman in charge of it about how I had made my escape, and asked her to

secrete me in the house until night. I was soon convinced, however, from what she told me, as well as from

my own knowledge of how things were managed in the Confederacy, that it would not be right for me to stay

there, for if the house was searched and I found in it, it would be the worse for her. Therefore, not wishing to

entail misery upon another, I begged her to give me something to eat, and going to the swamp near by,

I lay there all day, and during the time had a very severe chill and afterwards a burning fever, so that when

night came, knowing I could not travel, I resolved to return to the cabin and spend the night, and give myself

up the next morning. There was no trouble in returning. I learned that my fears of the morning had not been

groundless, for the guards had actually searched the house for me. The woman told them that I had got my

clothes and left the house shortly after my entrance (which was the truth except the part about the clothes I

thanked her very kindly and begged to be allowed to stay in the cabin till morning, when I would present

myself at Captain H.'s office and suffer the consequences. This she allowed me to do. I shall ever feel grateful

to this woman for her protection. She was white and her given name was "Sallie," but the other I have

About daylight I strolled over near the office and looked around there until I saw the Captain take his seat at

his desk. I stepped into the door as soon as I saw that he was not occupied and saluted him "a la militaire."

"Yes, sir," said I, "I am called by that name since I was captured in the Federal Army."

"Why didn't you answer to your name when it was called at the gate yesterday, sir?"

"I am not trying to evade, sir, or I might not have been here now. The truth is, Captain, I have been in many

prisons since my capture, and have been treated very badly in all of them, until I came here."

"I then explained to him freely my escape from Andersonville, and my subsequent recapture, how it was

"Now," said I, "Captain, as long as I am a prisoner of war, I wish to stay with you, or under your command.

This is my reason for running away yesterday, when I felt confident that if I did not do so I would be returned

under Wirz's command, and, if I had been so returned, I would have killed myself rather than submit to the

untold tortures which he would have put me to, for having the audacity to attempt an escape from him."

The Captain's attention was here called to some other matters in hand, and I was sent back into the Stockade

with a command very pleasantly given, that I should stay there until ordered out, which I very gratefully

promised to do, and did. This was the last chance I ever had to talk to Captain Hurtrell, to my great sorrow,

for I had really formed a liking for the man, notwithstanding the fact that he was a Rebel, and a commander

The next day we all had to leave Macon. Whether we were able or not, the order was imperative. Great was

my joy when I learned that we were on the way to Savannah and not to Andersonville. We traveled over the

same road, so well described in one of your articles on Andersonville, and arrived in Savannah sometime in

the afternoon of the 21st day of November, 1864. Our squad was placed in some barracks and confined there

until the next day. I was sick at the time, so sick in fact, that I could hardly hold my head up. Soon after, we

were taken to the Florida depot, as they told us, to be shipped to some prison in those dismal swamps. I came

near fainting when this was told to us, for I was confident that I could not survive another siege of prison life,

if it was anything to compare towhat I had already suffered. When we arrived at the depot, it was raining.

The officer in charge of us wanted to know what train to put us on, for there were two, if not three, trains

waiting orders to start. He was told to march us on to a certain flat car, near by, but before giving the order he

demanded a receipt for us, which the train officer refused. We were accordingly taken back to our quarters,

On the 23d day of November, to our great relief, we were called upon to sign a parole preparatory to being

sent down the river on the flatboat to our exchange ships, then lying in the harbor. When I say we, I mean

those of us that had recently come from Macon, and a few others, who had also been fortunate in reaching

Savannah in small squads. The other poor fellows, who had already been loaded on the trains, were taken

away to Florida, and many of them never lived to return. On the 24th those of us who had been paroled were

taken on board our ships, and were once more safely housed under that great, glorious and beautiful Star

As November wore away longcontinued, chill, searching rains desolated our days and nights. . The great,

cold drops pelted down slowly, dismally, and incessantly. Each seemed to beat through our emaciated frames

against the very marrow of our bones, and to be battering its way remorselessly into the citadel of life, like

the cruel drops that fell from the basin of the inquisitors upon the firmlyfastened head of their victim, until

The lagging, leaden hours were inexpressibly dreary. Compared with many others, we were quite

comfortable, as our hut protected us from the actual beating of the rain upon our bodies; but we were much

more miserable than under the sweltering heat of Andersonville, as we lay almost naked upon our bed of pine

leaves, shivering in the raw, rasping air, and looked out over acres of wretches lying dumbly on the sodden

sand, receiving the benumbing drench of the sullen skies without a groan or a motion.

It was enough to kill healthy, vigorous men, active and resolute, with bodies wellnourished and well

clothed, and with minds vivacious and hopeful, to stand these dayandnightlong solid drenchings. No one

can imagine how fatal it was to boys whose vitality was sapped by long months in Andersonville, by coarse,

meager, changeless food, by groveling on the bare earth, and by hopelessness as to any improvement of

Fever, rheumatism, throat and lung diseases and despair now came to complete the work begun by scurvy,

Hundreds, weary of the long struggle, and of hoping against hope, laid themselves down and yielded to their

fate. In the six weeks that we were at Millen, one man in every ten died. The ghostly pines there sigh over the

unnoted graves of seven hundred boys, for whom life's morning closed in the gloomiest shadows. As many as

would form a splendid regimentas many as constitute the first born of a populous Citymore than three

times as many as were slain outright on our side in the bloody battle of Franklin, succumbed to this new

hardship. The country for which they died does not even have a record of their names. They were simply

About the middle of the month the Rebels yielded to the importunities of our Government so far as to agree

to exchange ten thousand sick. The Rebel Surgeons took praiseworthy care that our Government should profit

as little as possible by this, by sending every hopeless case, every man whose lease of life was not likely to

extend much beyond his reaching the parole boat. If he once reached our receiving officers it was all that was

necessary; he counted to them as much as if he had been a Goliath. A very large portion of those sent through

died on the way to our lines, or within a few hours after their transports at being once more under the old

The sending of the sick through gave our commandantCaptain Bowesa fine opportunity to fill his

pockets, by conniving at the passage of well men. There was still considerable money in the hands of a few

prisoners. All this, and more, too, were they willing to give for their lives. In the first batch that went away

were two of the leading sutlers at Andersonville, who had accumulated perhaps one thousand dollars each by

their shrewd and successful bartering. It was generally believed that they gave every cent to Bowes for the

privilege of leaving. I know nothing of the truth of this, but I am reasonably certain that they paid him very

Soon we heard that one hundred and fifty dollars each had been sufficient to buy some men out; then one

hundred, seventyfive, fifty, thirty, twenty, ten, and at last five dollars. Whether the upright Bowes drew the

line at the latter figure, and refused to sell his honor for less than the ruling rates of a streetwalker's virtue, I

know not. It was the lowest quotation that came to my knowledge, but he may have gone cheaper. I have

always observed that when men or women begin to traffic in themselves, their price falls as rapidly as that of

a piece of tainted meat in hot weather. If one could buy them at the rate they wind up with, and sell them at

The cheapest I ever knew a Rebel officer to be bought was some weeks after this at Florence. The sick

exchange was still going on. I have before spoken of the Rebel passion for bright gilt buttons. It used to be a

proverbial comment upon the small treasons that were of daily occurrence on both sides, that you could buy

the soul of a mean man in our crowd for a pint of corn meal, and the soul of a Rebel guard for a half dozen

brass buttons. A boy of the Fifthfourth Ohio, whose home was at or near Lima, O., wore a blue vest, with

the gilt, brighttrimmed buttons of a staff officer. The Rebel Surgeon who was examining the sick for

exchange saw the buttons and admired them very much. The boy stepped back, borrowed a knife from a

"All right, sir," said he as his itching palm closed over the coveted ornaments; "you can pass," and pass he did

Captain Bowes's merchandizing in the matter of exchange was as open as the issuing of rations. His agent in

conducting the bargaining was a Raidera New York gambler and stoolpigeonwhom we called

"Mattie." He dealt quite fairly, for several times when the exchange was interrupted, Bowes sent the money

back to those who had paid him, and received it again when the exchange was renewed.

Had it been possible to buy our way out for five cents each Andrews and I would have had to stay back, since

we had not had that much money for months, and all our friends were in an equally bad plight. Like almost

everybody else we had spent the few dollars we happened to have on entering prison, in a week or so, and

There was no hope left for us but to try to pass the Surgeons as desperately sick, and we expended our

energies in simulating this condition. Rheumatism was our forte, and I flatter myself we got up two cases that

were apparently bad enough to serve as illustrations for a patent medicine advertisement. But it would not do.

Bad as we made our condition appear, there were so many more who were infinitely worse, that we stood no

show in the competitive examination. I doubt if we would have been given an average of "50" in a report. We

had to stand back, and see about one quarter of our number march out and away home. We could not

complain at thismuch as we wanted to go ourselves, since there could be no question that these poor

fellows deserved the precedence. We did grumble savagely, however, at Captain Bowes's venality, in selling

out chances to moneyed men, since these were invariably those who were best prepared to withstand the

hardships of imprisonment, as they were mostly new men, and all had good clothes and blankets. We did not

blame the men, however, since it was not in human nature to resist an opportunity to get awayat any

costfrom that accursed place. "All that a man hath he will give for his life," and I think that if I had owned

the City of New York in fee simple, I would have given it away willingly, rather than stand in prison another

The sutlers, to whom I have alluded above, had accumulated sufficient to supply themselves with all the

necessaries and some of the comforts of life, during any probable term of imprisonment, and still have a snug

amount left, but they, would rather give it all up and return to service with their regiments in the field, than

I can only surmise how much Bowes realized out of the prisoners by his venality, but I feel sure that it could

not have been less than three thousand dollars, and I would not be astonished to learn that it was ten thousand

One night, toward the last of November, there was a general alarm around the prison. A gun was fired from

the Fort, the longroll was beaten in the various camps of the guards, and the regiments answered by getting

The reason for this, which we did not learn until weeks later, was that Sherman, who had cut loose from

Atlanta and started on his famous March to the Sea, had taken such a course as rendered it probable that

Millen was one of his objective points. It was, therefore, necessary that we should be hurried away with all

possible speed. As we had had no news from Sherman since the end of the Atlanta campaign, and were

ignorant of his having begun his great raid, we were at an utter loss to account for the commotion among our

About 3 o'clock in the morning the Rebel Sergeants, who called the roll, came in and ordered us to turn out

The morning was one of the most cheerless I ever knew. A cold rain poured relentlessly down upon us

halfnaked, shivering wretches, as we groped around in the darkness for our pitiful little belongings of rags

and cooking utensils, and huddled together in groups, urged on continually by the curses and abuse of the

Though roused at 3 o'clock, the cars were not ready to receive us till nearly noon. In the meantime we stood

in ranksnumb, trembling, and heartsick. The guards around us crouched over fires, and shielded

themselves as best they could with blankets and bits of tent cloth. We had nothing to build fires with, and

Around us everywhere was the dull, cold, gray, hopeless desolation of the approach of minter. The hard, wiry

grass that thinly covered the once and sand, the occasional stunted weeds, and the sparse foliage of the

gnarled and dwarfish undergrowth, all were parched brown and sere by the fiery heat of the long Summer,

and now rattled drearily under the pitiless, cold rain, streaming from lowering clouds that seemed to have

floated down to us from the cheerless summit of some great iceberg; the tall, naked pines moaned and

shivered; dead, sapless leaves fell wearily to the sodden earth, like withered hopes drifting down to deepen

Scores of our crowd found this the culmination of their misery. They laid down upon the ground and yielded

to death as s welcome relief, and we left them lying there unburied when we moved to the cars.

As we passed through the Rebel camp at dawn, on our way to the cars, Andrews and I noticed a nest of four

large, bright, new tin pansa rare thing in the Confederacy at that time. We managed to snatch them without

the guard's attention being attracted, and in an instant had them wrapped up in our blanket. But the blanket

was full of holes, and in spite of all our efforts, it would slip at the most inconvenient times, so as to show a

broad glare of the bright metal, just when it seemed it could not help attracting the attention of the guards or

their officers. A dozen times at least we were on the imminent brink of detection, but we finally got our

The cars were open flats. The rain still beat down unrelentingly. Andrews and I huddled ourselves together so

as to make our bodies afford as much heat as possible, pulled our faithful old overcoat around us as far as it

Our train headed back to Savannah, and again our hearts warmed up with hopes of exchange. It seemed as if

there could be no other purpose of taking us out of a prison so recently established and at such cost as Millen.

As we approached the coast the rain ceased, but a piercing cold wind set in, that threatened to convert our

Very many died on the way. When we arrived at Savannah almost, if not quite, every car had upon it one

whom hunger no longer gnawed or disease wasted; whom cold had pinched for the last time, and for whom

the golden portals of the Beyond had opened for an exchange that neither Davis nor his despicable tool,

We did not sentimentalize over these. We could not mourn; the thousands that we had seen pass away made

that emotion hackneyed and wearisome; with the death of some friend and comrade as regularly an event of

each day as roll call and drawing rations, the sentiment of grief had become nearly obsolete. We were not

hardened; we had simply come to look upon death as commonplace and ordinary. To have had no one dead

Besides, why should we feel any regret at the passing away of those whose condition would probably be

bettered thereby! It was difficult to see where we who still lived were any better off than they who were gone

before and now "forever at peace, each in his windowless palace of rest." If imprisonment was to continue

Arriving at Savannah, we were ordered off the cars. A squad from each car carried the dead to a designated

spot, and land them in a row, composing their limbs as well as possible, but giving no other funeral rites, not

even making a record of their names and regiments. Negro laborers came along afterwards, with carts, took

We were given a few crackers eachthe same rude imitation of "hard tack" that had been served out to us

when we arrived at Savannah the first time, and then were marched over and put upon a train on the Atlantic

Gulf Railroad, running from Savannah along the sea coast towards Florida. What this meant we had little

conception, but hope, which sprang eternal in the prisoner's breast, whispered that perhaps it was exchange;

that there was some difficulty about our vessels coming to Savannah, and we were being taken to some other

more convenient sea port; probably to Florida, to deliver us to our folks there. We satisfied ourselves that we

were running along the sea coast by tasting the water in the streams we crossed, whenever we could get an

opportunity to dip up some. As long as the water tasted salty we knew we were near the sea, and hope burned

The truth wasas we afterwards learnedthe Rebels were terribly puzzled what to do with us. We were

brought to Savannah, but that did not solve the problem; and we were sent down the Atlantic Gulf road as a

The railroad was the worst of the many bad ones which it was my fortune to ride upon in my excursions

while a guest of the Southern Confederacy. It had run down until it had nearly reached the wornout

condition of that Western road, of which an employee of a rival route once said, "that all there was left of it

now was two streaks of rust and the right of way." As it was one of the nonessential roads to the Southern

Confederacy, it was stripped of the best of its rollingstock and machinery to supply the other more

I have before mentioned the scarcity of grease in the South, and the difficulty of supplying the railroads with

lubricants. Apparently there had been no oil on the Atlantic Gulf since the beginning of the war, and the

screeches of the dry axles revolving in the wornout boxes were agonizing. Some thing would break on the

cars or blow out on the engine every few miles, necessitating a long stop for repairs. Then there was no

supply of fuel along the line. When the engine ran out of wood it would halt, and a couple of negros riding on

the tender would assail a panel of fence or a fallen tree with their axes, and after an hour or such matter of

hard chopping, would pile sufficient wood upon the tender to enable us to renew our journey.

Frequently the engine stopped as if from sheer fatigue or inanition. The Rebel officers tried to get us to assist

it up the grade by dismounting and pushing behind. We respectfully, but firmly, declined. We were

gentlemen of leisure, we said, and decidedly averse to manual labor; we had been invited on this excursion by

Mr. Jeff. Davis and his friends, who set themselves up as our entertainers, and it would be a gross breach of

hospitality to reflect upon our hosts by working our passage. If this was insisted upon, we should certainly

not visit them again. Besides, it made no difference to us whether the train got along or not. We were not

losing anything by the delay; we were not anxious to go anywhere. One part of the Southern Confederacy

was just as good as another to us. So not a finger could they persuade any of us to raise to help along the

The country we were traversing was sterile and poorworse even than that in the neighborhood of

Andersonville. Farms and farmhouses were scarce, and of towns there were none. Not even a collection of

houses big enough to justify a blacksmith shop or a store appeared along the whole route. But few fields of

any kind were seen, and nowhere was there a farm which gave evidence of a determined effort on the part of

When the train stopped for wood, or for repairs, or from exhaustion, we were allowed to descend from the

cars and stretch our numbed limbs. It did us good in other ways, too. It seemed almost happiness to be

outside of those cursed Stockades, to rest our eyes by looking away through the woods, and seeing birds and

animals that were free. They must be happy, because to us to be free once more was the summit of earthly

There was a chance, too, to pick up something green to eat, and we were famishing for this. The scurvy still

lingered in our systems, and we were hungry for an antidote. A plant grew rather plentifully along the track

that looked very much as I imagine a palm leaf fan does in its green state. The leaf was not so large as an

ordinary palm leaf fan, and came directly out of the ground. The natives called it "bullgrass," but anything

more unlike grass I never saw, so we rejected that nomenclature, and dubbed them "green fans." They were

very hard to pull up, it being usually as much as the strongest of us could do to draw them out of the ground.

When pulled up there was found the smallest bit of a stocknot as much as a joint of one's little fingerthat

was eatable. It had no particular taste, and probably little nutriment, still it was fresh and green, and we

strained our weak muscles and enfeebled sinews at every opportunity, endeavoring to pull up a "green fan."

At one place where we stopped there was a makeshift of a garden, one of those sorry "truck patches," which

do poor duty about Southern cabins for the kitchen gardens of the Northern, farmers, and produce a few

coarse cow peas, a scanty lot of collards (a coarse kind of cabbage, with a stalk about a yard long) and some

onions to vary the usual sidemeat and corn pone, diet of the Georgia "cracker." Scanning the patch's ruins of

vine arid stalk, Andrews espied a handful of onions, which had; remained ungathered. They tempted him as

the apple did Eve. Without stopping to communicate his intention to me, he sprang from the car, snatched the

onions from their bed, pulled up, half a dozen collard stalks and was on his way back before the guard could

make up his mind to fire upon him. The swiftness of his motions saved his life, for had he been more

deliberate the guard would have concluded he was trying to, escape, and shot him down. As it was he was

returning back before the guard could get his gun up. The onions he had, secured were to us more delicious

than wine upon the lees. They seemed to find their way into every fiber of our bodies, and invigorate every

organ. The collard stalks he had snatched up, in the expectation of finding in them something resembling the

nutritious "heart" that we remembered as children, seeking and, finding in the stalks of cabbage. But we were

disappointed. The stalks were as dry and rotten as the bones of Southern, society. Even hunger could find no

After some days of this leisurely journeying toward the South, we halted permanently about eightysix miles

from Savannah. There was no reason why we should stop there more than any place else where we had been

or were likely to go. It seemed as if the Rebels had simply tired of hauling us, and dumped us, off. We had

another lot of dead, accumulated since we left Savannah, and the scenes at that place were repeated.

We were informed that the place we were at was Blackshear, and that it was the Court House, i. e., the

County seat of Pierce County. Where they kept the Court House, or County seat, is beyond conjecture to me,

since I could not see a half dozen houses in the whole clearing, and not one of them was a respectable

dwelling, taking even so low a standard for respectable dwellings as that afforded by the majority of Georgia

Pierce County, as I have since learned by the census report, is one of the poorest Counties of a poor section of

a very poor State. A population of less than two thousand is thinly scattered over its five hundred square

miles of territory, and gain a meager subsistence by a weak simulation of cultivating patches of its sandy

dunes and plains in "nubbin" corn and dropsical sweet potatos. A few "razorback" hogs a species so

gaunt and thin that I heard a man once declare that he had stopped a lot belonging to a neighbor from

crawling through the cracks of a tight board fence by simply tying a knot in their tailsroam the woods, and

Andrews used to insist that some of the hogs which we saw were so thin that the connection between their

fore and hindquarters was only a single thickness of skin, with hair on both sidesbut then Andrews

The swine certainly did have proportions that strongly resembled those of the animals which children cut out

of cardboard. They were like the geometrical definition of a superficeall length and breadth, and no

I never ceased to marvel at the delicate adjustment of the development of animal life to the soil in these lean

sections of Georgia. The poor land would not maintain anything but lank, lazy men, with few wants, and

none but lank, lazy men, with few wants, sought a maintenance from it. I may have tangled up cause and

effect, in this proposition, but if so, the reader can disentangle them at his leisure.

I was not astonished to learn that it took five hundred square miles of Pierce County land to maintain two

thousand "crackers," even as poorly as they lived. I should want fully that much of it to support one fair

After leaving the cars we were marched off into the pine woods, by the side of a considerable stream, and

told that this was to be our camp. A heavy guard was placed around us, and a number of pieces of artillery

We started in to make ourselves comfortable, as at Millen, by building shanties. The prisoners we left behind

followed us, and we soon had our old crowd of five or six thousand, who had been our companions at

Savannah and Millers, again with us. The place looked very favorable for escape. We knew we were still near

the sea coastreally not more than forty miles awayand we felt that if we could once get there we should

About a week after our arrival we were startled by an order for the one thousand of us who had first arrived to

get ready to move out. In a few minutes we were taken outside the guard line, massed close together, and

informed in a few words by a Rebel officer that we were about to be taken back to Savannah for exchange.

The announcement took away our breath. For an instant the rush of emotion made us speechless, and when

utterance returned, the first use we made of it was to join in one simultaneous outburst of acclamation. Those

inside the guard line, understanding what our cheer meant, answered us with a loud shout of

congratulationthe first real, genuine, hearty cheering that had been done since receiving the announcement

As soon as the excitement had subsided somewhat, the Rebel proceeded to explain that we would all be

required to sign a parole. This set us to thinking. After our scornful rejection of the proposition to enlist in the

Rebel army, the Rebels had felt around among us considerably as to how we were disposed toward taking

what was called the "NonCombatant's Oath;" that is, the swearing not to take up arms against the Southern

Confederacy again during the war. To the most of us this seemed only a little less dishonorable than joining

the Rebel army. We held that our oaths to our own Government placed us at its disposal until it chose to

discharge us, and we could not make any engagements with its enemies that might come in contravention of

that duty. In short, it looked very much like desertion, and this we did not feel at liberty to consider.

There were still many among us, who, feeling certain that they could not survive imprisonment much longer,

were disposed to look favorably upon the NonCombatant's Oath, thinking that the circumstances of the case

would justify their apparent dereliction from duty. Whether it would or not I must leave to more skilled

casuists than myself to decide. It was a matter I believed every man must settle with his own conscience. The

opinion that I then held and expressed was, that if a boy, felt that he was hopelessly sick, and that he could

not live if he remained in prison, he was justified in taking the Oath. In the absence of our own Surgeons he

would have to decide for himself whether be was sick enough to be warranted in resorting to this means of

saving his life. If he was in as good health as the majority of us were, with a reasonable prospect of surviving

some weeks longer, there was no excuse for taking the Oath, for in that few weeks we might be exchanged,

be recaptured, or make our escape. I think this was the general opinion of the prisoners.

While the Rebel was talking about our signing the parole, there flashed upon all of us at the same moment, a

suspicion that this was a trap to delude us into signing the NonCombatant's Oath. Instantly there went up a

The Rebel was handed a blank parole by a companion, and he read over the printed condition at the top,

which was that those signing agreed not to bear arms against the Confederates in the field, or in garrison, not

to man any works, assist in any expedition, do any sort of guard duty, serve in any military constabulary, or

For a minute this was satisfactory; then their ingrained distrust of any thing a Rebel said or did returned, and

"Very well," said he, "get up on this stump and read this parole to these dd fools that won't believe me."

I mounted the stump, took the blank from his hand and read it over slowly, giving as much emphasis as

possible to the allimportant clause at the end"until properly exchanged." I then said:

I was never so proud of the American soldierboy as at that moment. They all felt that signing that paper was

to give them freedom and life. They knew too well from sad experience what the alternative was. Many felt

that unless released another week would see them in their graves. All knew that every day's stay in Rebel

hands greatly lessened their chances of life. Yet in all that thousand there was not one voice in favor of

yielding a tittle of honor to save life. They would secure their freedom honorably, or die faithfully.

Remember that this was a miscellaneous crowd of boys, gathered from all sections of the country, and from

many of whom no exalted conceptions of duty and honor were expected. I wish some one would point out to

me, on the brightest pages of knightly record, some deed of fealty and truth that equals the simple fidelity of

these unknown heros. I do not think that one of them felt that he was doing anything especially meritorious.

The business of signing the paroles was then begun in earnest. We were separated into squads according to

the first letters of our names, all those whose name began with A being placed in one squad, those beginning

with B, in another, and so on. Blank paroles for each letter were spread out on boxes and planks at different

places, and the signing went on under the superintendence of a Rebel Sergeant and one of the prisoners. The

squad of M's selected me to superintend the signing for us, and I stood by to direct the boys, and sign for the

very few who could not write. After this was done we fell into ranks again, called the roll of the signers, and

carefully compared the number of men with the number of signatures so that nobody should pass unparoled.

The oath was then administered to us, and two day's rations of corn meal and fresh beef were issued.

This formality removed the last lingering doubt that we had of the exchange being a reality, and we gave way

to the happiest emotions. We cheered ourselves hoarse, and the fellows still inside followed our example, as

Our next performance was to set to work, cook our two days' rations at once and eat them. This was not very

difficult, as the whole supply for two days would hardly make one square meal. That done, many of the boys

went to the guard line and threw their blankets, clothing, cooking utensils, etc., to their comrades who were

"Tomorrow, at this time, thank Heaven," said a boy near me, as he tossed his blanket and overcoat back to

some one inside, "we'll be in God's country, and then I wouldn't touch them dd lousy old rags with a ten

One of the boys in the M squad was a Maine infantryman, who had been with me in the Pemberton building,

in Richmond, and had fashioned himself a little square pan out of a tin plate of a tobacco press, such as I have

described in an earlier chapter. He had carried it with him ever since, and it was his sole vessel for all

purposesfor cooking, carrying water, drawing rations, etc. He had cherished it as if it were a farm or a

good situation. But now, as he turned away from signing his name to the parole, he looked at his faithful

servant for a minute in undisguised contempt; on the eve of restoration to happier, better things, it was a

reminder of all the petty, inglorious contemptible trials and sorrows he had endured; he actually loathed it for

its remembrances, and flinging it upon the ground he crushed it out of all shape and usefulness with his feet,

trampling upon it as he would everything connected with his prison life. Months afterward I had to lend this

Andrews and I flung the bright new tin pans we had stolen at Millen inside the line, to be scrambled for. It

was hard to tell who were the most surprised at their appearancethe Rebels or our own boysfor few had

any idea that there were such things in the whole Confederacy, and certainly none looked for them in the

possession of two such poverty stricken specimens as we were. We thought it best to retain possession of

As we marched down and boarded the train, the Rebels confirmed their previous action by taking all the

guards from around us. Only some eight or ten were sent to the train, and these quartered themselves in the

The train rolled away amid cheering by ourselves and those we left behind. One thousand happier boys than

we never started on a journey. We were going home. That was enough to wreathe the skies with glory, and

fill the world with sweetness and light. The wintry sun had something of geniality and warmth, the landscape

lost some of its repulsiveness, the dreary palmettos had less of that hideousness which made us regard them

as very fitting emblems of treason. We even began to feel a little good humored contempt for our hateful

little Brats of guards, and to reflect how much vicious education and surroundings were to be held

We laughed and sang as we rolled along toward Savannahgoing back much faster than the came. We

retold old stories, and repeated old jokes, that had become wearisome months and months ago, but were

now freshened up and given their olden pith by the joyousness of the occasion. We revived and talked over

old schemes gotten up in the earlier days of prison life, of what "we would do when we got out," but almost

forgotten since, in the general uncertainty of ever getting out. We exchanged addresses, and promised

So the afternoon and night passed. We were too excited to sleep, and passed the hours watching the scenery,

recalling the objects we had passed on the way to Blackshear, and guessing how near we were to Savannah.

Though we were running along within fifteen or twenty miles of the coast, with all our guards asleep in the

caboose, no one thought of escape. We could step off the cars and walk over to the seashore as easily as a

man steps out of his door and walks to a neighboring town, but why should we? Were we not going directly

to our vessels in the harbor of Savannah, and was it not better to do this, than to take the chances of escaping,

and encounter the difficulties of reaching our blockaders! We thought so, and we staid on the cars.

A cold, gray Winter morning was just breaking as we reached Savannah. Our train ran down in the City, and

then whistled sharply and ran back a mile or so; it repeated this maneuver two or three times, the evident

design being to keep us on the cars until the people were ready to receive us. Finally our engine ran with all

the speed she was capable of, and as the train dashed into the street we found ourselves between two heavy

The whole sickening reality was made apparent by one glance at the guard line. Our parole was a mockery,

its only object being to get us to Savannah as easily as possible, and to prevent benefit from our recapture to

any of Sherman's Raiders, who might make a dash for the railroad while we were in transit. There had been

After all, I do not think we felt the disappointment as keenly as the first time we were brought to Savannah.

"Now, any of you fellahs that ah too sick to go to Chahlston, step fohwahd one pace."

We looked at each other an instant, and then the whole line stepped forward. We all felt too sick to go to

As the train left the northern suburbs of Savannah we came upon a scene of busy activity, strongly

contrasting with the somnolent lethargy that seemed to be the normal condition of the City and its inhabitants.

Long lines of earthworks were being constructed, gangs of negros were felling trees, building forts and

batteries, making abatis, and toiling with numbers of huge guns which were being moved out and placed in

As we had had no new prisoners nor any papers for some weeksthe papers being doubtless designedly kept

away from uswe were at a loss to know what this meant. We could not understand this erection of

fortifications on that side, because, knowing as we did how well the flanks of the City were protected by the

Savannah and Ogeeche Rivers, we could not see how a force from the coastwhence we supposed an attack

must come, could hope to reach the City's rear, especially as we had just come up on the right flank of the

Our train stopped for a few minutes at the edge of this line of works, and an old citizen who had been

surveying the scene with senile interest, tottered over to our car to take a look at us. He was a type of the old

man of the South of the scanty middle class, the small farmer. Long white hair and beard, spectacles with

great round, staring glasses, a broadbrimmed hat of anteRevolutionary pattern, clothes that had apparently

descended to him from some ancestor who had come over with Oglethorpe, and a twohanded staff with a

head of buckhorn, upon which he leaned as old peasants do in plays, formed such an image as recalled to me

the picture of the old man in the illustrations in "The Dairyman's Daughter." He was as garrulous as a magpie,

and as opinionated as a Southern white always is. Halting in front of our car, he steadied himself by planting

his staff, clasping it with both lean and skinny hands, and leaning forward upon it, his jaws then addressed

"Boys, who mout these be that ye got? "One of the Guards:"O, these is some Yanks that we've bin hivin'

"Yes?" (with an upward inflection of the voice, followed by a close scrutiny of us through the goggleeyed

It will be seen that the old, gentleman's perceptive powers were much more highly developed than his

"So yer Yanks, air ye?" said the venerable GooberGrabber, (the nickname in the South for Georgians),

directing his conversation to me. "Wall, I'm powerful glad to see ye, an' 'specially whar ye can't do no harm;

I've wanted to see some Yankees ever sence the beginnin' of the wah, but hev never had no chance. Whah did

I seemed called upon to answer, and said: "I came from Illinois; most of the boys in this car are from Illinois,

"'Deed! All Westerners, air ye? Wall, do ye know I alluz liked the Westerners a heap sight better than them

No discussion with a Rebel ever proceeded very far without his making an assertion like this. It was a

favorite declaration of theirs, but its absurdity was comical, when one remembered that the majority of them

could not for their lives tell the names of the New England States, and could no more distinguish a

Downeaster from an Illinoisan than they could tell a Saxon from a Bavarian. One day, while I was holding a

conversation similar to the above with an old man on guard, another guard, who had been stationed near a

squad made up of Germans, that talked altogether in the language of the Fatherland, broke in with:

"Out there by post numbah foahteen, where I wuz yesterday, there's a lot of Yanks who jest jabbered away all

the hull time, and I hope I may never see the back of my neck ef I could understand ary word they said, Are

The old gentleman entered upon the next stage of the invariable routine of discussion with a Rebel:

As I had answered this question several hundred times, I had found the most extinguishing reply to be to ask

Disdaining to notice this return in kind, the old man passed on to the next stage:

Now, if negros had been as cheap as oreoide watches, it is doubtful whether the speaker had ever had money

enough in his possession at one time to buy one, and yet he talked of taking away "ouah niggahs," as if they

were as plenty about his place as hills of corn. As a rule, the more abjectly poor a Southerner was, the more

readily he worked himself into a rage over the idea of "takin' away ouah niggahs."

"What are you coming up North to burn my rolling mills and rob my comrade here's bank, and plunder my

No reply, to this counter thrust. The old man passed to the third inevitable proposition:

Old Man(savagely), "Waal, ye don't think ye kin ever lick us; leastways sich fellers as ye air?"

Myself"Well, we warmed it to you pretty lively until you caught us. There were none of us but what were

doing about as good work as any stock you fellows could turn out. No Rebels in our neighborhood had much

to brag on. We are not a drop in the bucket, either. There's millions more better men than we are where we

came from, and they are all determined to stamp out your miserable Confederacy. You've got to come to it,

sooner or later; you must knock under, sure as white blossoms make little apples. You'd better make up your

Old Man"No, sah, nevah. Ye nevah kin conquer us! We're the bravest people and the best fighters on airth.

Ye nevah kin whip any people that's a fightin' fur their liberty an' their right; an' ye nevah can whip the South,

sah, any way. We'll fight ye until all the men air killed, and then the wimmen'll fight ye, sah."

Myself"Well, you may think so, or you may not. From the way our boys are snatching the Confederacy's

real estate away, it begins to look as if you'd not have enough to fight anybody on pretty soon. What's the

Old Man"Why, don't you know? Our folks are fixin' up a place foh Bill Sherman to butt his brains out

"Bill Sherman!" we all shouted in surprise: "Why he ain't within two hundred miles of this place, is he?'

Old Man"Yes, but he is, tho.' He thinks he's played a sharp Yankee trick on Hood. He found out he

couldn't lick him in a squar' fight, nohow; he'd tried that on too often; so he just sneaked 'round behind him,

and made a break for the center of the State, where he thought there was lots of good stealin' to be done. But

we'll show him. We'll soon hev him just whar we want him, an' we'll learn him how to go traipesin' 'round the

country, stealin' nigahs, burnin' cotton, an' runnin' off folkses' beef critters. He sees now the scrape he's got

into, an' he's tryin' to get to the coast, whar the gunboats'll help 'im out. But he'll nevah git thar, sah; no sah,

nevah. He's mouty nigh the end of his rope, sah, and we'll purty' soon hev him jist whar you fellows air, sah."

Myself"Well, if you fellows intended stopping him, why didn't you do it up about Atlanta? What did you

let him come clear through the State, burning and stealing, as you say? It was money in your pockets to head

Old Man"Oh, we didn't set nothing afore him up thar except Joe Brown's Pets, these sorry little Reserves;

they're powerful little account; no standup to'em at all; they'd break their necks runnin' away ef ye so much

Our guards, who belonged to these Reserves, instantly felt that the conversation had progressed farther than

"See heah, old man, you must go off; I can't hev ye talkin' to these prisoners; hits a,gin my awdahs. Go 'way

"When Sherman gits down deep, he'll find somethin' different from the little snots of Reserves he ran over

We could not help enjoying the rage of the guards, over the low estimate placed upon the fighting ability of

themselves and comrades, and as they raved, around about what they would do if they were only given an

opportunity to go into a line of battle against Sherman, we added fuel to the flames of their anger by

confiding to each other that we always "knew that little Brats whose highest ambition was to murder a

defenseless prisoner, could be nothing else than cowards end skulkers in the field."

"Yaassonnies," said Charlie Burroughs, of the Third Michigan, in that nasal Yankee drawl, that he always

assumed, when he wanted to say anything very cutting; "youtrundlebedsoldierswho've

A little later, a paper, which some one had gotten hold of, in some mysterious manner, was secretly passed to

me. I read it as I could find opportunity, and communicated its contents to the rest of the boys. The most

important of these was a flaming proclamation by Governor Joe Brown, setting forth that General Sherman

was now traversing the State, committing all sorts of depredations; that he had prepared the way for his own

destruction, and the Governor called upon all good citizens to rise en masse, and assist in crushing the

audacious invader. Bridges must be burned before and behind him, roads obstructed, and every inch of soil

We enjoyed this. It showed that the Rebels were terribly alarmed, and we began to feel some of that

confidence that "Sherman will come out all right," which so marvelously animated all under his command.

The train started in a few minutes after the close of the conversation with the old Georgian, and we soon

came to and crossed the Savannah River into South Carolina. The river was wide and apparently deep; the

tide was setting back in a swift, muddy current; the crazy old bridge creaked and shook, and the grinding

axles shrieked in the dry journals, as we pulled across. It looked very much at times as if we were to all crash

down into the turbid floodand we did not care very much if we did, if we were not going to be exchanged.

The road lay through the tide swamp region of South Carolina, a peculiar and interesting country. Though

swamps and fens stretched in all directions as far as the eye could reach, the landscape was more grateful to

the eye than the faminestricken, pinebarrens of Georgia, which had become wearisome to the sight. The

soil where it appeared, was rich, vegetation was luxuriant; great clumps of laurel showed glossy richness in

the greenness of its verdure, that reminded us of the fresh color of the vegetation of our Northern homes, so

different from the parched and impoverished look of Georgian foliage. Immense flocks of wild fowl fluttered

around us; the Georgian woods were almost destitute of living creatures; the evergreen liveoak, with its

queer festoons of Spanish moss, and the ugly and useless palmettos gave novelty and interest to the view.

The rice swamps through which we were passing were the princely possessions of the few nabobs who before

the war stood at the head of South Carolina aristocracythey were South Carolina, in fact, as absolutely as

Louis XIV. was France. In their handsbut a few score in numberwas concentrated about all there was of

South Carolina education, wealth, culture, and breeding. They represented a pinchbeck imitation of that

regime in France which was happily swept out of existence by the Revolution, and the destruction of which

more than compensated for every drop of blood shed in those terrible days. Like the provincial 'grandes

seigneurs' of Louis XVI's reign, they were gay, dissipated and turbulent; "accomplished" in the superficial

acquirements that made the "gentleman" one hundred years ago, but are grotesquely out of place in this

sensible, solid age, which demands that a man shall be of use, and not merely for show. They ran horses and

fought cocks, dawdled through society when young, and intrigued in politics the rest of their lives, with

frequent spicework of duels. Esteeming personal courage as a supreme human virtue, and never wearying of

prating their devotion to the highest standard of intrepidity, they never produced a General who was even

mediocre; nor did any one ever hear of a South Carolina regiment gaining distinction. Regarding politics and

the art of government as, equally with arms, their natural vocations, they have never given the Nation a

statesman, and their greatest politicians achieved eminence by advocating ideas which only attracted attention

Still further resembling the French 'grandes seigneurs' of the eighteenth century, they rolled in wealth wrung

from the laborer by reducing the rewards of his toil to the last fraction that would support his life and

strength. The rice culture was immensely profitable, because they had found the secret for raising it more

cheaply than even the pauper laborer of the of world could. Their lands had cost them nothing originally, the

improvements of dikes and ditches were comparatively, inexpensive, the taxes were nominal, and their slaves

Thousands of the acres along the road belonged to the Rhetts, thousands to the Heywards, thousands to the

Manigault the Lowndes, the Middletons, the Hugers, the Barnwells, and the Elliotsall names too well

known in the history of our country's sorrows. Occasionally one of their stately mansions could be seen on

some distant elevation, surrounded by noble old trees, and superb grounds. Here they lived during the healthy

part of the year, but fled thence to summer resort in the highlands as the miasmatic season approached.

The people we saw at the stations along our route were melancholy illustrations of the evils of the rule of

such an oligarchy. There was no middle class visible anywherenothing but the two extremes. A man was

either a "gentleman," and wore white shirt and citymade clothes, or he was a loutish hind, clad in mere

apologies for garments. We thought we had found in the Georgia "cracker" the lowest substratum of human

society, but he was bright intelligence compared to the South Carolina "clayeater" and "sandhiller." The

"cracker" always gave hopes to one that if he had the advantage of common schools, and could be made to

understand that laziness was dishonorable, he might develop into something. There was little foundation for

such hope in the average low South Carolinian. His mind was a shaking quagmire, which did not admit of the

erection of any superstructure of education upon it. The South Carolina guards about us did not know the

name of the next town, though they had been raised in that section. They did not know how far it was there,

or to any place else, and they did not care to learn. They had no conception of what the war was being waged

for, and did not want to find out; they did not know where their regiment was going, and did not remember

where it had been; they could not tell how long they had been in service, nor the time they had enlisted for.

They only remembered that sometimes they had had "sorter good times," and sometimes "they had been

powerful bad," and they hoped there would be plenty to eat wherever they went, and not too much hard

marching. Then they wondered "whar a feller'd be likely to make a raise of a canteen of good whisky?"

Bad as the whites were, the rice plantation negros were even worse, if that were possible. Brought to the

country centuries ago, as brutal savages from Africa, they had learned nothing of Christian civilization,

except that it meant endless toil, in malarious swamps, under the lash of the taskmaster. They wore, possibly,

a little more clothing than their Senegambian ancestors did; they ate corn meal, yams and rice, instead of

bananas, yams and rice, as their forefathers did, and they had learned a bastard, almost unintelligible, English.

These were the sole blessings acquired by a transfer from a life of freedom in the jungles of the Gold Coast,

I could not then, nor can I now, regret the downfall of a system of society which bore such fruits.

Towards night a distressingly cold breeze, laden with a penetrating mist, set in from the sea, and put an end to

future observations by making us too uncomfortable to care for scenery or social conditions. We wanted most

to devise a way to keep warm. Andrews and I pulled our overcoat and blanket closely about us, snuggled

together so as to make each one's meager body afford the other as much heat as possibleand endured.

We became fearfully hungry. It will be recollected that we ate the whole of the two days' rations issued to us

at Blackshear at once, and we had received nothing since. We reached the sullen, fainting stage of great

hunger, and for hours nothing was said by any one, except an occasional bitter execration on Rebels and

It was late at night when we reached Charleston. The lights of the City, and the apparent warmth and comfort

there cheered us up somewhat with the hopes that we might have some share in them. Leaving the train, we

were marched some distance through welllighted streets, in which were plenty of people walking to and fro.

There were many stores, apparently stocked with goods, and the citizens seemed to be going about their

At length our head of column made a "right turn," and we marched away from the lighted portion of the City,

to a part which I could see through the shadows was filled with ruins. An almost insupportable odor of gas,

escaping I suppose from the ruptured pipes, mingled with the cold, rasping air from the sea, to make every

As I saw the ruins, it flashed upon me that this was the burnt district of the city, and they were putting us

under the fire of our own guns. At first I felt much alarmed. Little relish as I had on general principles, for

being shot I had much less for being killed by our own men. Then I reflected that if they put me thereand

kept mea guard would have to be placed around us, who would necessarily be in as much clanger as we

We were halted in a vacant lot, and sat down, only to jump up the next instant, as some one shouted:

It was a great shell from the Swamp Angel Battery. Starting from a point miles away, where, seemingly, the

sky came down to the sea, was a, narrow ribbon of fire, which slowly unrolled itself against the starlit vault

over our heads. On, on it came, and was apparently following the sky down to the horizon behind us. As it

We watched it breathlessly, and it seemed to be long minutes in running its course; then a thump upon the

ground, and a vibration, told that it had struck. For a moment there was a dead silence. Then came a loud

roar, and the crash of breaking timber and crushing walls. The shell had bursted.

Ten minutes later another shell followed, with like results. For awhile we forgot all about hunger in the

excitement of watching the messengers from "God's country." What happiness to be where those shells came

from. Soon a Rebel battery of heavy guns somewhere near and in front of us, waked up, and began answering

with dull, slow thumps that made the ground shudder. This continued about an hour, when it quieted down

again, but our shells kept coming over at regular intervals with the same slow deliberation, the same

prolonged warning, and the same dreadful crash when they struck. They had already gone on this way for

The routine was the same from day to day, month in, and month out, from early in August, 1863, to the

middle of April, 1865. Every few minutes during the day our folks would hurl a great shell into the

beleaguered City, and twice a day, for perhaps an hour each time, the Rebel batteries would talk back. It must

have been a lesson to the Charlestonians of the persistent, methodical spirit of the North. They prided

themselves on the length of the time they were holding out against the enemy, and the papers each day had a

or 391st, 393d, etc., as the number might be since our people opened fire upon the City. The part where we

lay was a mass of ruins. Many large buildings had been knocked down; very many more were riddled with

shot holes and tottering to their fall. One night a shell passed through a large building about a quarter of a

mile from us. It had already been struck several times, and was shaky. The shell went through with a

deafening crash. All was still for an instant; then it exploded with a dull roar, followed by more crashing of

timber and walls. The sound died away and was succeeded by a moment of silence. Finally the great building

fell, a shapeless heap of ruins, with a noise like that of a dozen field pieces. We wanted to cheer but

There was only one section of the City in reach of our guns and this was nearly destroyed. Fires had come to

complete the work begun by the shells. Outside of the boundaries of this region, the people felt themselves as

safe as in one of our northern Cities today. They had an abiding faith that they were clear out of reach of

any artillery that we could mount. I learned afterwards from some of the prisoners, who went into Charleston

ahead of us, and were camped on the race course outside of the City, that one day our fellows threw a shell

clear over the City to this race course. There was an immediate and terrible panic among the citizens. They

thought we had mounted some new guns of increased range, and now the whole city must go. But the next

shell fell inside the established limits, and those following were equally well behaved, so that the panic

abated. I have never heard any explanation of the matter. It may have been some freak of the gunsquad,

trying the effect of an extra charge of powder. Had our people known of its signal effect, they could have

The whole matter impressed me queerly. The only artillery I had ever seen in action were field pieces. They

made an earsplitting crash when they were discharged, and there was likely to be oceans of trouble for

everybody in that neighborhood about that time. I reasoned from this that bigger guns made a proportionally

greater amount of noise, and bred an infinitely larger quantity of trouble. Now I was hearing the giants of the

world's ordnance, and they were not so impressive as a lively battery of threeinch rifles. Their reports did

not threaten to shatter everything, but had a dull resonance, something like that produced by striking an

empty barrel with a wooden maul. Their shells did not come at one in that wildly, ferocious way, with which

a missile from a six pounder convinces every fellow in a long line of battle that he is the identical one it is

meant for, but they meandered over in a lazy, leisurely manner, as if time was no object and no person would

feel put out at having to wait for them. Then, the idea of firing every quarter of an hour for a yearfixing up

a job for a lifetime, as Andrews expressed it,and of being fired back at for an hour at 9 o'clock every

morning and evening; of fifty thousand people going on buying and selling, eating, drinking and sleeping,

having dances, drives and balls, marrying and giving in marriage, all within a few hundred yards of where the

We received no rations until the day after our arrival, and then they were scanty, though fair in quality. We

were by this time so hungry and faint that we could hardly move. We did nothing for hours but lie around on

the ground and try to forget how famished we were. At the announcement of rations, many acted as if crazy,

and it was all that the Sergeants could do to restrain the impatient mob from tearing the food away and

devouring it, when they were trying to divide it out. Very manyperhaps thirtydied during the night and

morning. No blame for this is attached to the Charlestonians. They distinguished themselves from the citizens

of every other place in the Southern Confederacy where we had been, by making efforts to relieve our

condition. They sent quite a quantity of food to us, and the Sisters of Charity came among us, seeking and

ministering to the sick. I believe our experience was the usual one. The prisoners who passed through

Charleston before us all spoke very highly of the kindness shown them by the citizens there.

We remained in Charleston but a few days. One night we were marched down to a rickety depot, and put

aboard a still more rickety train. When morning came we found ourselves running northward through a pine

barren country that resembled somewhat that in Georgia, except that the pine was shortleaved, there was

more oak and other hard woods, and the vegetation generally assumed a more Northern look. We had been

put into close box cars, with guards at the doors and on top. During the night quite a number of the boys, who

had fabricated little saws out of case knives and fragments of hoop iron, cut holes through the bottoms of the

cars, through which they dropped to the ground and escaped, but were mostly recaptured after several days.

Just at dusk we came to the insignificant village of Florence, the junction of the road leading from Charleston

to Cheraw with that running from Wilmington to Kingsville. It was about one hundred and twenty miles from

Charleston, and the same distance from Wilmington. As our train ran through a cut near the junction a darky

stood by the track gazing at us curiously. When the train had nearly passed him he started to run up the bank.

In the imperfect light the guards mistook him for one of us who had jumped from the train. They all fired, and

That night we camped in the open field. When morning came we saw, a few hundred yards from us, a

Stockade of rough logs, with guards stationed around it. It was another prison pen. They were just bringing

the dead out, and two men were tossing the bodies up into the fourhorse wagon which hauled them away for

burial. The men were going about their business as coolly as if loading slaughtered hogs. 'One of them would

catch the body by the feet, and the other by the arms. They would give it a swing"One, two, three," and up

it would go into the wagon. This filled heaping full with corpses, a negro mounted the wheel horse, grasped

The horses strained, the wagon moved, and its load of what were once gallant, devoted soldiers, was carted

As we stood looking at the sickeningly familiar architecture of the prison pen, a Seventh Indianian near me

Well, this Southern Confederacy is the ddest country to stand logs on end on God Almighty's footstool."

It did not require a very acute comprehension to understand that the Stockade at which we were gazing was

As usual, this discovery was the deathwarrant of many whose lives had only been prolonged by the hoping

against hope that the movement would terminate inside our lines. When the portentous palisades showed to a

fatal certainty that the word of promise had been broken to their hearts, they gave up the struggle wearily, lay

Andrews and I were not in the humor for dying just then. The long imprisonment, the privations of hunger,

the scourging by the elements, the death of four out of every five of our number had indeed dulled and

stupefied usbred an indifference to our own suffering and a seeming callosity to that of others, but there

still burned in our hearts, and in the hearts of every one about us, a dull, sullen, smoldering fire of hate and

defiance toward everything Rebel, and a lust for revenge upon those who had showered woes upon our heads.

There was little fear of death; even the King of Terrors loses most of his awful character upon tolerably close

acquaintance, and we had been on very intimate terms with him for a year now. He was a constant visitor,

who dropped in upon us at all hours of the day and night, and would not be denied to any one.

Since my entry into prison fully fifteen thousand boys had died around me, and in no one of them had I seen

the least, dread or reluctance to go. I believe this is generally true of death by disease, everywhere. Our ever

kindly mother, Nature, only makes us dread death when she desires us to preserve life. When she summons

More than for anything else, we wanted to live now to triumph over the Rebels. To simply die would be of

little importance, but to die unrevenged would be fearful. If we, the despised, the contemned, the insulted, the

starved and maltreated; could live to come back to our oppressors as the armed ministers of retribution,

terrible in the remembrance of the wrongs of ourselves and comrade's, irresistible as the agents of heavenly

justice, and mete out to them that Biblical return of sevenfold of what they had measured out to us, then we

would be content to go to death afterwards. Had the thriceaccursed Confederacy and our malignant gaolers

The December morning was gray and leaden; dull, somber, snowladen clouds swept across the sky before

The ground, frozen hard and stiff, cut and hurt our bare feet at every step; an icy breeze drove in through the

holes in our rags, and smote our bodies like blows from sticks. The trees and shrubbery around were as naked

Over and around us hung like a cold miasma the sickening odor peculiar to Southern forests in Winter time.

Out of the naked, repelling, unlovely earth rose the Stockade, in hideous ugliness. At the gate the two men

continued at their monotonous labor of tossing the dead of the previous day into the wagonheaving into that

rude hearse the inanimate remains that had once tempted gallant, manly hearts, glowing with patriotism and

devotion to countrypiling up listlessly and wearily, in a mass of nameless, emaciated corpses, fluttering

with rags, and swarming with vermin, the pride, the joy of a hundred fair Northern homes, whose light had

Around the prison walls shambled the guards, blanketed like Indians, and with faces and hearts of wolves.

Other Rebelsalso clad in dingy butternutslouched around lazily, crouched over diminutive fires, and

talked idle gossip in the broadest of "nigger" dialect. Officers swelled and strutted hither and thither, and

negro servants loitered around, striving to spread the least amount of work over the greatest amount of time.

While I stood gazing in gloomy silence at the depressing surroundings Andrews, less speculative and more

practical, saw a goodsized pine stump near by, which had so much of the earth washed away from it that it

looked as if it could be readily pulled up. We had had bitter experience in other prisons as to the value of

wood, and Andrews reasoned that as we would be likely to have a repetition of this in the Stockade we were

about to enter, we should make an effort to secure the stump. We both attacked it, and after a great deal of

hard work, succeeded in uprooting it. It was very lucky that we did, since it was the greatest help in

preserving our lives through the three long months that we remained at Florence.

While we were arranging our stump so as to carry it to the best advantage, a vulgarfaced man, with fiery red

hair, and wearing on his collar the yellow bars of a Lieutenant, approached. This was Lieutenant Barrett,

commandant of the interior of the prison, and a more inhuman wretch even than Captain Wirz, because he

had a little more brains than the commandant at Andersonville, and this extra intellect was wholly devoted to

This was simply preposterous. As every soldier knows, wheeling by companies is one of the most difficult of

manuvers, and requires some preparation of a battalion before attempting to execute it. Our thousand was

made up of infantry, cavalry and artillery, representing, perhaps, one hundred different regiments. We had not

been divided off into companies, and were encumbered with blankets, tents, cooking utensils, wood, etc.,

which prevented our moving with such freedom as to make a company wheel, even had we been divided up

into companies and drilled for the maneuver. The attempt to obey the command was, of course, a ludicrous

failure. The Rebel officers standing near Barrett laughed openly at his stupidity in giving such an order, but

he was furious. He hurled at us a torrent of the vilest abuse the corrupt imagination of man can conceive, and

swore until he was fairly black in the face. He fired his revolver off over our heads, and shrieked and shouted

until he had to stop from sheer exhaustion. Another officer took command then, and marched us into prison.

We found this a small copy of Andersonville. There was a stream running north and south, on either side of

which was a swamp. A Stockade of rough logs, with the bark still on, inclosed several acres. The front of the

prison was toward the West. A piece of artillery stood before the gate, and a platform at each corner bore a

gun, elevated high enough to rake the whole inside of the prison. A man stood behind each of these guns

continually, so as to open with them at any moment. The earth was thrown up against the outside of the

palisades in a high embankment, along the top of which the guards on duty walked, it being high enough to

elevate their head, shoulders and breasts above the tops of the logs. Inside the inevitable deadline was traced

by running a furrow around the prisontwenty feet from the Stockadewith a plow. In one respect it was an

improvement on Andersonville: regular streets were laid off, so that motion about the camp was possible, and

cleanliness was promoted. Also, the crowd inside was not so dense as at Camp Sumter.

The prisoners were divided into hundreds and thousands, with Sergeants at the heads of the divisions. A very

good police forceorganized and officered by the prisonersmaintained order and prevented crime. Thefts

and other offenses were punished, as at Andersonville, by the Chief of Police sentencing the offenders to be

We found very many of our Andersonville acquaintances inside, and for several days comparisons of

experience were in order. They had left Andersonville a few days after us, but were taken to Charleston

instead of Savannah. The same story of exchange was dinned into their ears until they arrived at Charleston,

when the truth was told them, that no exchange was contemplated, and that they had been deceived for the

Still they were treated well in Charlestonbetter than they bad been anywhere else. Intelligent physicians

had visited the sick, prescribed for them, furnished them with proper medicines, and admitted the worst cases

to the hospital, where they were given something of the care that one would expect in such an institution.

Wheat bread, molasses and rice were issued to them, and also a few spoonfuls of vinegar, daily, which were

very grateful to them in their scorbutic condition. The citizens sent in clothing, food and vegetables. The

Sisters of Charity were indefatigable in ministering to the sick and dying. Altogether, their recollections of

Despite the disagreeable prominence which the City had in the Secession movement, there was a very strong

Union element there, and many men found opportunity to do favors to the prisoners and reveal to them how

After they had been in Charleston a fortnight or more, the yellow fever broke out in the City, and soon

Early in October they had been sent away from the City to their present location, which was then a piece of

forest land. There was no stockade or other enclosure about them, and one night they forced the guardline,

about fifteen hundred escaping, under a pretty sharp fire from the guards. After getting out they scattered,

each group taking a different route, some seeking Beaufort, and other places along the seaboard, and the rest

trying to gain the mountains. The whole State was thrown into the greatest perturbation by the occurrence.

The papers magnified the proportion of the outbreak, and lauded fulsomely the gallantry of the guards in

endeavoring to withstand the desperate assaults of the frenzied Yankees. The people were wrought up into the

highest alarm as to outrages and excesses that these flying desperados might be expected to commit. One

would think that another Grecian horse, introduced into the heart of the Confederate Troy, had let out its fatal

band of armed men. All good citizens were enjoined to turn out and assist in arresting the runaways. The

vigilance of all patrolling was redoubled, and such was the effectiveness of the measures taken that before a

month nearly every one of the fugitives had been retaken and sent back to Florence. Few of these complained

of any special illtreatment by their captors, while many reported frequent acts of kindness, especially when

their captors belonged to the middle and upper classes. The lowdown classthe clay eaterson the other

hand, almost always abused their prisoners, and sometimes, it is pretty certain, murdered them in cold blood.

About this time Winder came on from Andersonville, and then everything changed immediately to the

complexion of that place. He began the erection of the Stockade, and made it very strong. The Dead Line was

established, but instead of being a strip of plank upon the top of low posts, as at Andersonville, it was simply

a shallow trench, which was sometimes plainly visible, and sometimes not. The guards always resolved

matters of doubt against the prisoners, and fired on them when they supposed them too near where the Dead

Line ought to be. Fifteen acres of ground were enclosed by the palisades, of which five were taken up by the

creek and swamp, and three or four more by the Dead Line; main streets, etc., leaving about seven or eight

for the actual use of the prisoners, whose number swelled to fifteen thousand by the arrivals from

Andersonville. This made the crowding together nearly as bad as at the latter place, and for awhile the same

fatal results followed. The mortality, and the sending away of several thousand on the sick exchange, reduced

the aggregate number at the time of our arrival to about eleven thousand, which gave more room to all, but

was still not onetwentieth of the space which that number of men should have had.

No shelter, nor material for constructing any, was furnished. The ground was rather thickly wooded, and

covered with undergrowth, when the Stockade was built, and certainly no bit of soil was ever so thoroughly

cleared as this was. The trees and brush were cut down and worked up into hut building materials by the same

slow and laborious process that I have described as employed in building our huts at Millen.

Then the stumps were attacked for fuel, and with such persistent thoroughness that after some weeks there

was certainly not enough woody material left in that whole fifteen acres of ground to kindle a small kitchen

fire. The men would begin work on the stump of a good sized tree, and chip and split it off painfully and

slowly until they had followed it to the extremity of the tap root ten or fifteen feet below the surface. The

lateral roots would be followed with equal determination, and trenches thirty feet long, and two or three feet

deep were dug with caseknives and halfcanteens, to get a root as thick as one's wrist. The roots of shrubs

and vines were followed up and gathered with similar industry. The cold weather and the scanty issues of

The huts constructed were as various as the materials and the tastes of the builders. Those who were fortunate

enough to get plenty of timber built such cabins as I have described at Millen. Those who had less eked out

their materials in various ways. Most frequently all that a squad of three or four could get would be a few

slender poles and some brush. They would dig a hole in the ground two feet deep and large enough for them

all to lie in. Then putting up a stick at each end and laying a ridge pole across, they, would adjust the rest of

their material so as to form sloping sides capable of supporting earth enough to make a water tight roof. The

great majority were not so well off as these, and had absolutely, nothing of which to build. They had recourse

to the clay of the swamp, from which they fashioned rude sundried bricks, and made adobe houses, shaped

like a bee hive, which lasted very well until a hard rain came, when they dissolved into red mire about the

Remember that all these makeshifts were practiced within a halfamile of an almost boundless forest, from

which in a day's time the camp could have been supplied with material enough to give every man a

Winder had found in Barrett even a better tool for his cruel purposes than Wirz. The two resembled each

other in many respects. Both were absolutely destitute of any talent for commanding men, and could no more

handle even one thousand men properly than a cabin boy could navigate a great ocean steamer. Both were

given to the same senseless fits of insane rage, coming and going without apparent cause, during which they

fired revolvers and guns or threw clubs into crowds of prisoners, or knocked down such as were within reach

of their fists. These exhibitions were such as an overgrown child might be expected to make. They did not

secure any result except to increase the prisoners' wonder that such ill tempered fools could be given any

A short time previous to our entry Barrett thought he had reason to suspect a tunnel. He immediately

announced that no more rations should be issued until its whereabouts was revealed and the, ringleaders in

the attempt to escape delivered up to him. The rations at that time were very scanty, so that the first day they

were cut off the sufferings were fearful. The boys thought he would surely relent the next day, but they did

not know their man. He was not suffering any, why should he relax his severity? He strolled leisurely out

from his dinner table, picking his teeth with his penknife in the comfortable, selfsatisfied way of a coarse

man who has just filled his stomach to his entire contentan attitude and an air that was simply maddening

That night thirteen thousand men, crazy, fainting with hunger, walked hither and thither, until exhaustion

forced them to become quiet, sat on the ground and pressed their bowels in by leaning against sticks of wood

laid across their thighs; trooped to the Creek and drank water until their gorges rose and they could swallow

no moredid everything in fact that imagination could suggestto assuage the pangs of the deadly gnawing

that was consuming their vitals. All the cruelties of the terrible Spanish Inquisition, if heaped together, would

not sum up a greater aggregate of anguish than was endured by them. The third day came, and still no signs

of yielding by Barrett. The Sergeants counseled together. Something must be done. The fellow would starve

the whole camp to death with as little compunction as one drowns blind puppies. It was necessary to get up a

tunnel to show Barrett, and to get boys who would confess to being leaders in the work. A number of gallant

fellows volunteered to brave his wrath, and save the rest of their comrades. It required high courage to do

this, as there was no question but that the punishment meted out would be as fearful as the cruel mind of the

fellow could conceive. The Sergeants decided that four would be sufficient to answer the purpose; they

selected these by lot, marched them to the gate and delivered them over to Barrett, who thereupon ordered the

rations to be sent in. He was considerate enough, too, to feed the men he was going to torture.

The starving men in the Stockade could not wait after the rations were issued to cook them, but in many

instances mixed the meal up with water, and swallowed it raw. Frequently their stomachs, irritated by the

long fast, rejected the mess; any very many had reached the stage where they loathed food; a burning fever

was consuming them, and seething their brains with delirium. Hundreds died within a few days, and hundreds

more were so debilitated by the terrible strain that they did not linger long afterward.

The boys who had offered themselves as a sacrifice for the rest were put into a guard house, and kept over

night that Barrett might make a day of the amusement of torturing them. After he had laid in a hearty

breakfast, and doubtless fortified himself with some of the villainous sorgum whisky, which the Rebels were

The devoted four were brought outone by oneand their hands tied together behind their backs. Then a

noose of a slender, strong hemp rope was slipped over the first one's thumbs and drawn tight, after which the

rope was thrown over a log projecting from the roof of the guard house, and two or three Rebels hauled upon

it until the miserable Yankee was lifted from the ground, and hung suspended by the thumbs, while his

weight seemed tearing his limbs from his shoulder blades. The other three were treated in the same manner.

The agony was simply excruciating. The boys were brave, and had resolved to stand their punishment

without a groan, but this was too much for human endurance. Their will was strong, but Nature could not be

denied, and they shrieked aloud so pitifully that a young Reserve standing near fainted. Each one screamed:

"For God's sake, kill me! kill me! Shoot me ifyou want to, but let me down from here!" The only effect of

this upon Barrett was to light up his brutal face with a leer of fiendish satisfaction. He said to the guards with

"By God, I'll learn these Yanks to be more afeard of me than of the old devil himself. They'll soon understand

that I'm not the man to fool with. I'm old pizen, I am, when I git started. Jest hear 'em squeal, won't yer?"

"Dn yer skins, ye'll dig tunnels, will ye? Ye'll try to git out, and run through the country stealin' and

carryin' off niggers, and makin' more trouble than yer dd necks are worth. I'll learn ye all about that. If I

ketch ye at this sort of work again, dd ef I don't kill ye ez soon ez I ketch ye."

And so on, ad infinitum. How long the boys were kept up there undergoing this torture can not be said.

Perhaps it was an hour or more. To the lockeron it seemed long hours, to the poor fellows themselves it was

ages. When they were let down at last, all fainted, and were carried away to the hospital, where they were

When we came into the prison there were about eleven thousand there. More uniformly wretched creatures I

had never before seen. Up to the time of our departure from Andersonville the constant influx of new

prisoners had prevented the misery and wasting away of life from becoming fully realized. Though thousands

were continually dying, thousands more of healthy, clean, wellclothed men were as continually coming in

from the front, so that a large portion of those inside looked in fairly good condition. Put now no new

prisoners had come in for months; the money which made such a show about the sutler shops of

Andersonville had been spent; and there was in every face the same look of ghastly emaciation, the same

shrunken muscles and feeble limbs, the same lackluster eyes and hopeless countenances.

One of the commonest of sights was to see men whose hands and feet were simply rotting off. The nights

were frequently so cold that ice a quarter of an inch thick formed on the water. The naked frames of starving

men were poorly calculated to withstand this frosty rigor, and thousands had their extremities so badly frozen

as to destroy the life in those parts, and induce a rotting of the tissues by a dry gangrene. The rotted flesh

frequently remained in its place for a long time a loathsome but painless mass, that gradually sloughed off,

leaving the sinews that passed through it to stand out like shining, white cords.

While this was in some respects less terrible than the hospital gangrene at Andersonville, it was more

generally diffused, and dreadful to the last degree. The Rebel Surgeons at Florence did not follow the habit of

those at Andersonville, and try to check the disease by wholesale amputation, but simply let it run its course,

and thousands finally carried their putrefied limbs through our lines, when the Confederacy broke up in the

I had been in prison but a little while when a voice called out from a hole in the ground, as I was passing:

"Just take these shears, won't you, and cut my toes off?" answered the inmate, an Indiana

infantrymanholding up a pair of dull shears in his hand, and elevating a foot for me to look at.

I examined the latter carefully. All the flesh of the toes, except little pads at the ends, had rotted off, leaving

the bones as clean as if scraped. The little tendons still remained, and held the bones to their places, but this

"You'd better let one of the Rebel doctors see this," I said, after finishing my survey, "before you conclude to

"No; dd if I'm going to have any of them Rebel butchers fooling around me. I'd die first, and then I

wouldn't," was the reply. "You can do it better than they can. It's just a little snip. Just try it."

"I don't like to," I replied. "I might lame you for life, and make you lots of trouble."

"O, bother! what business is that of yours? They're my toes, and I want 'em off. They hurt me so I can't sleep.

I yielded, and taking the shears, snipped one tendon after another, close to the feet, and in a few seconds had

the whole ten toes lying in a heap at the bottom of the dugout. I picked them up and handed them to their

"Well, I'm darned glad they're off. I won't be bothered with corns any more, I flatter myself."

We were put into the old squads to fill the places of those who had recently died, being assigned to these

vacancies according to the initials of our surnames, the same rolls being used that we had signed as paroles.

This separated Andrews and me, for the "A's" were taken to fill up the first hundreds of the First Thousand,

I was put into the Second Hundred of the Second Thousand, and its Sergeant dying shortly after, I was given

his place, and commanded the hundred, drew its rations, made out its rolls, and looked out for its sick during

Andrews and I got together again, and began fixing up what little we could to protect ourselves against the

weather. Cold as this was we decided that it was safer to endure it and risk frostbiting every night than to

build one of the mudwalled and mudcovered holes that so many, lived in. These were much warmer than

lying out on the frozen ground, but we believed that they were very unhealthy, and that no one lived long

So we set about repairing our faithful old blanketnow full of great holes. We watched the dead men to get

pieces of cloth from their garments to make patches, which we sewed on with yarn raveled from other

fragments of woolen cloth. Some of our company, whom we found in the prison, donated us the three sticks

necessary to make tentpoles wonderful generosity when the preciousness of firewood is remembered. We

hoisted our blanket upon these; built a wall of mud bricks at one end, and in it a little fireplace to economize

our scanty fuel to the last degree, and were once more at home, and much better off than most of our

One of these, the proprietor of a hole in the ground covered with an arch of adobe bricks, had absolutely no

bedclothes except a couple of short pieces of boardand very little other clothing. He dug a trench in the

bottom of what was by courtesy called his tent, sufficiently large to contain his body below his neck. At

nightfall he would crawl into this, put his two bits of board so that they joined over his breast, and then say:

"Now, boys, cover me over;" whereupon his friends would cover him up with dry sand from the sides of his

domicile, in which he would slumber quietly till morning, when he would rise, shake the sand from his

garments, and declare that he felt as well refreshed as if he had slept on a spring mattress.

There has been much talk of earth baths of late years in scientific and medical circles. I have been sorry that

our Florence comrade if he still livesdid not contribute the results of his experience.

The pinching cold cured me of my repugnance to wearing dead men's clothes, or rather it made my nakedness

so painful that I was glad to cover it as best I could, and I began foraging among the corpses for garments.

For awhile my efforts to set myself up in the mortuary second hand clothing business were not all

successful. I found that dying men with good clothes were as carefully watched over by sets of fellows who

constituted themselves their residuary legatees as if they were men of fortune dying in the midst of a circle of

expectant nephews and nieces. Before one was fairly cold his clothes would be appropriated and divided, and

I soon perceived that my best chance was to get up very early in the morning, and do my hunting. The nights

were so cold that many could not sleep, and they would walk up and down the streets, trying to keep warm by

exercise. Towards morning, becoming exhausted, they would lie down on the ground almost anywhere, and

die. I have frequently seen so many as fifty of these. My first "find" of any importance was a young

Pennsylvania Zouave, who was lying dead near the bridge that crossed the Creek. His clothes were all badly

worn, except his baggy, dark trousers, which were nearly new. I removed these, scraped out from each of the

dozens of great folds in the legs about a half pint of lice, and drew the garments over my own halffrozen

limbs, the first real covering those members had had for four or five months. The pantaloons only came down

about halfway between my knees and feet, but still they were wonderfully comfortable to what I had

beenor rather not beenwearing. I had picked up a pair of boot bottoms, which answered me for shoes,

and now I began a hunt for socks. This took several morning expeditions, but on one of them I was rewarded

with finding a corpse with a good brown one army makeand a few days later I got another, a good, thick

genuine one, knit at home, of blue yarn, by some patient, careful housewife. Almost the next morning I had

the good fortune to find a dead man with a warm, whole, infantry dresscoat, a most serviceable garment. As

I still had for a shirt the blouse Andrews had given me at Millen, I now considered my wardrobe complete,

Those who used tobacco seemed to suffer more from a deprivation of the weed than from lack of food. There

were no sacrifices they would not make to obtain it, and it was no uncommon thing for boys to trade off half

their rations for a chew of "navy plug." As long as one had anythingespecially buttonsto trade, tobacco

could be procured from the guards, who were plentifully supplied with it. When means of barter were gone,

chewers frequently became so desperate as to beg the guards to throw them a bit of the precious nicotine.

Shortly after our arrival at Florence, a prisoner on the East Side approached one of the Reserves with the

The unsuspecting prisoner stepped across the Dead Line, and the guarda boy of sixteenraised his gun

At the North Side of the prison, the path down to the Creek lay right along side of the Dead Line, which was

At night the guards, in their zeal to kill somebody, were very likely to imagine that any one going along the

path for water was across the Dead Line, and fire upon him. It was as bad as going upon the skirmish line to

go for water after nightfall. Yet every night a group of boys would be found standing at the head of the path

That is, they were willing to take all the risk of running that gauntlet for this moderate compensation.

The rations of wood grew smaller as the weather grew colder, until at last they settled down to a piece about

the size of a kitchen rollingpin per day for each man. This had to serve for all purposescooking, as well as

warming. We split the rations up into slips about the size of a carpenter's lead pencil, and used them

parsimoniously, never building a fire so big that it could not be covered with a halfpeck measure. We

hovered closely over thiscovering it, in fact, with our hands and bodies, so that not a particle of heat was

lost. Remembering the Indian's sage remark, "That the white man built a big fire and sat away off from it; the

Indian made a little fire and got up close to it," we let nothing in the way of caloric be wasted by distance.

The pitchpine produced great quantities of soot, which, in cold and rainy days, when we hung over the fires

all the time, blackened our faces until we were beyond the recognition of intimate friends.

There was the same economy of fuel in cooking. Less than half as much as is contained in a penny bunch of

kindling was made to suffice in preparing our daily meal. If we cooked mush we elevated our little can an

inch from the ground upon a chunk of clay, and piled the little sticks around it so carefully that none should

burn without yielding all its heat to the vessel, and not one more was burned than absolutely necessary. If we

baked bread we spread the dough upon our chessboard, and propped it up before the little fireplace, and

used every particle of heat evolved. We had to pinch and starve ourselves thus, while within five minutes'

The stump Andrews and I had the foresight to save now did us excellent service. It was pitch pine, very fat

with resin, and a little piece split off each day added much to our fires and our comfort.

One morning, upon examining the pockets of an infantryman of my hundred who had just died, I had the

wonderful luck to find a silver quarter. I hurried off to tell Andrews of our unexpected good fortune. By an

effort he succeeded in calming himself to the point of receiving the news with philosophic coolness, and we

went into Committee of the Whole Upon the State of Our Stomachs, to consider how the money could be

spent to the best advantage. At the south side of the Stockade on the outside of the timbers, was a sutler shop,

kept by a Rebel, and communicating with the prison by a hole two or three feet square, cut through the logs.

The Dead Line was broken at this point, so as to permit prisoners to come up to the hole to trade. The articles

for sale were corn meal and bread, flour and wheat bread, meat, beaus, molasses, honey, sweet potatos, etc. I

went down to the place, carefully inspected the stock, priced everything there, and studied the relative food

value of each. I came back, reported my observations and conclusions to Andrews, and then staid at the tent

while he went on a similar errand. The consideration of the matter was continued during the day and night,

and the next morning we determined upon investing our twentyfive cents in sweet potatos, as we could get

nearly a halfbushel of them, which was "more fillin' at the price," to use the words of Dickens's Fat Boy,

than anything else offered us. We bought the potatos, carried them home in our blanket, buried them in the

bottom of our tent, to keep them from being stolen, and restricted ourselves to two per day until we had eaten

The Rebels did something more towards properly caring for the sick than at Andersonville. A hospital was

established in the northwestern corner of the Stockade, and separated from the rest of the camp by a line of

police, composed of our own men. In this space several large sheds were erected, of that rude architecture

common to the coarser sort of buildings in the South. There was not a nail or a bolt used in their entire

construction. Forked posts at the ends and sides supported poles upon which were laid the long "shakes," or

split shingles, forming the roofs, and which were held in place by other poles laid upon them. The sides and

ends were enclosed by similar "shakes," and altogether they formed quite a fair protection against the

weather. Beds of pine leaves were provided for the sick, and some coverlets, which our Sanitary Commission

had been allowed to send through. But nothing was done to bathe or cleanse them, or to exchange their

liceinfested garments for others less full of torture. The long tangled hair and whiskers were not cut, nor

indeed were any of the commonest suggestions for the improvement of the condition of the sick put into

execution. Men who had laid in their mud hovels until they had become helpless and hopeless, were admitted

The diseases were different in character from those which swept off the prisoners at Andersonville. There

they were mostly of the digestive organs; here of the respiratory. The filthy, putrid, speedily fatal gangrene of

Andersonville became here a dry, slow wasting away of the parts, which continued for weeks, even months,

without being necessarily fatal. Men's feet and legs, and less frequently their hands and arms, decayed and

sloughed off. The parts became so dead that a knife could be run through them without causing a particle of

pain. The dead flesh hung on to the bones and tendons long after the nerves and veins had ceased to perform

their functions, and sometimes startled one by dropping off in a lump, without causing pain or hemorrhage.

The appearance of these was, of course, frightful, or would have been, had we not become accustomed to

them. The spectacle of men with their feet and legs a mass of dry ulceration, which had reduced the flesh to

putrescent deadness, and left the tendons standing out like cords, was too common to excite remark or even

attention. Unless the victim was a comrade, no one specially heeded his condition. Lung diseases and low

fevers ravaged the camp, existing all the time in a more or less virulent condition, according to the changes of

the weather, and occasionally ragging in destructive epidemics. I am unable to speak with any degree of

definiteness as to the death rate, since I had ceased to interest myself about the number dying each day. I had

now been a prisoner a year, and had become so torpid and stupefied, mentally and physically, that I cared

comparatively little for anything save the rations of food and of fuel. The difference of a few spoonfuls of

meal, or a large splinter of wood in the daily issues to me, were of more actual importance than the increase

or decrease of the death rate by a half a score or more. At Andersonville I frequently took the trouble to count

Nor can I find that anybody else is in possession of much more than my own information on the subject.

The prison records of Florence, S. C., have never come to light, and therefore the number of prisoners

confined there could not be ascertained from the records on file in this office; nor do I think that any

In the report to Congress of March 1, 1869, it was shown from records as follows:

Escaped, fiftyeight; paroled, one; died, two thousand seven hundred and ninetythree. Total, two thousand

Died, two hundred and twelve; enlisted in Rebel army, three hundred and twentysix. Total, five hundred and

Making a total disposed of from there, as shown by records on file, of three thousand three hundred and

The hospital register on file contains that part only of the alphabet subsequent to, and including part of the

letter S, but from this register, it is shown that the prisoners were arranged in hundreds and thousands, and the

hundred and thousand to which he belonged is recorded opposite each man's name on said register. Thus:

Eleven thousand being the highest number thus recorded, it is fair to presume that not less than that number

were confined there on a certain date, and that more than that number were confined there during the time it

Statement showing the whole number of Federals and Confederates captured, (less the number paroled on the

field), the number who died while prisoners, and the percentage of deaths, 18611865

FEDERALS Captured .................................................. 187,818 Died, (as shown by prison and hospital

records on file).... 30,674 Percentage of deaths ...................................... 16.375

CONFEDERATES Captured .................................................. 227,570 Died ......................................................

In the detailed statement prepared for Congress dated March 1, 1869, the whole number of deaths given as

shown by Prisoner of War records was twentysix thousand three hundred and twentyeight, but since that

date evidence of three thousand six hundred and twentyeight additional deaths has been obtained from the

captured Confederate records, making a total of twentynine thousand nine hundred and fiftysix as above

shown. This is believed to be many thousands less than the actual number of Federal prisoners who died in

Confederate prisons, as we have no records from those at Montgomery Ala., Mobile, Ala., Millen, Ga.,

Marietta, Ga., Atlanta, Ga., Charleston, S. C., and others. The records of Florence, S. C., and Salisbury, N. C.,

are very incomplete. It also appears from Confederate inspection reports of Confederate prisons, that large

percentage of the deaths occurred in prison quarter without the care or knowledge of the Surgeon. For the

month of December, 1864 alone, the Confederate "burial report"; Salisbury, N. C., show that out, of eleven

hundred and fifty deaths, two hundred and twentythree, or twenty per cent., died in prison quarters and are

not accounted for in the report of the Surgeon, and therefore not taken into consideration in the above report,

as the only records of said prisons on file (with one exception) are the Hospital records. Calculating the

percentage of deaths on this basis would give the number of deaths at thirtyseven thousand four hundred

If we assume that the Government's records of Florence as correct, it will be apparent that one man in every

three die there, since, while there might have been as high as fifty thousand at one time in the prison, during

the last three months of its existence I am quite sure that the number did not exceed seven thousand. This

would make the mortality much greater than at Andersonville, which it undoubtedly was, since the physical

condition of the prisoners confined there had been greatly depressed by their long confinement, while the

bulk c the prisoners at Andersonville were those who had been brought thither directly from the field. I think

also that all who experienced confinement in the two places are united in pronouncing Florence to be, on the

The medicines furnished the sick were quite simple in nature and mainly composed of indigenous substances.

For diarrhea red pepper and decoctions of blackberry root and of pine leave were given. For coughs and lung

diseases, a decoction of wild cherry bark was administered. Chills and fever were treated with decoctions of

dogwood bark, and fever patients who craved something sour, were given a weak acid drink, made by

fermenting a small quantity of meal in a barrel of water. All these remedies were quite good in their way, and

would have benefitted the patients had they been accompanied by proper shelter, food and clothing. But it

was idle to attempt to arrest with blackberry root the diarrhea, or with wild cherry bark the consumption of a

man lying in a cold, damp, mud hovel, devoured by vermin, and struggling to maintain life upon less than a

Finding that the doctors issued red pepper for diarrhea, and an imitation of sweet oil made from peanuts, for

the gangrenous sores above described, I reported to them an imaginary comrade in my tent, whose symptoms

indicated those remedies, and succeeded in drawing a small quantity of each, two or three times a week. The

red pepper I used to warm up our bread and mush, and give some different taste to the corn meal, which had

now become so loathsome to us. The peanut oil served to give a hint of the animal food we hungered for. It

was greasy, and as we did not have any meat for three months, even this flimsy substitute was inexpressibly

grateful to palate and stomach. But one morning the Hospital Steward made a mistake, and gave me castor oil

A more agreeable remembrance is that of two small apples, about the size of walnuts, given me by a boy

named Henry Clay Montague Porter, of the Sixteenth Connecticut. He had relatives living in North Carolina,

who sent him a small packs of eatables, out of which, in the fulness of his generous heart he gave me this

Speaking of eatables reminds me of an incident. Joe Darling, of the First Maine, our Chief of Police, had a

sister living at Augusta, Ga., who occasionally came to Florence with basket of food and other necessaries for

her brother. On one of these journeys, while sitting in Colonel Iverson's tent, waiting for her brother to be

brought out of prison, she picked out of her basket a nicely browned doughnut and handed it to the guard

The guarda lank, loosejointed Georgia crackerwho in all his life seen very little more inviting food than

the his hominy and molasses, upon which he had been raised, took the cake, turned it over and inspected it

curiously for some time without apparently getting the least idea of what it was for, and then handed it back

The Rebels continued their efforts to induce prisoners to enlist in their army, and with much better success

than at any previous time. Many men had become so desperate that they were reckless as to what they did.

Home, relatives, friends, happinessall they had remembered or looked forward to, all that had nerved them

up to endure the present and brave the futurenow seemed separated from them forever by a yawning and

impassable chasm. For many weeks no new prisoners had come in to rouse their drooping courage with news

of the progress of our arms towards final victory, or refresh their remembrances of home, and the

gladsomeness of "God's Country." Before them they saw nothing but weeks of slow and painful progress

Another class went out and joined, with no other intention than to escape at the first opportunity. They

justified their bad faith to the Rebels by recalling the numberless instances of the Rebels' bad faith to us, and

"No oath administered by a Rebel can have any binding obligation. These men are outlaws who have not only

broken their oaths to the Government, but who have deserted from its service, and turned its arms against it.

They are perjurers and traitors, and in addition, the oath they administer to us is under compulsion and for

Still another class, mostly made up from the old Raider crowd, enlisted from natural depravity. They went out

more than for anything else because their hearts were prone to evil and they did that which was wrong in

preference to what was right. By far the largest portion of those the Rebels obtained were of this class, and a

more worthless crowd of soldiers has not been seen since Falstaff mustered his famous recruits.

After all, however, the number who deserted their flag was astonishingly small, considering all the

circumstances. The official report says three hundred and twentysix, but I imaging this is under the truth,

since quite a number were turned back in after their utter uselessness had been demonstrated. I suppose that

five hundred "galvanized," as we termed it, but this was very few when the hopelessness of exchange, the

despair of life, and the wretchedness of the condition of the eleven or twelve thousand inside the Stockade is

The motives actuating men to desert were not closely analyzed by us, but we held all who did so as

despicable scoundrels, too vile to be adequately described in words. It was not safe for a man to announce his

intention of "galvanizing," for he incurred much danger of being beaten until he was physically unable to

reach the gate. Those who went over to the enemy had to use great discretion in letting the Rebel officer,

know so much of their wishes as would secure their being taker outside. Men were frequently knocked down

On one occasion one hundred or more of the raider crowd who had galvanized, were stopped for a few hours

in some little Town, on their way to the front. They lost no time in stealing everything they could lay their

hands upon, and the disgusted Rebel commander ordered them to be returned to the Stockade. They came in

in the evening, all well rigged out in Rebel uniforms, and carrying blankets. We chose to consider their good

clothes and equipments an aggravation of their offense and an insult to ourselves. We had at that time quite a

squad of negro soldiers inside with us. Among them was a gigantic fellow with a fist like a wooden beetle.

Some of the white boys resolved to use these to wreak the camp's displeasure on the Galvanized. The plan

was carried out capitally. The big darky, followed by a crowd of smaller and nimbler "shades," would

At that instant the bony fist of the darky, descending like a pile driver, would catch the recreant under the

ear, and lift him about a rod. As he fell, the smaller darkies would pounce upon him, and in an instant despoil

him of his blanket and perhaps the larger portion of his warm clothing. The operation was repeated with a

dozen or more. The whole camp enjoyed it as rare fun, and it was the only time that I saw nearly every body

A few prisoners were brought in in December, who had been taken in Foster's attempt to cut the Charleston

Savannah Railroad at Pocataligo. Among them we were astonished to find Charley Hirsch, a member of

Company I's of our battalion. He had had a strange experience. He was originally a member of a Texas

regiment and was captured at Arkansas Post. He then took the oath of allegiance and enlisted with us. While

we were at Savannah he approached a guard one day to trade for tobacco. The moment he spoke to the man

he recognized him as a former comrade in the Texas regiment. The latter knew him also, and sang out,

Charley backed into the crowd as quickly as possible; to elude the fellow's eyes, but the latter called for the

Corporal of the Guard, had himself relieved, and in a few minutes came in with an officer in search of the

deserter. He found him with little difficulty, and took him out. The luckless Charley was tried by court

martial, found, guilty, sentenced to be shot, and while waiting execution was confined in the jail. Before the

sentence could be carried into effect Sherman came so close to the City that it was thought best to remove the

prisoners. In the confusion Charley managed to make his escape, and at the moment the battle of Pocataligo

opened, was lying concealed between the two lines of battle, without knowing, of course, that he was in such

a dangerous locality. After the firing opened, he thought it better to lie still than run the risk from the fire of

both sides, especially as he momentarily expected our folks to advance and drive the Rebels away. But the

reverse happened; the Johnnies drove our fellows, and, finding Charley in his place of concealment, took him

for one of Foster's men, and sent him to Florence, where he staid until we went through to our lines.

Our days went by as stupidly and eventless as can be conceived. We had grown too spiritless and lethargic to

dig tunnels or plan escapes. We had nothing to read, nothing to make or destroy, nothing to work with,

nothing to play with, and even no desire to contrive anything for amusement. All the cards in the prison were

worn out long ago. Some of the boys had made dominos from bones, and Andrews and I still had our

chessmen, but we were too listless to play. The mind, enfeebled by the long disuse of it except in a few

limited channels, was unfitted for even so much effort as was involved in a game for pastime.

Nor were there any physical exercises, such as that crowd of young men would have delighted in under other

circumstances. There was no running, boxing, jumping, wrestling, leaping, etc. All were too weak and hungry

to make any exertion beyond that absolutely necessary. On cold days everybody seemed totally benumbed.

The camp would be silent and still. Little groups everywhere hovered for hours, moody and sullen, over

diminutive, flickering fires, made with one poor handful of splinters. When the sun shone, more activity was

visible. Boys wandered around, hunted up their friends, and saw what gaps deathalways busiest during the

cold spellshad made in the ranks of their acquaintances. During the warmest part of the day everybody

disrobed, and spent an hour or more killing the lice that had waxed and multiplied to grievous proportions

Besides the whipping of the Galvanized by the darkies, I remember but two other bits of amusement we had

while at Florence. One of these was in hearing the colored soldiers sing patriotic songs, which they did with

great gusto when the weather became mild. The other was the antics of a circus clowna member, I believe,

of a Connecticut or a New York regiment, who, on the rare occasions when we were feeling not exactly well

so much as simply better than we had been, would give us an hour or two of recitations of the drolleries with

which he was wont to set the crowded canvas in a roar. One of his happiest efforts, I remember, was a stilted

paraphrase of "Old Uncle Ned" a song very popular a quarter of a century ago, and which ran something like

There was an old darky, an' his name was Uncle Ned, But he died long ago, long ago He had no wool on de

CHORUS Den lay down de shubel an' de hoe, Den hang up de fiddle an' de bow; For dere's no more hard

His fingers war long, like de cane in de brake, And his eyes war too dim for to see; He had no teeth to eat de

His legs were so bowed dat he couldn't lie still. An' he had no nails on his toes;

His neck was so crooked dot he couldn't take a pill, So he had to take a pill through his nose.

One cold frosty morning old Uncle Ned died, An' de tears ran down massa's cheek like rain, For he knew

There was an aged and indigent African whose cognomen was Uncle Edward, But he is deceased since a

remote period, a very remote period; He possessed no capillary substance on the summit of his cranium, The

CHORUS. Then let the agricultural implements rest recumbent upon the ground; And suspend the musical

instruments in peace neon the wall, For there's no more physical energy to be displayed by our Indigent

Uncle Edward He has departed to that place set apart by a beneficent Providence for the reception of the

And so on. These rare flashes of fun only served to throw the underlying misery out in greater relief. It was

I have before alluded several times to the general inability of Rebels to count accurately, even in low

numbers. One continually met phases of this that seemed simply incomprehensible to us, who had taken in

the multiplication table almost with our mother's milk, and knew the Rule of Three as well as a Presbyterian

boy does the Shorter Catechism. A cadetan undergraduate of the South Carolina Military Institute called

our roll at Florence, and though an inborn young aristocrat, who believed himself made of finer clay than

most mortals, he was not a bad fellow at all. He thought South Carolina aristocracy the finest gentry, and the

South Carolina Military Institute the greatest institution of learning 1n the world; but that is common with all

One day he came in so full of some matter of rare importance that we became somewhat excited as to its

"Now you fellers are all so dd peart on mathematics, and such things, that you want to snap me up on

every opportunity, but I guess I've got something this time that'll settle you. Its something that a fellow gave

out yesterday, and Colonel Iverson, and all the officers out there have been figuring on it ever since, and none

have got the right answer, and I'm powerful sure that none of you, smart as you think you are, can do it."

"Well," said he, "what is the length of a pole standing in a river, one fifth of which is in the mud, twothirds

in the water, and oneeighth above the water, while one foot and three inches of the top is broken off?"

The cadet could only look his amazement at the possession of such an amount of learning by a crowd of

"Why, if you South Carolina Institute fellows couldn't answer such questions as that they wouldn't allow you

Lieutenant Barrett, our redheaded tormentor, could not, for the life of him, count those inside in hundreds

and thousands in such a manner as to be reasonably certain of correctness. As it would have cankered his soul

to feel that he was being beaten out of a halfdozen rations by the superior cunning of the Yankees, he

adopted a plan which he must have learned at some period of his life when he was a hog or sheep drover.

Every Sunday morning all in the camp were driven across the Creek to the East Side, and then made to file

slowly backone at a timebetween two guards stationed on the little bridge that spanned the Creek. By

this means, if he was able to count up to one hundred, he could get our number correctly.

The first time this was done after our arrival he gave us a display of his wanton malevolence. We were nearly

all assembled on the East Side, and were standing in ranks, at the edge of the swamp, facing the west. Barrett

was walking along the opposite edge of the swamp, and, coming to a little gully jumped, it. He was very

awkward, and came near falling into the mud. We all yelled derisively. He turned toward us in a fury, shook

his fist, and shouted curses and imprecations. We yelled still louder. He snatched out his revolver, and began

firing at our line. The distance was considerablesay four or five hundred feetand the bullets struck in the

mud in advance of the line. We still yelled. Then he jerked a gun from a guard and fired, but his aim was still

bad, and the bullet sang over our heads, striking in the bank above us. He posted of to get another gun, but his

Christmas, with its swelling flood of happy memories,memories now bitter because they marked the high

tide whence our fortunes had receded to this despicable statecame, but brought no change to mark its

coming. It is true that we had expected no change; we had not looked forward to the day, and hardly knew

When reminded that the day was one that in all Christendom was sacred to good cheer and joyful meetings;

that wherever the upraised cross proclaimed followers of Him who preached "Peace on Earth and good will

to men," parents and children, brothers and sisters, longtime friends, and all congenial spirits were gathering

around hospitable boards to delight in each other's society, and strengthen the bonds of unity between them,

we listened as to a tale told of some foreign land from which we had parted forever more.

It seemed years since we had known anything of the kind. The experience we had had of it belonged to the

dim and irrevocable past. It could not come to us again, nor we go to it. Squalor, hunger, cold and wasting

disease had become the ordinary conditions of existence, from which there was little hope that we would ever

Perhaps it was well, to a certain degree, that we felt so. It softened the poignancy of our reflections over the

difference in the condition of ourselves and our happier comrades who were elsewhere.

The weather was in harmony with our feelings. The dull, gray, leaden sky was as sharp a contrast with the

crisp, bracing sharpness of a Northern Christmas morning, as our beggarly little ration of saltless corn meal

We turned out languidly in the morning to rollcall, endured silently the raving abuse of the cowardly brute

Barrett, hung stupidly over the flickering little fires, until the gates opened to admit the rations. For an hour

there was bustle and animation. All stood around and counted each sack of meal, to get an idea of the rations

This was a daily custom. The number intended for the day's issue were all brought in and piled up in the

street. Then there was a division of the sacks to the thousands, the Sergeant of each being called up in turn,

and allowed to pick out and carry away one, until all were taken. When we entered the prison each thousand

received, on an average, ten or eleven sacks a day. Every week saw a reduction in the number, until by

midwinter the daily issue to a thousand averaged four sacks. Let us say that one of these sacks held two

bushels, or the four, eight bushels. As there are thirtytwo quarts in a bushel, one thousand men received two

We thought we had sounded the depths of misery at Andersonville, but Florence showed us a much lower

depth. Bad as was parching under the burning sun whose fiery rays bred miasma and putrefaction, it was still

not so bad as having one's life chilled out by exposure in nakedness upon the frozen ground to biting winds

and freezing sleet. Wretched as the rusty bacon and coarse, maggotfilled bread of Andersonville was, it

would still go much farther towards supporting life than the handful of saltless meal at Florence.

While I believe it possible for any young man, with the forces of life strong within him, and healthy in every

way, to survive, by taking due precautions, such treatment as we received in Andersonville, I cannot

understand how anybody could live through a month of Florence. That many did live is only an astonishing

Let the reader imagineanywhere he likesa fifteenacre field, with a stream running through the center.

Let him imagine this inclosed by a Stockade eighteen feet high, made by standing logs on end. Let him

conceive of ten thousand feeble men, debilitated by months of imprisonment, turned inside this inclosure,

without a yard of covering given them, and told to make their homes there. One quarter of themtwo

thousand five hundredpick up brush, pieces of rail, splits from logs, etc., sufficient to make huts that will

turn the rain tolerably. The huts are in no case as good shelter as an ordinarily careful farmer provides for his

swine. Half of the prisonersfive thousandwho cannot do so well, work the mud up into rude bricks, with

which they build shelters that wash down at every hard rain. The remaining two thousand five hundred do not

do even this, but lie around on the ground, on old blankets and overcoats, and in daytime prop these up on

sticks, as shelter from the rain and wind. Let them be given not to exceed a pint of corn meal a day, and a

piece of wood about the size of an ordinary stick for a cooking stove to cook it with. Then let such weather

prevail as we ordinarily have in the North in Novemberfreezing cold rains, with frequent days and nights

when the ice forms as thick as a pane of glass. How long does he think men could live through that? He will

probably say that a week, or at most a fortnight, would see the last and strongest of these ten thousand lying

dead in the frozen mire where he wallowed. He will be astonished to learn that probably not more than four

or five thousand of those who underwent this in Florence died there. How many died after releasein

Washington, on the vessels coming to Annapolis, in hospital and camp at Annapolis, or after they reached

home, none but the Recording Angel can tell. All that I know is we left a trail of dead behind us, wherever we

Looking back, after these lapse of years, the most salient characteristic seems to be the ease with which men

died. There, was little of the violence of dissolution so common at Andersonville. The machinery of life in all

of us, was running slowly and feebly; it would simply grow still slower and feebler in some, and then stop

without a jar, without a sensation to manifest it. Nightly one of two or three comrades sleeping together

would die. The survivors would not know it until they tried to get him to "spoon" over, when they would find

him rigid and motionless. As they could not spare even so little heat as was still contained in his body, they

would not remove this, but lie up the closer to it until morning. Such a thing as a boy making an outcry when

he discovered his comrade dead, or manifesting any, desire to get away from the corpse, was unknown.

I remember one who, as Charles II. said of himself, was "an unconscionable long time in dying." His name

was Bickford; he belonged to the TwentyFirst Ohio Volunteer Infantry, lived, I think, near Findlay, O., and

was in my hundred. His partner and he were both in a very bad condition, and I was not surprised, on making

my rounds, one morning, to find them apparently quite dead. I called help, and took his partner away to the

gate. When we picked up Bickford we found he still lived, and had strength enough to gasp out:

"You fellers had better let me alone." We laid him back to die, as we supposed, in an hour or so.

When the Rebel Surgeon came in on his rounds, I showed him Bickford, lying there with his eyes closed, and

I replied: " No, he isn't. Just see." Stooping, I shook the boy sharply, and said:

The eyes did not unclose, but the lips opened slowly, and said with a painful effort:

This scene was repeated every morning for over a week. Every day the Rebel Surgeon would insist that the

man should betaken out, and every morning Bickford would gasp out with troublesome exertion that he felt:

It ended one morning by his inability, to make his usual answer, and then he was carried out to join the two

On New Year's Day we were startled by the information that our oldtime enemyGeneral John H.

Winderwas dead. It seemed that the Rebel Sutler of the Post had prepared in his tent a grand New Year's

dinner to which all the officers were invited. Just as Winder bent his head to enter the tent he fell, and expired

shortly after. The boys said it was a clear case of Death by Visitation of the Devil, and it was always insisted

"My faith is in Christ; I expect to be saved. Be sure and cut down the prisoners' rations."

Thus passed away the chief evil genius of the PrisonersofWar. American history has no other character

approaching his in vileness. I doubt if the history of the world can show another man, so insignificant in

abilities and position, at whose door can be laid such a terrible load of human misery. There have been many

but they were great men, with great objects, with grand plans to carry out, whose benefits they thought would

be more than an equivalent for the suffering they caused. The misery they inflicted was not the motive of

their schemes, but an unpleasant incident, and usually the sufferers were men of other races and religions, for

But Winder was an obscure, dull old manthe commonplace descendant of a pseudoaristocrat whose

cowardly incompetence had once cost us the loss of our National Capital. More prudent than his runaway

father, he held himself aloof from the field; his father had lost reputation and almost his commission, by

coming into contact with the enemy; he would take no such foolish risks, and he did not. When false

expectations of the ultimate triumph of Secession led him to cast his lot with the Southern Confederacy, he

did not solicit a command in the field, but took up his quarters in Richmond, to become a sort of

InformerGeneral, High Inquisitor and Chief Eavesdropper for his intimate friend, Jefferson Davis. He

pried and spied around into every man's bedroom and family circle, to discover traces of Union sentiment.

The wildest tales malice and vindictiveness could concoct found welcome reception in his ears. He was only

too willing to believe, that he might find excuse for harrying and persecuting. He arrested, insulted,

imprisoned, banished, and shot people, until the patience even of the citizens of Richmond gave way, and

pressure was brought upon Jefferson Davis to secure the suppression of his satellite. For a long while Davis

resisted, but at last yielded, and transferred Winder to the office of Commissary General of Prisoners. The

delight of the Richmond people was great. One of the papers expressed it in an article, the key note of which

"Thank God that Richmond is at last rid of old Winder. God have mercy upon those to whom he has been

Remorseless and cruel as his conduct of the office of Provost Marshal General was, it gave little hint of the

extent to which he would go in that of Commissary General of Prisoners. Before, he was restrained somewhat

by public opinion and the laws of the land. These no longer deterred him. From the time he assumed

command of all the Prisons east of the Mississippisome time in the Fall of 1863until death removed

him, January 1, 1865certainly not less than twentyfive thousand incarcerated men died in the most

horrible manner that the mind can conceive. He cannot be accused of exaggeration, when, surveying the

thousands of new graves at Andersonville, he could say with a quiet chuckle that he was "doing more to kill

off the Yankees than twenty regiments at the front." No twenty regiments in the Rebel Army ever succeeded

in slaying anything like thirteen thousand Yankees in six months, or any other time. His cold blooded cruelty

was such as to disgust even the Rebel officers. Colonel D. T. Chandler, of the Rebel War Department, sent on

a tour of inspection to Andersonville, reported back, under date of August 5, 1864:

"My duty requires me respectfully to recommend a change in the officer in command of the post, Brigadier

General John H. Winder, and the substitution in his place of some one who unites both energy and good

judgment with some feelings of humanity and consideration for the welfare and comfort, as far as is

consistent with their safe keeping, of the vast number of unfortunates placed under his control; some one

who, at least, will not advocate deliberately, and in cold blood, the propriety of leaving them in their present

condition until their number is sufficiently reduced by death to make the present arrangements suffice for

their accommodation, and who will not consider it a matter of self laudation and boasting that he has never

been inside of the Stockadea place the horrors of which it is difficult to describe, and which is a disgrace to

civilizationthe condition of which he might, by the exercise of a little energy and judgment, even with the

"I noticed that General Winder seemed very indifferent to the welfare of the prisoners, indisposed to do

anything, or to do as much as I thought he ought to do, to alleviate their sufferings. I remonstrated with him

as well as I could, and he used that language which I reported to the Department with reference to itthe

language stated in the report. When I spoke of the great mortality existing among the prisoners, and pointed

out to him that the sickly season was coming on, and that it must necessarily increase unless something was

done for their reliefthe swamp, for instance, drained, proper food furnished, and in better quantity, and

other sanitary suggestions which I made to himhe replied to me that he thought it was better to see half of

It was he who could issue such an order as this, when it was supposed that General Stoneman was

HEADQUARTERS MILITARY PRISON, ANDERSONVILLE, Ga., July 27,1864. The officers on duty and

in charge of the Battery of Florida Artillery at the time will, upon receiving notice that the enemy has

approached within seven miles of this post, open upon the Stockade with grapeshot, without reference to the

This man was not only unpunished, but the Government is today supporting his children in luxury by the

rent it pays for the use of his property the wellknown Winder building, which is occupied by one of the

I confess that all my attempts to satisfactorily analyze Winder's character and discover a sufficient motive for

his monstrous conduct have been futile. Even if we imagine him inspired by a hatred of the people of the

North that rose to fiendishness, we can not understand him. It seems impossible for the mind of any man to

cherish so deep and insatiable an enmity against his fellowcreatures that it could not be quenched and turned

to pity by the sight of even one day's misery at Andersonville or Florence. No one man could possess such a

grievous sense of private or national wrongs as to be proof against the daily spectacle of thousands of his own

fellow citizens, inhabitants of the same country, associates in the same institutions, educated in the same

principles, speaking the same languagethousands of his brethren in race, creed, and all that unite men into

There is many a man who has a hatred so intense that nothing but the death of the detested one will satisfy it.

A still fewer number thirst for a more comprehensive retribution; they would slay perhaps a half dozen

persons; and there may be such gluttons of revenge as would not be satisfied with the sacrifice of less than a

score or two, but such would be monsters of whom there have been very few, even in fiction. How must they

all bow their diminished heads before a man who fed his animosity fat with tens of thousands of lives.

But, what also militates greatly against the presumption that either revenge or an abnormal predisposition to

cruelty could have animated Winder, is that the possession of any two such mental traits so strongly marked

would presuppose a corresponding activity of other intellectual faculties, which was not true of him, as from

It does not seem possible that he had either the brain to conceive, or the firmness of purpose to carry out so

gigantic and longenduring a career of cruelty, because that would imply superhuman qualities in a man who

The probability is that neither Winder nor his direct superiorsHowell Cobb and Jefferson

Davisconceived in all its proportions the gigantic engine of torture and death they were organizing; nor did

they comprehend the enormity of the crime they were committing. But they were willing to do much wrong

to gain their end; and the smaller crimes of today prepared them for greater ones tomorrow, and still

greater ones the day following. Killing ten men a day on Belle Isle in January, by starvation and hardship, led

very easily to killing one hundred men a day in Andersonville, in July, August and September. Probably at

the beginning of the war they would have felt uneasy at slaying one man per day by such means, but as

retribution came not, and as their appetite for slaughter grew with feeding, and as their sympathy with human

misery atrophied from long suppression, they ventured upon ever widening ranges of destructiveness. Had

the war lasted another year, and they lived, five hundred deaths a day would doubtless have been insufficient

Winder doubtless went about his part of the task of slaughter coolly, leisurely, almost perfunctorily. His

training in the Regular Army was against the likelihood of his displaying zeal in anything. He instituted

certain measures, and let things take their course. That course was a rapid transition from bad to worse, but it

was still in the direction of his wishes, and, what little of his own energy was infused into it was in the

direction of impetus,not of controlling or improving the course. To have done things better would have

involved soma personal discomfort. He was not likely to incur personal discomfort to mitigate evils that were

only afflicting someone else. By an effort of one hour a day for two weeks he could have had every man in

Andersonville and Florence given good shelter through his own exertions. He was not only too indifferent

and too lazy to do this, but he was too malignant; and this neglect to allowsimply allow, rememberthe

prisoners to protect their lives by providing their own shelter, gives the key to his whole disposition, and

would stamp his memory with infamy, even if there were no other charges against him.

While I was at Savannah I got hold of a primary geography in possession of one of the prisoners, and

securing a fragment of a lead pencil from one comrade, and a sheet of note paper from another, I made a copy

of the South Carolina and Georgia sea coast, for the use of Andrews and myself in attempting to escape. The

reader remembers the ill success of all our efforts in that direction. When we were at Blackshear we still had

the map, and intended to make another effort," as soon as the sign got right." One day while we were waiting

for this, Walter Hartsough, a Sergeant of Company g, of our battalion, came to me and said:

I handed it over to him, and never saw him more, as almost immediately after we were taken out "on parole"

and sent to Florence. I heard from other comrades of the battalion that he had succeeded in getting past the

guard line and into the Woods, which was the last they ever heard of him. Whether starved to death in some

swamp, whether torn to pieces by dogs, or killed by the rifles of his pursuers, they knew not. The reader can

judge of my astonishment as well as pleasure, at receiving among the dozens of letters which came to me

every day while this account was appearing in the BLADE, one signed "Walter Hartsough, late of Co. K,

Sixteenth Illinois Cavalry." It was like one returned from the grave, and the next mail took a letter to him,

inquiring eagerly of his adventures after we separated. I take pleasure in presenting the reader with his reply,

which was only intended as a private communication to myself. The first part of the letter I omit, as it

contains only gossip about our old comrades, which, however interesting to myself, would hardly be so to the

Dear Comrade Mc.: ..................... I have been living in this town for ten years, running a general store, under

the firm name of Hartsough Martin, and have been more successful than I anticipated.

I made my escape from Thomasville, Ga., Dec. 7, 1864, by running the guards, in company with Frank

Hommat, of Company M, and a man by the name of Clipson, of the TwentyFirst Illinois Infantry. I had

heard the officers in charge of us say that they intended to march us across to the other road, and take us back

to Andersonville. We concluded we would take a heavy risk on our lives rather than return there. By stinting

ourselves we had got a little meal ahead, which we thought we would bake up for the journey, but our

appetites got the better of us, and we ate it all up before starting. We were camped in the woods then, with no

Stockadeonly a line of guards around us. We thought that by a little strategy and boldness we could pass

these. We determined to try. Clipson was to go to the right, Hommat in the center, and myself to the left. We

all slipped through, without a shot. Our rendezvous was to be the center of a small swamp, through which

flowed a small stream that supplied the prisoners with water. Hommat and I got together soon after passing

the guard lines, and we began signaling for Clipson. We laid down by a large log that lay across the stream,

and submerged our limbs and part of our bodies in the water, the better to screen ourselves from observation.

Pretty soon a Johnny came along with a bunch of turnip tops, that he was taking up to the camp to trade to the

prisoners. As he passed over the log I could have caught him by the leg, which I intended to do if he saw us,

but he passed along, heedless of those concealed under his very feet, which saved him a ducking at least, for

we were resolved to drown him if he discovered us. Waiting here a little longer we left our lurking place and

made a circuit of the edge of the swamp, still signaling for Clipson. But we could find nothing of him, and at

We were now between Thomasville and the camp, and as Thomasville was the end of the railroad, the woods

were full of Rebels waiting transportation, and we approached the road carefully, supposing that it was

guarded to keep their own men from going to town. We crawled up to the road, but seeing no one, started

across it. At that moment a guard about thirty yards to our left, who evidently supposed that we were Rebels,

Frank whispered me to run, but I said, "No; wait till he halts us, and then run." He walked up to where we had

crossed his beatlooked after us a few minutes, and then, to our great relief, walked back to his post. After

much trouble we succeeded in getting through all the troops, and started fairly on our way. We tried to shape

our course toward Florida. The country was very swampy, the night rainy and dark, no stars were out to guide

us, and we made such poor progress that when daylight came we were only eight miles from our starting

place, and close to a road leading from Thomasville to Monticello. Finding a large turnip patch, we filled our

pockets, and then hunted a place to lie concealed in during the day. We selected a thicket in the center of a

large pasture. We crawled into this and laid down. Some negros passed close to us, going to their work in an

adjoining field. They had a bucket of victuals with them for dinner, which they hung on the fence in such a

way that we could have easily stolen it without detection. The temptation to hungry men was very great, but

As the negros returned from work in the evening they separated, one old man passing on the opposite side of

the thicket from the rest. We halted him and told him that we were Rebs, who had taken a French leave of

Thomasville; that we were tired of guarding Yanks, and were going home; and further, that we were hungry,

and wanted something to eat. He told us that he was the boss on the plantation. His master lived in

Thomasville. He, himself, did not have much to eat, but he would show us where to stay, and when the folks

went to bed he would bring us some food. Passing up close to the negro quarters we got over the fence and

We had been there but a short time when a young negro came out, and passing close by us, went into a fence

corner a few panels distant and, kneeling down, began praying aloud, and very, earnestly, and stranger still,

the burden of his supplication was for the success of our armies. I thought it the best prayer I ever listened to.

Finishing his devotions he returned to the house, and shortly after the old man came with a good supper of

corn bread, molasses and milk. He said that he had no meat, and that he had done the best he could for us.

After we had eaten, he said that as the young people had gone to bed, we had better come into his cabin and

Hommat had a full suit of Rebel clothes, and I had stolen sacks enough at Andersonville, when they were

issuing rations, to make me a shirt and pantaloons, which a sailor fabricated for me. I wore these over what

was left of my blue clothes. The old negro lady treated us very coolly. In a few minutes a young negro came

in, whom the old gentleman introduced as his son, and whom I immediately recognized as our friend of the

prayerful proclivities. He said that he had been a body servant to his young master, who was an officer in the

"Golly!" says he, "if you 'uns had stood a little longer at Stone River, our men would have run."

I turned to him sharply with the question of what he meant by calling us "You 'uns," and asked him if he

believed we were Yankees. He surveyed us carefully for a few seconds, and then said:

I asked him how he knew it, and he said that we neither looked nor talked like their men. I then

acknowledged that we were Yankee prisoners, trying to make our escape to our lines. This announcement put

new life into the old lady, and, after satisfying herself that we were really Yankees, she got up from her seat,

shook hands with us, and declared we must have a better supper than we had had. She set immediately about

preparing it for us. Taking up a plank in the floor, she pulled out a nice flitch of bacon, from which she cut as

much as we could eat, and gave us some to carry with us. She got up a real substantial supper, to which we

They gave us a quantity of victuals to take with us, and instructed us as well as possible as to our road. They

warned us to keep away from the young negros, but trust the old ones implicitly. Thanking them over and

over for their exceeding kindness, we bade them goodby, and started again on our journey. Our supplies

lasted two days, during which time we made good progress, keeping away from the roads, and flanking the

towns, which were few and insignificant. We occasionally came across negros, of whom we cautiously

inquired as to the route and towns, and by the assistance of our map and the stars, got along very well indeed,

until we came to the Suwanee River. We had intended to cross this at Columbus or Alligator. When within

six miles of the river we stopped at some negro huts to get some food. The lady who owned the negros was a

widow, who was born and raised in Massachusetts. Her husband had died before the war began. An old negro

woman told her mistress that we were at the quarters, and she sent for us to come to the house. She was a

very nice looking lady, about thirtyfive years of age, and treated us with great kindness. Hommat being

barefooted, she pulled off her own shoes and stockings and gave them to him, saying that she would go to

Town the next day and get herself another pair. She told us not to try to cross the river near Columbus, as

their troops had been deserting in great numbers, and the river was closely picketed to catch the runaways.

She gave us directions how to go so as to cross the river about fifty miles below Columbus. We struck the

river again the next night, and I wanted to swim it, but Hommat was afraid of alligators, and I could not

We traveled down the river until we came to Moseley's Ferry, where we stole an old boat about a third full of

water, and paddled across. There was quite a little town at that place, but we walked right down the main

street without meeting any one. Six miles from the river we saw an old negro woman roasting sweet potatos

in the back yard of a house. We were very hungry, and thought we would risk something to get food.

Hommat went around near her, and asked her for something to eat. She told him to go and ask the white

folks. This was the answer she made to every question. He wound up by asking her how far it was to

Mossley's Ferry, saying that he wanted to go there, and get something to eat. She at last ran into the house,

and we ran away as fast as we could. We had gone but a short distance when we heard a horn, and

soonthecursed hounds began bellowing. We did our best running, but the hounds circled around the house

a few times and then took our trail. For a little while it seemed all up with us, as the sound of the baying came

closer and closer. But our inquiry about the distance to Moseley's Ferry seems to have saved us. They soon

called the hounds in, and started them on the track we had come, instead of that upon which we were going.

The baying shortly died away in the distance. We did not waste any time congratulating ourselves over our

marvelous escape, but paced on as fast as we could for about eight miles farther. On the way we passed over

Coming near to Lake City we fell in with some negros who had been brought from Maryland. We stopped

over one day with them, to rest, and two of them concluded to go with us. We were furnished with a lot of

cooked provisions, and starting one night made fortytwo miles before morning. We kept the negros in

advance. I told Hommat that it was a poor command that could not afford an advance guard. After traveling

two nights with the, negros, we came near Baldwin. Here I was very much afraid of recapture, and I did not

want the negros with us, if we were, lest we should be shot for slavestealing. About daylight of the second

We had to skirt Baldwin closely, to head the St. Mary's River, or cross it where that was easiest. After

crossing the river we came to a very large swamp, in the edge of which we lay all day. Before nightfall we

started to go through it, as there was no fear of detection in these swamps. We got through before it was very

dark, and as we emerged from it we discovered a dense cloud of smoke to our right and quite close. We

decided this was a camp, and while we were talking the band began to play. This made us think that probably

our forces had come out from Fernandina, and taken the place. I proposed to Hommat that we go forward and

reconnoiter. He refused, and leaving him alone, I started forward. I had gone but a short distance when a

soldier came out from the camp with a bucket. He began singing, and the song he sang convinced me that he

was a Rebel. Rejoining Hommat, we held a consultation and decided to stay where we were until it became

darker, before trying to get out. It was the night of the 22d of December, and very cold for that country. The

camp guard had small fires built, which we could see quite plainly. After starting we saw that the pickets also

had fires, and that we were between the two lines. This discovery saved us from capture, and keeping about

We first crossed a line of breastworks, then in succession the Fernandina Railroad, the Jacksonville Railroad,

and pike, moving all the time nearly parallel with the picket line. Here we had to halt. Hommat was suffering

greatly with his feet. The shoes that had been given him by the widow lady were worn out, and his feet were

much torn and cut by the terribly rough road we had traveled through swamps, etc. We sat down on a log, and

I, pulling off the remains of my army shirt, tore it into pieces, and Hommat wrapped his feet up in them. A

part I reserved and tore into strips, to tie up the rents in our pantaloons. Going through the swamps and briers

had torn them into tatters, from waistband to hem, leaving our skins bare to be served in the same way.

We started again, moving slowly and bearing towards the picket fires, which we could see for a distance on

our left. After traveling some little time the lights on our left ended, which puzzled us for a while, until we

came to a fearful big swamp, that explained it all, as this, considered impassable, protected the right of the

camp. We had an awful time in getting through. In many places we had to lie down and crawl long distances

through the paths made in the brakes by hogs and other animals. As we at length came out, Hommat turned to

me and whispered that in the morning we would have some Lincoln coffee. He seemed to think this must

We were now between the Jacksonville Railroad and the St. John's River. We kept about four miles from the

railroad, for fear of running into the Rebel outposts. We had traveled but a few miles when Hommat said he

could go no farther, as his feet and legs were so swelled and numb that he could not tell when he set them

upon the ground. I had some matches that a negro had given me, and gathering together a few pine knots we

made a firethe first that we had lighted on the tripand laid down with it between us. We had slept but a

few minutes when I awoke and found Hommat's clothes on fire. Rousing him we put out the flames before he

was badly burned, but the thing had excited him so as to give him new life, and be proposed to start on again.

By sunrise we were within eight miles of our lines, and concluding that it would be safe to travel in the

daytime, we went ahead, walking along the railroad. The excitement being over, Hommat began to move

very slowly again. His feet and legs were so swollen that he could scarcely walk, and it took us a long while

At last we came in sight of our pickets. They were negros. They halted us, and Hommat went forward to

speak to them. They called for the Officer of the Guard, who came, passed us inside, and shook hands

cordially with us. His first inquiry was if we knew Charley Marseilles, whom you remember ran that little

We were treated very kindly at Jacksonville. General Scammon was in command of the post, and had only

been released but a short time from prison, so he knew how it was himself. I never expect to enjoy as happy a

moment on earth as I did when I again got under the protection of the old flag. Hommat went to the hospital a

Oh, it was a fearful trip through those Florida swamps. We would very often have to try a swamp in three or

four different places before we could get through. Some nights we could not travel on account of its being

cloudy and raining. There is not money enough in the United States to induce me to undertake the trip again

under the same circumstances. Our friend Clipson, that made his escape when we did, got very nearly

through to our lines, but was taken sick, and had to give himself up. He was taken back to Andersonville and

kept until the next Spring, when he came through all right. There were sixtyone of Company K captured at

Jonesville, and I think there was only seventeen lived through those horrible prisons.

You have given the best description of prison life that I have ever seen written. The only trouble is that it

cannot be portrayed so that persons can realize the suffering and abuse that our soldiers endured in those

prison hells. Your statements are all correct in regard to the treatment that we received, and all those scenes

you have depicted are as vivid in my mind today as if they had only occurred yesterday. Please let me hear

from you again. Wishing you success in all your undertakings, I remain your friend,

One terrible phase of existence at Florence was the vast increase of insanity. We had many insane men at

Andersonville, but the type of the derangement was different, partaking more of what the doctors term

melancholia. Prisoners coming in from the front were struck aghast by the horrors they saw everywhere. Men

dying of painful and repulsive diseases lined every step of whatever path they trod; the rations given them

were repugnant to taste and stomach; shelter from the fiery sun there was none, and scarcely room enough for

them to lie down upon. Under these discouraging circumstances, homeloving, kindlyhearted men,

especially those who had passed out of the first flush of youth, and had left wife and children behind when

they entered the service, were speedily overcome with despair of surviving until released; their hopelessness

fed on the same germs which gave it birth, until it became senseless, vacanteyed, unreasoning, incurable

melancholy, when the victim would lie for hours, without speaking a word, except to babble of home, or

would wander aimlessly about the campfrequently stark naked until he died or was shot for coming too

near the Dead Line. Soldiers must not suppose that this was the same class of weaklings who usually pine

themselves into the Hospital within three months after their regiment enters the field. They were as a rule,

made up of seasoned soldiery, who had become inured to the dangers and hardships of active service, and

The insane of Florence were of a different class; they were the boys who had laughed at such a yielding to

adversity in Andersonville, and felt a lofty pity for the misfortunes of those who succumbed so. But now the

long strain of hardship, privation and exposure had done for them what discouragement had done for those of

less fortitude in Andersonville. The faculties shrank under disuse and misfortune, until they forgot their

regiments, companies, places and date of capture, and finally, even their names. I should think that by the

middle of January, at least one in every ten had sunk to this imbecile condition. It was not insanity so much

as mental atrophynot so much aberration of the mind, as a paralysis of mental action. The sufferers became

apathetic idiots, with no desire or wish to do or be anything. If they walked around at all they had to be

watched closely, to prevent their straying over the Dead Line, and giving the young brats of guards the

coveted opportunity of killing them. Very many of such were killed, and one of my Midwinter memories of

Florence was that of seeing one of these unfortunate imbeciles wandering witlessly up to the Dead Line from

the Swamp, while the guarda boy of seventeenstood with gun in hand, in the attitude of a man expecting

a covey to be flushed, waiting for the poor devil to come so near the Dead Line as to afford an excuse for

killing him. Two sane prisoners, comprehending the situation, rushed up to the lunatic, at the risk of their

The brutal Barrett seemed to delight in maltreating these demented unfortunates. He either could not be made

to understand their condition, or willfully disregarded it, for it was one of the commonest sights to see him

knock down, beat, kick or otherwise abuse them for not instantly obeying orders which their dazed senses

In my life I have seen many wantonly cruel men. I have known numbers of mates of Mississippi river

steamersa class which seems carefully selected from ruffians most proficient in profanity, obscenity and

swift handed violence; I have seen negrodrivers in the slave marts of St. Louis, Memphis and New

Orleans, and overseers on the plantations of Mississippi and Louisiana; as a police reporter in one of the

largest cities in America, I have come in contact with thousands of the brutalized scoundrelsthe thugs of

the brothel, barroom and alleywho form the dangerous classes of a metropolis. I knew Captain Wirz. But

in all this exceptionally extensive and varied experience, I never met a man who seemed to love cruelty for its

own sake as well as Lieutenant Barrett. He took such pleasure in inflicting pain as those Indians who slice off

their prisoners' eyelids, ears, noses and hands, before burning them at the stake.

That a thing hurt some one else was always ample reason for his doing it. The starving, freezing prisoners

used to collect in considerable numbers before the gate, and stand there for hours gazing vacantly at it. There

was no special object in doing this, only that it was a central point, the rations came in there, and occasionally

an officer would enter, and it was the only place where anything was likely to occur to vary the dreary

monotony of the day, and the boys went there because there was nothing else to offer any occupation to their

minds. It became a favorite practical joke of Barrett's to slip up to the gate with an armful of clubs, and

suddenly opening the wicket, fling them one after another, into the crowd, with all the force he possessed.

Many were knocked down, and many received hurts which resulted in fatal gangrene. If he had left the clubs

lying where thrown, there would have been some compensation for his meanness, but he always came in and

I have heard men speak of receiving justiceeven favors from Wirz. I never heard any one saying that much

of Barrett. Like Winder, if he had a redeeming quality it was carefully obscured from the view of all that I

Where the fellow came from, what State was entitled to the discredit of producing and raising him, what he

was before the War, what became of him after he left us, are matters of which I never heard even a rumor,

except a very vague one that he had been killed by our cavalry, some returned prisoner having recognized and

Colonel Iverson, of the Fifth Georgia, was the Post Commander. He was a man of some education, but had a

violent, ungovernable temper, during fits of which he did very brutal things. At other times he would show a

disposition towards fairness and justice. The worst point in my indictment against him is that he suffered

Let the reader understand that I have no personal reasons for my opinion of these men. They never did

anything to me, save what they did to all of my companions. I held myself aloof from them, and shunned

intercourse so effectually that during my whole imprisonment I did not speak as many words to Rebel

officers as are in this and the above paragraphs, and most of those were spoken to the Surgeon who visited

my hundred. I do not usually seek conversation with people I do not like, and certainly did not with persons

for whom I had so little love as I had for Turner, Ross, Winder, Wirz, Davis, Iverson, Barrett, et al. Possibly

they felt badly over my distance and reserve, but I must confess that they never showed it very palpably.

As January dragged slowly away into February, rumors of the astonishing success of Sherman began to be so

definite and well authenticated as to induce belief. We knew that the Western Chieftain had marched almost

unresisted through Georgia, and captured Savannah with comparatively little difficulty. We did not

understand it, nor did the Rebels around us, for neither of us comprehended the Confederacy's near approach

to dissolution, and we could not explain why a desperate attempt was not made somewhere to arrest the

onward sweep of the conquering armies of the West. It seemed that if there was any vitality left in Rebeldom

it would deal a blow that would at least cause the presumptuous invader to pause. As we knew nothing of the

battles of Franklin and Nashville, we were ignorant of the destruction of Hood's army, and were at a loss to

account for its failure to contest Sherman's progress. The last we had heard of Hood, he had been flanked out

of Atlanta, but we did not understand that the strength or morale of his force had been seriously reduced in

Soon it drifted in to us that Sherman had cut loose from Savannah, as from Atlanta, and entered South

Carolina, to repeat there the march through her sister State. Our sources of information now were confined to

the gossip which our menworking outside on parole,could overhear from the Rebels, and communicate

to us as occasion served. These occasions were not frequent, as the men outside were not allowed to come in

except rarely, or stay long then. Still we managed to know reasonably, soon that Sherman was sweeping

resistlessly across the State, with Hardee, Dick Taylor, Beauregard, and others, vainly trying to make head

against him. It seemed impossible to us that they should not stop him soon, for if each of all these leaders had

any command worthy the name the aggregate must make an army that, standing on the defensive, would give

Sherman a great deal of trouble. That he would be able to penetrate into the State as far as we were never

By and by we were astonished at the number of the trains that we could hear passing north on the Charleston

Cheraw Railroad. Day and night for two weeks there did not seem to be more than half an hour's interval at

any time between the rumble and whistles of the trains as they passed Florence Junction, and sped away

towards Cheraw, thirtyfive miles north of us. We at length discovered that Sherman had reached

Branchville, and was singing around toward Columbia, and other important points to the north; that

Charleston was being evacuated, and its garrison, munitions and stores were being removed to Cheraw,

which the Rebel Generals intended to make their new base. As this news was so well confirmed as to leave

no doubt of it, it began to wake up and encourage all the more hopeful of us. We thought we could see some

premonitions of the glorious end, and that we were getting vicarious satisfaction at the hands of our friends

One morning orders came for one thousand men to get ready to move. Andrews and I held a council of war

on the situation, the question before the house being whether we would go with that crowd, or stay behind.

"Now, Mc., we've flanked ahead every time, and see how we've come out. We flanked into the first squad

that left Richmond, and we were consequently in the first that got into Andersonville. May be if we'd staid

back we'd got into that squad that was exchanged. We were in the first squad that left Andersonville. We

were the first to leave Savannah and enter Millen. May be if we'd staid back, we'd got exchanged with the ten

thousand sick. We were the first to leave Millen and the first to reach Blackshear. We were again the first to

leave Blackshear. Perhaps those fellows we left behind then are exchanged. Now, as we've played ahead

every time, with such infernal luck, let's play backward this time, and try what that brings us."

"But, Lale," (Andrews's nicknamehis proper name being Bezaleel), said I, "we made something by going

ahead every timethat is, if we were not going to be exchanged. By getting into those places first we picked

out the best spots to stay, and got tentbuilding stuff that those who came after us could not. And certainly

we can never again get into as bad a place as this is. The chances are that if this does not mean exchange, it

But we concluded, as I said above, to reverse our usual order of procedure and flank back, in hopes that

something would favor our escape to Sherman. Accordingly, we let the first squad go off without us, and the

next, and the next, and so on, till there were only eleven hundred mostly those sick in the

Hospitalremaining behind. Those who went awaywe afterwards learned, were run down on the cars to

For a week or more we eleven hundred tenanted the Stockade, and by burning up the tents of those who had

gone had the only decent, comfortable fires we had while in Florence. In hunting around through the tents for

fuel we found many bodies of those who had died as their comrades were leaving. As the larger portion of us

could barely walk, the Rebels paroled us to remain inside of the Stockade or within a few hundred yards of

the front of it, and took the guards off. While these were marching down, a dozen or more of us, exulting in

even so much freedom as we had obtained, climbed on the Hospital shed to see what the outlook was, and

perched ourselves on the ridgepole. Lieutenant Barrett came along, at a distance of two hundred yards, with a

squad of guards. Observing us, he halted his men, faced them toward us, and they leveled their guns as if to

fire. He expected to see us tumble down in ludicrous alarm, to avoid the bullets. But we hated him and them

so bad, that we could not give them the poor satisfaction of scaring us. Only one of our party attempted to

slide down, but the moment we swore at him he came back and took his seat with folded arms alongside of

us. Barrett gave the order to fire, and the bullets shrieked aver our heads, fortunately not hitting anybody. We

Coming down after awhile, I walked to the now open gate, and looped through it over the barren fields to the

dense woods a mile away, and a wild desire to run off took possession of me. It seemed as if I could not resist

it. The woods appeared full of enticing shapes, beckoning me to come to them, and the winds whispered in

But the words of my parole were still fresh in my mind, and I stilled my frenzy to escape by turning back into

Once five new prisoners, the first we had seen in a long time, were brought in from Sherman's army. They

were plump, wellconditioned, well dressed, healthy, devilmaycare young fellows, whose confidence in

themselves and in Sherman was simply limitless, and their contempt for all Rebels and especially those who

"Come up here to headquarters," said one of the Rebel officers to them as they stood talking to us; "and we'll

"O go to h with your parole," said the spokesman of the crowd, with nonchalant contempt; "we don't

"Now, you boys want to cheer right up; keep a stiff upper lip. This thing's workin' all right. Their old

Confederacy's goin' to pieces like a house afire. Sherman's promenadin' through it just as it suits him, and he's

liable to pay a visit at any hour. We're expectin' him all the time, because it was generally understood all

I mentioned my distrust of the concentration of Rebels at Cheraw, and their faces took on a look of supreme

"Now, don't let that worry you a minute," said the confident spokesman. "All the Rebels between here and

Lee's Army can't prevent Sherman from going just where he pleases. Why, we've quit fightin' 'em except with

the Bummers advance. We haven't had to go into regular line of battle against them for I don't know how

long. Sherman would like anything better than to have 'em make a stand somewhere so that he could get a

No one can imagine the effect of all this upon us. It was better than a carload of medicines and a train load of

provisions would have been. From the depths of despondency we sprang at once to tiptoe on the

mountaintops of expectation. We did little day and night but listen for the sound of Sherman's guns and

discuss what we would do when he came. We planned schemes of terrible vengeance on Barrett and Iverson,

but these worthies had mysteriously disappearedwhither no one knew. There was hardly an hour of any

night passed without some one of us fancying that he heard the welcome sound of distant firing. As

everybody knows, by listening intently at night, one can hear just exactly what he is intent upon hearing, and

so was with us. In the middle of the night boys listening awake with strained ears, would say:

"Now, if ever I heard musketry firing in my life, that's a heavy skirmish line at work, and sharply too, and not

"I don't want to ever get out of here if that don't sound just as the skirmishing at Chancellorsville did the first

day to us. We were lying down about four miles off, when it began pattering just as that is doing now."

One night about nine or ten, there came two short, sharp peals of thunder, that sounded precisely like the

reports of rifled field pieces. We sprang up in a frenzy of excitement, and shouted as if our throats would

split. But the next peal went off in the usual rumble, and our excitement had to subside.

Things had gone on in the way described in the previous chapter until past the middle of February. For more

than a week every waking hour was spent in anxious expectancy of Shermanlistening for the faroff rattle

of his gunsstraining our ears to catch the sullen boom of his artilleryscanning the distant woods to see

the Rebels falling back in hopeless confusion before the pursuit of his dashing advance. Though we became

as impatient as those ancient sentinels who for ten long years stood upon the Grecian hills to catch the first

glimpse of the flames of burning Troy, Sherman came not. We afterwards learned that two expeditions were

sent down towards us from Cheraw, but they met with unexpected resistance, and were turned back.

It was now plain to us that the Confederacy was tottering to its fall, and we were only troubled by occasional

misgivings that we might in some way be caught and crushed under the toppling ruins. It did not seem

possible that with the cruel tenacity with which the Rebels had clung to us they would be willing to let us go

free at last, but would be tempted in the rage of their final defeat to commit some unparalleled atrocity upon

One day all of us who were able to walk were made to fall in and march over to the railroad, where we were

loaded into boxcars. The sick except those who were manifestly dyingwere loaded into wagons and

hauled over. The dying were left to their fate, without any companions or nurses.

The train started off in a northeasterly direction, and as we went through Florence the skies were crimson

with great fires, burning in all directions. We were told these were cotton and military stores being destroyed

When morning came we were still running in the same direction that we started. In the confusion of loading

us upon the cars the previous evening, I had been allowed to approach too near a Rebel officer's stock of

rations, and the result was his being the loser and myself the gainer of a canteen filled with fairly good

molasses. Andrews and I had some corn bread, and we, breakfasted sumptuously upon it and the molasses,

Our meal over, we began reconnoitering, as much for employment as anything else. We were in the front end

of a box car. With a saw made on the back of a caseknife we cut a hole through the boards big enough to

permit us to pass out, and perhaps escape. We found that we were on the foremost box car of the trainthe

next vehicle to us being a passenger coach, in which were the Rebel officers. On the rear platform of this car

was seated one of their servantsa trusty old slave, well dressed, for a negro, and as respectful as his class

He gave a quick look around to see if the door behind him was so securely shut that he could not be

overheard by the Rebels inside the car, his dull, stolid face lighted up as a negro's always does in the

"Can get us there!" said I in astonishment. "Is there anything to prevent them taking us there?"

The great eyes flamed up with intelligence to tell me that I guessed aright; again he glanced nervously around

to assure himself that no one was eavesdropping, and then he said in a whisper, just loud enough to be heard

The news startled me, but it was true, our troops having driven out the Rebel troops, and entered Wilmington,

on the preceding daythe 22d of February, 1865, as I learned afterwards. How this negro came to know

more of what was going on than his masters puzzled me much. That he did know more was beyond question,

since if the Rebels in whose charge we were had known of Wilmington's fall, they would not have gone to

the trouble of loading us upon the cars and hauling us one, hundred miles in the direction of a City which had

It has been asserted by many writers that the negros had some occult means of diffusing important news

among the mass of their people, probably by relays of swift runners who traveled at night, going twenty five

or thirty miles and back before morning. Very astonishing stories are told of things communicated in this way

across the length or breadth of the Confederacy. It is said that our officers in the blockading fleet in the Gulf

heard from the negros in advance of the publication in the Rebel papers of the issuance of the Proclamation of

Emancipation, and of several of our most important Victories. The incident given above prepares me to

believe all that has been told of the perfection to which the negros had brought their "grapevine telegraph," as

The Rebels believed something of it, too. In spite of their rigorous patrol, an institution dating long before the

war, and the severe punishments visited upon negros found off their master's premises without a pass, none of

them entertained a doubt that the young negro men were in the habit of making long, mysterious journeys at

night, which had other motives than lovemaking or chickenstealing. Occasionally a young man would get

caught fifty or seventyfive miles from his "quarters," while on some errand of his own, the nature of which

no punishment could make him divulge. His master would be satisfied that he did not intend running away,

because he was likely going in the wrong direction, but beyond this nothing could be ascertained. It was a

common belief among overseers, when they saw an active, healthy young "buck" sleepy and languid about

The country we were running throughif such straining, toilsome progress as our engine was making could

be called runningwas a rich turpentine district. We passed by forests where all the trees were marked with

long scores through the bark, and extended up to a hight of twenty feet or more. Into these, the turpentine and

rosin, running down, were caught, and conveyed by negros to stills near by, where it was prepared for market.

The stills were as rude as the mills we had seen in Eastern Tennessee and Kentucky, and were as liable to

fiery destruction as a powderhouse. Every few miles a wide space of ground, burned clean of trees and

underbrush, and yet marked by a portion of the stones which had formed the furnace, showed where a

turpentine still, managed by careless and ignorant blacks, had been licked up by the breath of flame. They

never seemed to rebuild on these spotswhether from superstition or other reasons, I know not.

Occasionally we came to great piles of barrels of turpentine, rosin and tar, some of which had laid there since

the blockade had cut off communication with the outer world. Many of the barrels of rosin had burst, and

their contents melted in the heat of the sun, had run over the ground like streams of lava, covering it to a

depth of many inches. At the enormous price rosin, tar and turpentine were commanding in the markets of the

world, each of these piles represented a superb fortune. Any one of them, if lying upon the docks of New

York, would have yielded enough to make every one of us upon the train comfortable for life. But a few

months after the blockade was raised, and they sank to one thirtieth of their present value.

These terebinthine stores were the property of the plantation lords of the lowlands of North Carolina, who

correspond to the pinchbeck barons of the rice districts of South Carolina. As there, the whites and negros we

saw were of the lowest, most squalid type of humanity. The people of the middle and upland districts of

North Carolina are a much superior race to the same class in South Carolina. They are mostly of ScotchIrish

descent, with a strong infusion of EnglishQuaker blood, and resemble much the best of the Virginians. They

make an effort to diffuse education, and have many of the virtues of a simple, nonprogressive, tolerably

industrious middle class. It was here that the strong Union sentiment of North Carolina numbered most of its

adherents. The people of the lowlands were as different as if belonging to another race. The enormous mass

of ignorancethe three hundred and fifty thousand men and women who could not read or writewere

mostly black and white serfs of the great landholders, whose plantations lie within one hundred miles of the

As we approached the coast the country became swampier, and our old acquaintances, the cypress, with their

About the middle of the afternoon our train suddenly stopped. Looking out to ascertain the cause, we were

electrified to see a Rebel line of battle stretched across the track, about a half mile ahead of the engine, and

with its rear toward us. It was as real a line as was ever seen on any field. The double ranks of "Butternuts,"

with arms gleaming in the afternoon sun, stretched away out through the open pine woods, farther than we

could see. Close behind the motionless line stood the company officers, leaning on their drawn swords.

Behind these still, were the regimental officers on their horses. On a slight rise of the ground, a group of

horsemen, to whom other horsemen momentarily dashed up to or sped away from, showed the station of the

General in command. On another knoll, at a little distance, were severalfield pieces, standing "in battery,"

the cannoneers at the guns, the postillions dismounted and holding their horses by the bits, the caisson men

standing in readiness to serve out ammunition. Our men were evidently close at hand in strong force, and the

For a minute we were speechless with astonishment. Then came a surge of excitement. What should we do?

What could we do? Obviously nothing. Eleven hundred, sick, enfeebled prisoners could not even overpower

their guards, let alone make such a diversion in the rear of a lineofbattle as would assist our folks to gain a

victory. But while we debated the engine whistled sharplya frightened shriek it sounded to usand began

pushing our train rapidly backward over the rough and wretched track. Back, back we went, as fast as rosin

and pine knots could force the engine to move us. The cars swayed continually back and forth, momentarily

threatening to fly the crazy roadway, and roll over the embankment or into one of the adjacent swamps. We

would have hailed such a catastrophe, as it would have probably killed more of the guards than of us, and the

confusion would have given many of the survivors opportunity to escape. But no such accident happened,

and towards midnight we reached the bridge across the Great Pedee River, where our train was stopped by a

squad of Rebel cavalrymen, who brought the intelligence that as Kilpatrick was expected into Florence every

We were ordered off the cars, and laid down on the banks of the Great Pedee, our guards and the cavalry

forming a line around us, and taking precautions to defend the bridge against Kilpatrick, should he find out

"Well, Mc," said Andrews, as we adjusted our old overcoat and blanket on the ground for a bed; "I guess we

needn't care whether school keeps or not. Our fellows have evidently got both ends of the road, and are

coming towards us from each way. There's no roadnot even a wagon road for the Johnnies to run us off

on, and I guess all we've got to do is to stand still and see the salvation of the Lord. Bad as these hounds are, I

don't believe they will shoot us down rather than let our folks retake us. At least they won't since old Winder's

dead. If he was alive, he'd order our throats cutone by onewith the guards' pocket knives, rather than

give us up. I'm only afraid we'll be allowed to starve before our folks reach us."

But Kilpatrick, like Sherman, came not. Perhaps he knew that all the prisoners had been removed from the

Stockade; perhaps he had other business of more importance on hand; probably his movement was only a

feint. At all events it was definitely known the next day that he had withdrawn so far as to render it wholly

unlikely that he intended attacking Florence, so we were brought back and returned to our old quarters. For a

week or more we loitered about the now nearlyabandoned prison; skulked and crawled around the dismal

mudtents like the ghostly denizens of some Potter's Field, who, for some reason had been allowed to return

to earth, and for awhile creep painfully around the little hillocks beneath which they had been entombed.

A few score, whose vital powers were strained to the last degree of tension, gave up the ghost, and sank to

dreamless rest. It mattered now little to these when Sherman came, or when Kilpatrick's guidons should

flutter through the forest of sighing pines, heralds of life, happiness, and home

After life's fitful fever they slept well Treason had done its worst. Nor steel nor poison: Malice domestic,

One day another order came for us to be loaded on the cars, and over to the railroad we went again in the

same fashion as before. The comparatively few of us who were still able to walk at all well, loaded ourselves

down with the bundles and blankets of our less fortunate companions, who hobbled and limpedmany even

Those not able to crawl even, were taken in wagons, for the orders were imperative not to leave a living

At the railroad we found two trains awaiting us. On the front of each engine were two rude white flags, made

by fastening the halves of meal sacks to short sticks. The sight of these gave us some hope, but our belief that

Rebels were constitutional liars and deceivers was so firm and fixed, that we persuaded ourselves that the

Again we started off in the direction of Wilmington, and traversed the same country described in the previous

chapter. Again Andrews and I found ourselves in the next box car to the passenger coach containing the

Rebel officers. Again we cut a hole through the end, with our saw, and again found a darky servant sitting on

the rear platform. Andrews went out and sat down alongside of him, and found that he was seated upon a

The intelligence that there was something there worth taking Andrews communicated to me by an expressive

signal, of which soldiers campaigning together as long as he and I had, always have an extensive and well

I took a seat in the hole we had made in the end of the car, in reach of Andrews. Andrews called the attention

of the negro to some feature of the country near by, and asked him a question in regard to it. As he looked in

the direction indicated, Andrews slipped his hand into the mouth of the bag, and pulled out a small sack of

wheat biscuits, which he passed to me and I concealed. The darky turned and told Andrews all about the

matter in regard to which the interrogation had been made. Andrews became so much interested in what was

being told him, that he sat up closer and closer to the darky, who in turn moved farther away from the sack.

Next we ran through a turpentine plantation, and as the darky was pointing out where the still, the master's

place, the "quarters," etc., were, Andrews managed to fish out of that bag and pass to me three roasted

chickens. Then a great swamp called for description, and before we were through with it, I had about a peck

Andrews emptied the bag as the darky was showing him a great peanut plantation, taking from it a small

fryingpan, a canteen of molasses, and a halfgallon tin bucket, which had been used to make coffee in. We

divided up our wealth of eatables with the rest of the boys in the car, not forgetting to keep enough to give

As we ran along we searched carefully for the place where we had seen the lineofbattle, expecting that it

would now be marked with signs of a terrible conflict, but we could see nothing. We could not even fix the

As it became apparent that we were going directly toward Wilmington, as fast as our engines could pull us,

the excitement rose. We had many misgivings as to whether our folks still retained possession of

Wilmington, and whether, if they did, the Rebels could not stop at a point outside of our lines, and transfer us

For hours we had seen nobody in the country through which we were passing. What few houses were visible

were apparently deserted, and there were no Towns or stations anywhere. We were very anxious to see some

one, in hopes of getting a hint of what the state of affairs was in the direction we were going. At length we

saw a young manapparently a scouton horseback, but his clothes were equally divided between the blue

An hour later we saw two infantrymen, who were evidently out foraging. They had sacks of something on

their backs, and wore blue clothes. This was a very hopeful sign of a near approach to our lines, but bitter

About 4 o'clock P. M., the trains stopped and whistled long and loud. Looking out I could seeperhaps

halfamile awaya line of rifle pits running at right angles with the track. Guards, whose guns flashed as

they turned, were pacing up and down, but they were too far away for me to distinguish their uniforms.

But I received much encouragement from the singular conduct of our guards. First I noticed a Captain, who

He was walking on the ground by the train. His face was pale, his teeth set, and his eyes shone with

excitement. He called out in a strange, forced voice to his men and boys on the roof of the cars

The fellows did so, in a slow, constrained, frightened ways and huddled together, in the most unsoldierly

The whole thing reminded me of a scene I once saw in our line, where a weakkneed Captain was ordered to

We immediately divined what was the matter. The lines in front of us were really those of our people, and the

idiots of guards, not knowing of their entire safety when protected by a flag of truce, were scared half out of

"Och, ye dirty spalpeens; it's not shootin' prisoners ye are now; it's cumin' where the Yankee b'ys hev the gun;

and the minnit ye say thim yer white livers show themselves in yer pale faces. Bad luck to the blatherin'

At length our train moved up so near to the line that I could see it was the grand, old loyal blue that clothed

And certainly the world does not hold as superb looking men as these appeared to me. Finely formed,

stalwart, fullfed and well clothed, they formed the most delightful contrast with the scrawny, shambling,

villain visaged little clayeaters and white trash who had looked down upon us from the sentry boxes for

I sprang out of the cars and began washing my face and hands in the ditch at the side of the road. The Rebel

An hour before I would have scrambled back as quickly as possible, knowing that an instant's hesitation

would be followed by a bullet. Now, I looked him in the face, and said as irritatingly as possible:

"O, you go to , you Rebel. I'm going into Uncle Sam's lines with as little Rebel filth on me as possible."

Descending from the cars, we passed through the guards into our lines, a Rebel and a Union clerk checking us

The place where we came through was several miles west of Wilmington, where the railroad crossed a branch

of the Cape Fear River. The point was held by a brigade of Schofield's armythe TwentyThird Army

The boys lavished unstinted kindness upon us. All of the brigade off duty crowded around, offering us

blankets, shirts shoes, pantaloons and other articles of clothing and similar things that we were obviously in

the greatest need of. The sick were carried, by hundreds of willing hands, to a sheltered spot, and laid upon

good, comfortable beds improvised with leaves and blankets. A great line of huge, generous fires was built,

By and by a line of wagons came over from Wilmington laden with rations, and they were dispensed to us

with what seemed reckless prodigality. The lid of a box of hard tack would be knocked off, and the contents

handed to us as we filed past, with absolute disregard as to quantity. If a prisoner looked wistful after

receiving one handful of crackers, another was handed to him; if his longfamished eyes still lingered as if

"Here, old fellow, there's plenty of it: take just as much as you can carry in your arms."

So it was also with the pickled pork, the coffee, the sugar, etc. We had been stinted and starved so long that

The kindhearted boys who were acting as our hosts began preparing food for the sick, but the Surgeons,

who had arrived in the meanwhile, were compelled to repress them, as it was plain that while it was a

dangerous experiment to give any of us all we could or would eat, it would never do to give the sick such a

temptation to kill themselves, and only a limited amount of food was allowed to be given those who were

Andrews and I hungered for coffee, the delightful fumes of which filled the air and intoxicated our senses.

We drank so much of this that Andrews became positively drunk, and fell helplessly into some brush. I pulled

I was dazed. I could not comprehend that the longlooked for, often despairedof event had actually

happened. I feared that it was one of those tantalizing dreams that had so often haunted my sleep, only to be

followed by a wretched awakening. Then I became seized with a sudden fear lest the Rebel attempt to retake

me. The line of guards around us seemed very slight. It might be forced in the night, and all of us recaptured.

Shivering at this thought, absurd though it was, I arose from our bed, and taking Andrews with me, crawled

two or three hundred yards into a dense undergrowth, where in the event of our lines being forced, we would

After a sound sleep, Andrews and I awoke to the enjoyment of our first day of freedom and existence in

God's country. The sun had already risen, bright and warm, consonant with the happiness of the new life now

But to nearly a score of our party his beams brought no awakening gladness. They fell upon stony, staring

eyes, from out of which the light of life had now faded, as the light of hope had done long ago. The dead lay

there upon the rude beds of fallen leaves, scraped together by thoughtful comrades the night before, their

clenched teeth showing through parted lips, faces fleshless and pinched, long, unkempt and ragged hair and

whiskers just stirred by the lazy breeze, the rotting feet and limbs drawn up, and skinny hands clenched in the

Their fate seemed harder than that of any who had died before them. It was doubtful if many of them knew

Again the kindhearted boys of the brigade crowded around us with proffers of service. Of an Ohio boy who

directed his kind tenders to Andrews and me, we procured a chunk of coarse rosin soap about as big as a pack

of cards, and a towel. Never was there as great a quantity of solid comfort got out of that much soap as we

obtained. It was the first that we had since that which I stole in Wirz's headquarters, in June nine months

before. We felt that the dirt which had accumulated upon us since then would subject us to assessment as real

Hurrying off to a little creek we began our ablutions, and it was not long until Andrews declared that there

was a perceptible sandbar forming in the stream, from what we washed off. Dirt deposits of the Pliocene era

rolled off feet and legs. Eocene incrustations let loose reluctantly from neck and ears; the hair was a mass of

tangled locks matted with nine months' accumulation of pitch pine tar, rosin soot, and South Carolina sand,

that we did not think we had better start in upon it until we either had the shock cut off, or had a whole ocean

After scrubbing until we were exhausted we got off the first few outer layersthe post tertiary formation, a

geologist would term itand the smell of many breakfasts cooking, coming down over the hill, set our

We went back, rosy, panting, glowing, but happy, to get our selves some breakfast.

Should Providence, for some inscrutable reason, vouchsafe me the years of Methuselah, one of the

pleasantest recollections that will abide with me to the close of the nine hundredth and sixtyninth year, will

be of that delightful odor of cooking food which regaled our senses as we came back. From the boiling coffee

and the meat frying in the pan rose an incense sweeter to the senses a thousand times than all the perfumes of

far Arabia. It differed from the loathsome odor of cooking corn meal as much as it did from the effluvia of a

Our noses were the first of our senses to bear testimony that we had passed from the land of starvation to that

of plenty. Andrews and I hastened off to get our own breakfast, and soon had a halfgallon of strong coffee,

and a fryingpan full, of meat cooking over the firenot one of the beggarly skimped little fires we had

crouched over during our months of imprisonment, but a royal, generous fire, fed with logs instead of

Having eaten positively all that we could swallow, those of us who could walk were ordered to fall in and

march over to Wilmington. We crossed the branch of the river on a pontoon bridge, and took the road that led

across the narrow sandy island between the two branches, Wilmington being situated on the opposite bank of

When about half way a shout from some one in advance caused us to look up, and then we saw, flying from a

tall steeple in Wilmington, the glorious old Stars and Stripes, resplendent in the morning sun, and more

beautiful than the most gorgeous web from Tyrian looms. We stopped with one accord, and shouted and

cheered and cried until every throat was sore and every eye red and bloodshot. It seemed as if our cup of

When we arrived at the bank of the river opposite Wilmington, a whole world of new and interesting sights

opened up before us. Wilmington, during the last yearandahalf of the war, was, next to Richmond, the

most important place in the Southern Confederacy. It was the only port to which blockade running was at all

safe enough to be lucrative. The Rebels held the strong forts of Caswell and Fisher, at the mouth of Cape Fear

River, and outside, the Frying Pan Shoals, which extended along the coast forty or fifty miles, kept our

blockading fleet so far off, and made the line so weak and scattered, that there was comparatively little risk to

the small, swiftsailing vessels employed by the blockade runners in running through it. The only way that

blockade running could be stopped was by the reduction of Forts Caswell and Fisher, and it was not stopped

Before the war Wilmington was a dull, sleepy North Carolina Town, with as little animation of any kind as a

Breton Pillage. The only business was the handling of the tar, turpentine, rosin, and peanuts produced in the

surrounding country, a business never lively enough to excite more than a lazy ripple in the sluggish lagoons

of trade. But very new wine was put into this old bottle when blockade running began to develop in

importance. Then this Sleepy hollow of a place took on the appearance of San Francisco in the hight of the

gold fever. The English houses engaged in blockade running established branches there conducted by young

men who lived like princes. All the best houses in the City were leased by them and fitted up in the most

gorgeous style. They literally clothed themselves in purple and fine linen and fared sumptuously every day,

with their fine wines and imported delicacies and retinue of servants to wait upon them. Fast young Rebel

officers, eager for a season of dissipation, could imagine nothing better than a leave of absence to go to

Wilmington. Money flowed like water. The common sailorsthe scum of all foreign portswho manned

the blockade runners, received as high as one hundred dollars in gold per month, and a bounty of fifty dollars

for every successful trip, which from Nassau could be easily made in seven days. Other people were paid in

proportion, and as the old proverb says, "What comes over the Devil's back is spent under his breast," the

money so obtained was squandered recklessly, and all sorts of debauchery ran riot.

On the ground where we were standing had been erected several large steam cotton presses, built to compress

cotton for the blockade runners. Around them were stored immense quantities of cotton, and near by were

nearly as great stores of turpentine, rosin and tar. A little farther down the river was navy yard with docks,

etc., for the accommodation, building and repair of blockade runners. At the time our folks took Fort Fisher

and advanced on Wilmington the docks were filled with vessels. The retreating Rebels set fire to

everythingcotton, cotton presses, turpentine, rosin, tar, navy yard, naval stores, timber, docks, and vessels,

and the fire made clean work. Our people arrived too late to save anything, and when we came in the smoke

from the burned cotton, turpentine, etc., still filled the woods. It was a signal illustration of the ravages of

war. Here had been destroyed, in a few hours, more property than a halfmillion industrious men would

Almost as gratifying as the sight of the old flag flying in triumph, was the exhibition of our naval power in

the river before us. The larger part of the great North Atlantic squadron, which had done such excellent

service in the reduction of the defenses of Wilmington, was lying at anchor, with their hundreds of huge guns

yawning as if ardent for more great forts to beat down, more vessels to sink, more heavy artillery to crush,

more Rebels to conquer. It seemed as if there were cannon enough there to blow the whole Confederacy into

kingdomcome. All was life and animation around the fleet. On the decks the officers were pacing up and

down. One on each vessel carried a long telescope, with which he almost constantly swept the horizon.

Numberless small boats, each rowed by neatlyuniformed men, and carrying a flag in the stern, darted hither

and thither, carrying officers on errands of duty or pleasure. It was such a scene as enabled me to realize in a

measure, the descriptions I had read of the pomp and circumstance of naval warfare.

While we were standing, contemplating all the interesting sights within view, a small steamer, about the size

of a canalboat, and carrying several bright brass guns, ran swiftly and noiselessly up to the dock near by,

and a young, palefaced officer, slender in build and nervous in manner, stepped ashore. Some of the blue

jackets who were talking to us looked at him and the vessel with the greatest expression of interest, and said:

This, then, was the naval boy hero, with whose exploits the whole country was ringing. Our sailor friends

proceeded to tell us of his achievements, of which they were justly proud. They told us of his perilous scouts

and his hairbreadth escapes, of his wonderful audacity and still more wonderful successof his capture of

Towns with a handful of sailors, and the destruction of valuable stores, etc. I felt very sorry that the man was

not a cavalry commander. There he would have had full scope for his peculiar genius. He had come

prominently into notice in the preceding Autumn, when he had, by one of the most daring performances

narrated in naval history, destroyed the formidable ram "Albermarle." This vessel had been constructed by

the Rebels on the Roanoke River, and had done them very good service, first by assisting to reduce the forts

and capture the garrison at Plymouth, N. C., and afterward in some minor engagements. In October, 1864,

she was lying at Plymouth. Around her was a boom of logs to prevent sudden approaches of boats or vessels

from our fleet. Cushing, who was then barely twenty one, resolved to attempt her destruction. He fitted up a

steam launch with a long spar to which he attached a torpedo. On the night of October 27th, with thirteen

companions, he ran quietly up the Sound and was not discovered until his boat struck the boom, when a

terrific fire was opened upon him. Backing a short distance, he ran at the boom with such velocity that his

boat leaped across it into the water beyond. In an instant more his torpedo struck the side of the "Albemarle"

and exploded, tearing a great hole in her hull, which sank her in a few minutes. At the moment the torpedo

went off the "Albermarle" fired one of her great guns directly into the launch, tearing it completely to pieces.

Lieutenant Cushing and one comrade rose to the surface of the seething water and, swimming ashore,

escaped. What became of the rest is not known, but their fate can hardly be a matter of doubt.

We were ferried across the river into Wilmington, and marched up the streets to some vacant ground near the

railroad depot, where we found most of our old Florence comrades already assembled. When they left us in

the middle of February they were taken to Wilmington, and thence to Goldsboro, N. C., where they were kept

until the rapid closing in of our Armies made it impracticable to hold them any longer, when they were sent

It was now nearly noon, and we were ordered to fall in and draw rations, a bewildering order to us, who had

been so long in the habit of drawing food but once a day. We fell in in single rank, and marched up, one at a

time, past where a group of employees of the Commissary Department dealt out the food. One handed each

prisoner as he passed a large slice of meat; another gave him a handful of ground coffee; a third a handful of

sugar; a fourth gave him a pickle, while a fifth and sixth handed him an onion and a loaf of fresh bread. This

filled the horn of our plenty full. To have all these in one daymeat, coffee, sugar, onions and soft

breadwas simply to riot in undreamedof luxury. Many of the boyspoor fellowscould not yet realize

that there was enough for all, or they could not give up their old "flanking" tricks, and they stole around, and

falling into the rear, came up again for' another share. We laughed at them, as did the Commissary men, who,

nevertheless, duplicated the rations already received,, and sent them away happy and content.

What a glorious dinner Andrews and I had, with our half gallon of strong coffee, our soft bread, and a pan

full of fried pork and onions! Such an enjoyable feast will never be, eaten again by us.

Here we saw negro troops under arms for the first timethe most of the organization of colored soldiers

having been, done since our capture. It was startling at first to see a stalwart, coalblack negro stalking along

with a Sergeant's chevrons on his arm, or to gaze on a regimental line of dusky faces on dress parade, but we

soon got used to it. The first strong peculiarity of the negro soldier that impressed itself, upon us was his

literal obedience of orders. A white soldier usually allows himself considerable discretion in obeying

ordershe aims more at the spirit, while the negro adheres to the strict letter of the command.

For instance, the second day after our arrival a line of guards were placed around us, with orders not to allow

any of us to go up town without a pass. The reason of this was that many weakeven dyingmen would

persist in wandering about, and would be found exhausted, frequently dead, in various parts of the City.

Andrews and I concluded to go up town. Approaching a negro sentinel he warned us back with,

He would not allow us to argue the case, but brought his gun to such a threatening position that we fell back.

Going down the line a little farther, we came to a white sentinel, to whom I said:

"My orders are not to let any of you fellows pass, but my beat only extends to that outhouse there."

Acting on this plain hint, we walked around the house and went uptown. The guard simply construed his

orders in a liberal spirit. He reasoned that they hardly applied to us, since we were evidently able to take care

Later we had another illustration of this dog like fidelity of the colored sentinel. A number of us were

quartered in a large and empty warehouse. On the same floor, and close to us, were a couple of very fine

horses belonging to some officer. We had not been in the warehouse very long until we concluded that the

straw with which the horses were bedded would be better used in making couches for ourselves, and this

suggestion was instantly acted upon, and so thoroughly that there was not a straw left between the animals

and the bare boards. Presently the owner of the horses came in, and he was greatly incensed at what had been

done. He relieved his mind of a few sulphurous oaths, and going out, came back soon with a man with more

"Now, look here. You musn't let anybody take anything sway from these stalls; d'you understand me? not

He then went out. Andrews and I had just finished cooking dinner, and were sitting down to eat it. Wishing to

lend our fryingpan to another mess, I looked around for something to lay our meat upon. Near the horses I

saw a book cover, which would answer the purpose admirably. Springing up, I skipped across to where it

was, snatched it up, and ran back to my place. As I reached it a yell from the boys made me look around. The

darky was coming at me "full tilt," with his gun at a "charge bayonets." As I turned he said:

"Why, this don't amount to anything, this is only an old book cover. It hasn't anything in the world to do with

"Now, you woollyheaded son of thunder, haven't you got sense enough to know that the officer who posted

you didn't mean such a thing as this! He only meant that we should not be allowed to take any of the horses'

I might as well have reasoned with a cigar store Indian. He set his teeth, his eyes showed a dangerous amount

of white, and foreshortening his musket for a lunge, he hissed out again "Put dat right back dah, I tell you!"

I looked at the bayonet; it was very long, very bright, and very sharp. It gleamed cold and chilly like, as if it

had not run through a man for a long time, and yearned for another opportunity. Nothing but the whites of the

darky's eyes could now be seen. I did not want to perish there in the fresh bloom of my youth and loveliness;

it seemed to me as if it was my duty to reserve myself for fields of future usefulness, so I walked back and

laid the book cover precisely on the spot whence I had obtained it, while the thousand boys in the house set

We staid in Wilmington a few days, days of almost purely animal enjoymentthe joy of having just as much

to eat as we could possibly swallow, and no one to molest or make us afraid in any way. How we did eat and

fill up. The wrinkles in our skin smoothed out under the stretching, and we began to feel as if we were

returning to our old plumpness, though so far the plumpness was wholly abdominal.

One morning we were told that the transports would begin going back with us that afternoon, the first that left

taking the sick. Andrews and I, true to our old prison practices, resolved to be among those on the first boat.

We slipped through the guards and going up town, went straight to Major General Schofield's headquarters

and solicited a pass to go on the first boatthe steamer "Thorn." General Schofield treated us very kindly;

but declined to let anybody but the helplessly sick go on the "Thorn." Defeated here we went down to where

the vessel was lying at the dock, and tried to smuggle ourselves aboard, but the guard was too strong and too

vigilant, and we were driven away. Going along the dock, angry and discouraged by our failure, we saw a

Surgeon, at a little distance, who was examining and sending the sick who could walk aboard another

vesselthe "General Lyon." We took our cue, and a little shamming secured from him tickets which

permitted us to take our passage in her. The larger portion of those on board were in the hold, and a few were

on deck. Andrews and I found a snug place under the forecastle, by the anchor chains.

Both vessels speedily received their complement, and leaving their docks, started down the river. The

"Thorn" steamed ahead of us, and disappeared. Shortly after we got under way, the Colonel who was put in

command of the boathimself a released prisonercame around on a tour of inspection. He found about

one thousand of us aboard, and singling me out made me the noncommissioned officer in command. I was

put in charge, of issuing the rations and of a barrel of milk punch which the Sanitary Commission had sent

down to be dealt out on the voyage to such as needed it. I went to work and arranged the boys in the best way

Wilmington is thirtyfour miles from the sea, and the river for that distance is a calm, broad estuary. At this

time the resources of Rebel engineering were exhausted in defense against its passage by a hostile fleet, and

undoubtedly the best work of the kind in the Southern Confederacy was done upon it. At its mouth were Forts

Fisher and Caswell, the strongest sea coast forts in the Confederacy. Fort Caswell was an old United States

fort, much enlarged and strengthened. Fort Fisher was a new work, begun immediately after the beginning of

the war, and labored at incessantly until captured. Behind these every one of the thirtyfour miles to

Wilmington was covered with the fire of the best guns the English arsenals could produce, mounted on forts

built at every advantageous spot. Lines of piles running out into the water, forced incoming vessels to wind

back and forth across the stream under the pointblank range of massive Armstrong rifles. As if this were not

sufficient, the channel was thickly studded with torpedoes that would explode at the touch of the keel of a

passing vessel. These abundant precautions, and the telegram from General Lee, found in Fort Fisher, stating

that unless that stronghold and Fort Caswell were held he could not hold Richmond, give some idea of the

We passed groups of hundreds of sailors fishing for torpedos, and saw many of these dangerous monsters,

which they had hauled up out of the water. We caught up with the "Thorn," when about half way to the sea,

passed her, to our great delight, and soon left a gap between us of nearly halfamile. We ran through an

opening in the piling, holding up close to the left side, and she apparently followed our course exactly.

Suddenly there was a dull roar; a column of water, bearing with it fragments of timbers, planking and human

bodies, rose up through one side of the vessel, and, as it fell, she lurched forward and sank. She had struck a

Some little time after this happened we approached Fort Anderson, the most powerful of the works between

Wilmington and the forts at the mouth of the sea. It was built on the ruins of the little Town of Brunswick,

destroyed by Cornwallis during the Revolutionary War. We saw a monitor lying near it, and sought good

positions to view this specimen of the redoubtable ironclads of which we had heard and read so much. It

looked precisely as it did in pictures, as black, as grim, and as uncompromising as the impregnable floating

But as we approached closely we noticed a limpness about the smoke stack that seemed very inconsistent

with the customary rigidity of cylindrical iron. Then the escape pipe seemed scarcely able to maintain itself

upright. A few minutes later we discovered that our terrible Cyclops of the sea was a flimsy humbug, a

One of the officers on board told us its story. After the fall of Fort Fisher the Rebels retired to Fort Anderson,

and offered a desperate resistance to our army and fleet. Owing to the shallowness of the water the latter

could not come into close enough range to do effective work. Then the happy idea of this sham monitor

suggested itself to some one. It was prepared, and one morning before daybreak it was sent floating in on the

tide. The other monitors opened up a heavy fire from their position. The Rebels manned their guns and

replied vigorously, by concentrating a terrible cannonade on the sham monitor, which sailed grandly on,

undisturbed by the heavy rifled bolts tearing through her canvas turret. Almost frantic with apprehension of

the result if she could not be checked, every gun that would bear was turned upon her, and torpedos were

exploded in her pathway by electricity. All these she treated with the silent contempt they merited from so

invulnerable a monster. At length, as she reached a good easy range of the fort, her bow struck something,

and she swung around as if to open fire. That was enough for the Rebels. With Schofield's army reaching out

to cut off their retreat, and this dreadful thing about to tear the insides out of their fort with

fourhundredpound shot at quartermile range, there was nothing for them to do but consult their own

safety, which they did with such haste that they did not spike a gun, or destroy a pound of stores.

When we reached the mouth of Cape Fear River the wind was blowing so hard that our Captain did not think

it best to venture out, so he cast anchor. The cabin of the vessel was filled with officers who had been

released from prison about the same time we were. I was also given a berth in the cabin, in consideration of

my being the noncommissioned officer in charge of the men, and I found the associations quite pleasant. A

party was made up, which included me, to visit Fort Fisher, and we spent the larger part of a day very

agreeably in wandering over that great stronghold. We found it wonderful in its strength, and were prepared

to accept the statement of those who had seen foreign defensive works, that it was much more powerful than

The situation of the fort was on a narrow and low spit of ground between Cape Fear River and the ocean. On

this the Rebels had erected, with prodigious labor, an embankment over a mile in length, twentyfive feet

thick and twenty feet high. About twothirds of this bank faced the sea; the other third ran across the spit of

land to protect the fort against an attack from the land side. Still stronger than the bank forming the front of

the fort were the traverses, which prevented an enfilading fire These were regular hills, twentyfive to forty

feet high, and broad and long in proportion. There were fifteen or twenty of them along the face of the fort.

Inside of them were capacious bomb proofs, sufficiently large to shelter the whole garrison. It seemed as if a

whole Township had been dug up, carted down there and set on edge. In front of the works was a strong

palisade. Between each pair of traverses were one or two enormous guns, none less than

onehundredandfifty pounders. Among these we saw a great Armstrong gun, which had been presented to

the Southern Confederacy by its manufacturer, Sir William Armstrong, who, like the majority of the English

nobility, was a warm admirer of the Jeff. Davis crowd. It was the finest piece of ordnance ever seen in this

country. The carriage was rosewood, and the mountings gilt brass. The breech of the gun had five

To attack this place our Government assembled the most powerful fleet ever sent on such an expedition. Over

seventyfive menofwar, including six monitors, and carrying six hundred guns, assailed it with a storm of

shot and shell that averaged four projectiles per second for several hours; the parapet was battered, and the

large guns crushed as one smashes a bottle with a stone. The garrison fled into the bombproofs for

protection. The troops, who had landed above the fort, moved up to assail the land face, while a brigade of

As the fleet had to cease firing to allow the charge, the Rebels ran out of their casemates and, manning the

parapet, opened such a fire of musketry that the brigade from the fleet was driven back, but the soldiers made

a lodgment on the land face. Then began some beautiful cooperative tactics between the Army and Navy,

communication being kept up with signal flags. Our men were on one side of the parapets and the Rebels on

the other, with the fighting almost handtohand. The vessels ranged out to where their guns would rake the

Rebel line, and as their shot tore down its length, the Rebels gave way, and falling back to the next traverse,

renewed the conflict there. Guided by the signals our vessels changed their positions, so as to rake this line

also, and so the fight went on until twelve traverses had been carried, one after the other, when the rebels

The next day the Rebels abandoned Fort Caswell and other fortifications in the immediate neighborhood,

surrendered two gunboats, and fell back to the lines at Fort Anderson. After Fort Fisher fell, several

Never before had there been such a demonstration of the power of heavy artillery. Huge cannon were

pounded into fragments, hills of sand ripped open, deep crevasses blown in the ground by exploding shells,

wooden buildings reduced to kindlingwood, etc. The ground was literally paved with fragments of shot and

shell, which, now red with rust from the corroding salt air, made the interior of the fort resemble what one of

Whichever way we looked along the shores we saw abundant evidence of the greatness of the business which

gave the place its importance. In all directions, as far as the eye could reach, the beach was dotted with the

bleaching skeletons of blockaderunnerssome run ashore by their mistaking the channel, more beached to

Directly in front of the sea face of the fort, and not four hundred yards from the savage mouths of the huge

guns, the blackened timbers of a burned blockaderunner showed above the water at low tide. Coming in

from Nassau with a cargo of priceless value to the gasping Confederacy, she was observed and chased by one

of our vessels, a swifter sailer, even, than herself. The war ship closed rapidly upon her. She sought the

protection of the guns of Fort Fisher, which opened venomously on the chaser. They did not stop her, though

they were less than half a mile away. In another minute she would have sent the Rebel vessel to the bottom of

the sea, by a broadside from her heavy guns, but the Captain of the latter turned her suddenly, and ran her

high up on the beach, wrecking his vessel, but saving the much more valuable cargo. Our vessel then hauled

off, and as night fell, quiet was restored. At midnight two boatloads of determined men, rowing with

muffled oars moved silently out from the blockader towards the beached vessel. In their boats they had some

cans of turpentine, and several large shells. When they reached the blockaderunner they found all her crew

gone ashore, save one watchman, whom they overpowered before he could give the alarm. They cautiously

felt their way around, with the aid of a dark lantern, secured the ship's chronometer, her papers and some

other desired objects. They then saturated with the turpentine piles of combustible material, placed about the

vessel to the best advantage, and finished by depositing the shells where their explosion would ruin the

machinery. All this was done so near to the fort that the sentinels on the parapets could be heard with the

greatest distinctness as they repeated their halfhourly cry of "All's well." Their preparations completed, the

daring fellows touched matches to the doomed vessel in a dozen places at once, and sprang into their boats.

The flames instantly enveloped the ship, and showed the gunners the incendiaries rowing rapidly away. A

hail of shot beat the water into a foam around the boats, but their good fortune still attended them, and they

The wind at length calmed sufficiently to encourage our Captain to venture out, and we were soon battling

with the rolling waves, far out of sight of land. For awhile the novelty of the scene fascinated me. I was at last

on the ocean, of which I had heard, read and imagined so much. The creaking cordage, the straining engine,

the plunging ship, the wild waste of tumbling billows, everyone apparently racing to where our tossing bark

was struggling to maintain herself, all had an entrancing interest for me, and I tried to recall Byron's sublime

Thou glorious mirror, where the Almighty's form Classes itself in tempest: in all time, Calm or convulsedin

breeze, or gale, or storm, Icing the pole, or in the torrid clime Darkheavingboundless, endless, and

sublime The image of eternitythe throne Of the invisible; even from out thy slime The monsters of the

Just then, my reverie was broken by the strong hand of the gruff Captain of, the vessel descending upon my

"See, here, youngster! Ain't you the fellow that was put in command of these men?"

"Well," said the Captain; "I want you to 'tend to your business and straighten them around, so that we can

I turned from the bulwark over which I had been contemplating the vasty deep, and saw the sorriest, most

woebegone lot that the imagination can conceive. Every mother's son was wretchedly seasick. They were

paying the penalty of their overfeeding in Wilmington; and every face looked as if its owner was discovering

for the first time what the real lower depths of human misery was. They all seemed afraid they would not die;

as if they were praying for death, but feeling certain that he was going back on them in a most shameful way.

We straightened them around a little, washed them and the decks off with a hose, and then I started down in

the hold to see how matters were with the six hundred down there. The boys there were much sicker than

those on deck. As I lifted the hatch there rose an odor which appeared strong enough to raise the plank itself.

Every onion that had been issued to us in Wilmington seemed to lie down there in the last stages of

decomposition. All of the seventy distinct smells which Coleridge counted at Cologne might have been

counted in any given cubic foot of atmosphere, while the next foot would have an entirely different and

I recoiled, and leaned against the bulwark, but soon summoned up courage enough to go halfway down the

"here, now! I want you fellows to straighten around there, right off, and help clean up!"

They were as angry and cross as they were sick. They wanted nothing in the world so much as the

opportunity I had given them to swear at and abuse somebody. Every one of them raised on his elbow, and

"O, you go to , you . Just come down another step, and I'll knock the whole head off

Coming back on the deck my stomach began to feel qualmish. Some wretched idiot, whose grandfather's

grave I hope the jackasses have defiled, as the Turks would say, told me that the best preventive of

I went again to the side of the vessel, but now the fascination of the scene had all faded out. The restless

billows were dreary, savage, hungry and dizzying; they seemed to claw at, and tear, and wrench the

struggling ship as a group of huge lions would tease and worry a captive dog. They distressed her and all on

board by dealing a blow which would send her reeling in one direction, but before she had swung the full

length that impulse would have sent her, catching her on the opposite side with a stunning shock that sent her

I thought we could all have stood it if the motion had been like that of a swingbackward and forwardor

even if the to and fro motion had been complicated with a sidewise swing, but to be put through every

possible bewildering motion in the briefest space of time was more than heads of iron and stomachs of brass

I began wondering whether the milk was not the horrible beer swill, stumptail kind of which I had heard so

And the whisky in it; to use a vigorous Westernism, descriptive of mean whisky, it seemed to me that I could

Then the onions I had eaten in Wilmington began to rebel, and incite the bread, meat and coffee to gastric

insurrection, and I became so utterly wretched that life had no farther attractions.

While I was leaning over the bulwark, musing on the complete hollowness of all earthly things, the Captain

"Look here, you're just playin' the very devil acommandin' these here men. Why in don't you stiffen

up, and hump yourself around, and make these men mind, or else belt them over the head with a capstan bar!

I turned a pair of weary and hopeless eyes upon him, and started to say that a man who would talk to one in

my forlorn condition of "stiffening up," and "belting other fellows over the head with a capstan bar," would

insult a woman dying with consumption, but I suddenly became too full for utterance.

The milk punch, the onions, the bread, and meat and coffee tired of fighting it out in the narrow quarters

I turned my head again to the sea, and looking down into its smaragdine depths, let go of the victualistic store

which I had been industriously accumulating ever since I had come through the lines.

I vomited until I felt as empty and hollow as a stove pipe. There was a vacuum that extended clear to my

toenails. I feared that every retching struggle would dent me in, all over, as one sees tin preserving cans

crushed in by outside pressure, and I apprehended that if I kept on much longer my shoesoles would come

I will mention, parenthetically, that, to this day I abhor milk punch, and also onions.

Unutterably miserable as I was I could not refrain from a ghost of a smile, when a poor country boy near me

"O, Captain, for God's sake, stop the boat and lem'me go ashore, and I swear I'll walk every step of the way

Now world I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground; long heath; brown furze; anything.

After this misery had lasted about two days we got past Cape Hatteras, and out of reach of its malign

We regained spirits and appetites with amazing swiftness; the sun came out warm and cheerful, we cleaned

up our quarters and ourselves as best we could, and during the remainder of the voyage were as blithe and

The fun in the cabin was rollicking. The officers had been as sick as the men, but were wonderfully vivacious

when the 'mal du mer' passed off. In the party was a fine glee club, which had been organized at "Camp

Sorgum," the officers' prison at Columbia. Its leader was a Major of the Fifth Iowa Cavalry, who possessed a

marvelously sweet tenor voice, and well developed musical powers. While we were at Wilmington he sang

"When Sherman Marched Down to the Sea," to an audience of soldiers that packed the Opera House densely.

The enthusiasm he aroused was simply indescribable; men shouted, and the tears ran down their faces. He

was recalled time and again, each time with an increase in the furore. The audience would have staid there all

night to listen to him sing that one song. Poor fellow, he only went home to die. An attack of pneumonia

The Glee Club had several songs which they rendered in regular negro minstrel style, and in a way that was

irresistibly ludicrous. One of their favorites was "Billy Patterson." All standing up in a ring, the tenors would

and the baritones, flinging themselves around with the looseness of Christy's Minstrels, in a " break down,"

"Then I'll lay five dollars down, And count them one by one; Then I'll lay five dollars down, If anybody will

And so on. It used to upset my gravity entirely to see a crowd of grave and dignified Captains, Majors and

Colonels going through this nonsensical drollery with all the abandon of professional burntcork artists.

As we were nearing the entrance to Chesapeake Bay we passed a great monitor, who was exercising her crew

at the guns. She fired directly across our course, the huge four hundred pound balls shipping along the water,

about a mile ahead of us, as we boys used to make the flat stones skip in the play of "Ducks and Drakes." One

or two of the shots came so. close that I feared she might be mistaking us for a Rebel ship intent on some raid

up the Bay, and I looked up anxiously to see that the flag should float out so conspicuously that she could not

The next day our vessel ran alongside of the dock at the Naval Academy at Annapolis, that institution now

being used as a hospital for paroled prisoners. The musicians of the Post band came down with stretchers to

carry the sick to the Hospital, while those of us who were able to walk were ordered to fall in and march up.

The distance was but a few hundred yards. On reaching the building we marched up on a little balcony, and

as we did so each one of us was seized by a hospital attendant, who, with the quick dexterity attained by long

practice, snatched every one of our filthy, lousy rags off in the twinkling of an eye, and flung them over the

With them went our faithful little black can, our hoopiron spoon, and our chessboard and men.

Thus entirely denuded, each boy was given a shove which sent him into a little room, where a barber pressed

him down upon a stool, and almost before he understood what was being done, had his hair and beard cut off

as close as shears would do it. Another tap on the back sent the shorn lamb into a room furnished with great

In another minute two men with sponges had removed every trace of prison grime from his body, and passed

him on to two more men, who wiped him dry, and moved him on to where a man handed him a new shirt, a

pair of drawers, pair of socks, pair of pantaloons, pair of slippers, and a hospital gown, and motioned him to

go on into the large room, and array himself in his new garments. Like everything else about the Hospital this

performance was reduced to a perfect system. Not a word was spoken by anybody, not a moment's time lost,

and it seemed to me that it was not ten minutes after I marched up on the balcony, covered with dirt, rags,

vermin, and a matted shock of hair, until I marched out of the room, clean and well clothed. Now I began to

The next thing done was to register our names, rank, regiment, when and where captured, when and where

released. After this we were shown to our rooms. And such rooms as they were. All the old maids in the

country could not have improved their spickspan neatness. The floors were as white as pine plank could be

scoured; the sheets and bedding as clean as cotton and linen and woolen could be washed. Nothing in any

home in the land was any more daintily, wholesomely, unqualifiedly clean than were these little chambers,

Andrews doubted if we could stand all this radical change in our habits. He feared that it was rushing things

too fast. We might have had our hair cut one week, and taken a bath all over a week later, and so progress

down to sleeping between white sheets in the course of six months, but to do it all in one day seemed like

Every turn showed us some new feature of the marvelous order of this wonderful institution. Shortly after we

were sent to our rooms, a Surgeon entered with a Clerk. After answering the usual questions as to name, rank,

company and regiment, the Surgeon examined our tongues, eyes, limbs and general appearance, and

communicated his conclusions to the Clerk, who filled out a blank card. This card was stuck into a little tin

holder at the head of my bed. Andrews's card was the same, except the name. The Surgeon was followed by a

Sergeant, who was Chief of the DiningRoom, and the Clerk, who made a minute of the diet ordered for us,

and moved off. Andrews and I immediately became very solicitous to know what species of diet No. 1 was.

After the seasickness left us our appetites became as ravenous as a buzzsaw, and unless Diet No. 1 was

more than No. 1 in name, it would not fill the bill. We had not long to remain in suspense, for soon another

noncommissioned officer passed through at the head of a train of attendants, bearing trays. Consulting the

list in his hand, he said to one of his followers, " Two No. 1's," and that satellite set down two large plates,

upon each of which were a cup of coffee, a shred of meat, two boiled eggs and a couple of rolls.

"Well," said Andrews, as the procession moved away, "I want to know where this thing's going to stop. I am

trying hard to get used to wearing a shirt without any lice in it, and to sitting down on a chair, and to sleeping

in a clean bed, but when it comes to having my meals sent to my room, I'm afraid I'll degenerate into a

pampered child of luxury. They are really piling it on too strong. Let us see, Mc.; how long's it been since we

were sitting on the sand there in Florence, boiling our pint of meal in that old can?"

"It seems many years, Lale," I said; "but for heaven's sake let us try to forget it as soon as possible. We will

And we did try hard to make the miserable recollections fade out of our minds. When we were stripped on the

balcony we threw away every visible token that could remind us of the hateful experience we had passed

through. We did not retain a scrap of paper or a relic to recall the unhappy past. We loathed everything

The days that followed were very happy ones. The Paymaster came around and paid us each two months' pay

and twentyfive cents a day "ration money" for every day we had been in prison. This gave Andrews and I

about one hundred and sixtyfive dollars apiecean abundance of spending money. Uncle Sam was very

kind and considerate to his soldier nephews, and the Hospital authorities neglected nothing that would add to

our comfort. The superblykept grounds of the Naval Academy were renewing the freshness of their

loveliness under the tender wooing of the advancing Spring, and every step one sauntered through them was a

new delight. A magnificent band gave us sweet music morning and evening. Every dispatch from the South

told of the victorious progress of our arms, and the rapid approach of the close of the struggle. All we had to

do was to enjoy the goods the gods were showering upon us, and we did so with appreciative, thankful hearts.

After awhile all able to travel were given furloughs of thirty days to visit their homes, with instructions to

report at the expiration of their leaves of absence to the camps of rendezvous nearest their homes, and we

Of all those more or less concerned in the barbarities practiced upon our prisoners, but oneCaptain Henry

Wirzwas punished. The Turners, at Richmond; Lieutenant Boisseux, of Belle Isle; Major Gee, of

Salisbury; Colonel Iverson and Lieutenant Barrett, of Florence; and the many brutal miscreants about

Andersonville, escaped scot free. What became of them no one knows; they were never heard of after the

close of the war. They had sense enough to retire into obscurity, and stay there, and this saved their lives, for

each one of them had made deadly enemies among those whom they had maltreated, who, had they known

When the Confederacy went to pieces in April, 1865, Wirz was still at Andersonville. General Wilson,

commanding our cavalry forces, and who had established his headquarters at Macon, Ga., learned of this, and

sent one of his staffCaptain H. E. Noyes, of the Fourth Regular Cavalry with a squad. of men, to arrest

him. This was done on the 7th of May. Wirz protested against his arrest, claiming that he was protected by

the terms of Johnson's surrender, and, addressed the following letter to General Wilson:

GENERAL:It is with great reluctance that I address you these lines, being fully aware how little time is

left you to attend to such matters as I now have the honor to lay before you, and if I could see any other way

to accomplish my object I would not intrude upon you. I am a native of Switzerland, and was before the war a

citizen of Louisiana, and by profession a physician. Like hundreds and thousands of others, I was carried

away by the maelstrom of excitement and joined the Southern army. I was very severely wounded at the

battle of "Seven Pines," near Richmond, Va., and have nearly lost the use of my right arm. Unfit for field

duty, I was ordered to report to Brevet Major General John H. Winder, in charge of the Federal prisoners of

war, who ordered me to take charge of a prison in Tuscaloosa, Ala. My health failing me, I applied for a

furlough and went to Europe, from whence I returned in February, 1864. I was then ordered to report to the

commandant of the military prison at Andersonville, Ga., who assigned me to the command of the interior of

the prison. The duties I had to perform were arduous and unpleasant, and I am satisfied that no man can or

will justly blame me for things that happened here, and which were beyond my power to control. I do not

think that I ought to be held responsible for the shortness of rations, for the overcrowded state of the prison,

(which was of itself a prolific source of fearful mortality), for the inadequate supply of clothing, want of

shelter, etc., etc. Still I now bear the odium, and men who were prisoners have seemed disposed to wreak

their vengeance upon me for what they have sufferedI, who was only the medium, or, I may better say, the

tool in the hands of my superiors. This is my condition. I am a man with a family. I lost all my property when

the Federal army besieged Vicksburg. I have no money at present to go to any place, and, even if I had, I

know of no place where I can go. My life is in danger, and I most respectfully ask of you help and relief. If

you will be so generous as to give me some sort of a safe conduct, or, what I should greatly prefer, a guard to

protect myself and family against violence, I should be thankful to you, and you may rest assured that your

protection will not be given to one who is unworthy of it. My intention is to return with my family to Europe,

as soon as I can make the arrangements. In the meantime I have the honor General, to remain, very

He was kept at Macon, under guard, until May 20, when Captain Noyes was ordered to take him, and the

hospital records of Andersonville, to Washington. Between Macon and Cincinnati the journey was a perfect

Our men were stationed all along the road, and among them everywhere were exprisoners, who recognized

Wirz, and made such determined efforts to kill him that it was all that Captain Noyes, backed by a strong

guard, could do to frustrate them. At Chattanooga and Nashville the struggle between his guards and his

At Louisville, Noyes had Wirz cleanshaved, and dressed in a complete suit of black, with a beaver hat,

which so altered his appearance that no one recognized him after that, and the rest of the journey was made

The authorities at Washington ordered that he be tried immediately, by a court martial composed of Generals

Lewis Wallace, Mott, Geary, L. Thomas, Fessenden, Bragg and Baller, Colonel Allcock, and

LieutenantColonel Stibbs. Colonel Chipman was Judge Advocate, and the trial began August 23.

The prisoner was arraigned on a formidable list of charges and specifications, which accused him of

"combining, confederating, and conspiring together with John H. Winder, Richard B. Winder, Isaiah II.

White, W. S. Winder, R. R. Stevenson and others unknown, to injure the health and destroy the lives of

soldiers in the military service of the United States, there held, and being prisoners of war within the lines of

the socalled Confederate States, and in the military prisons thereof, to the end that the armies of the United

States might be weakened and impaired, in violation of the laws and customs of war." The main facts of the

dense overcrowding, the lack of sufficient shelter, the hideous mortality were cited, and to these added a

long list of specific acts of brutality, such as hunting men down with hounds, tearing them with dogs, robbing

them, confining them in the stocks, cruelly beating and murdering them, of which Wirz was personally guilty.

When the defendant was called upon to plead he claimed that his case was covered by the terms of Johnston's

surrender, and furthermore, that the country now being at peace, he could not be lawfully tried by a court

martial. These objections being overruled, he entered a plea of not guilty to all the charges and specifications.

The prosecution called Captain Noyes first, who detailed the circumstances of Wirz's arrest, and denied that

The next witness was Colonel George C. Gibbs, who commanded the troops of the post at Andersonville. He

testified that Wirz was the commandant of the prison, and had sole authority under Winder over all the

prisoners; that there was a Dead Line there, and orders to shoot any one who crossed it; that dogs were kept

to hunt down escaping prisoners; the dogs were the ordinary plantation dogs, mixture of hound and cur.

Dr. J. C. Bates, who was a Surgeon of the Prison Hospital, (a Rebel), testified that the condition of things in

his division was horrible. Nearly naked men, covered with lice, were dying on all sides. Many were lying in

He went on and described the terrible condition of mendying from scurvy, diarrhea, gangrenous sores, and

lice. He wanted to carry in fresh vegetables for the sick, but did not dare, the orders being very strict against

such thing. He thought the prison authorities might easily have sent in enough green corn to have stopped the

scurvy; the miasmatic effluvia from the prison was exceedingly offensive and poisonous, so much so that

when the surgeons received a slight scratch on their persons, they carefully covered it up with court plaster,

A number of other Rebel Surgeons testified to substantially the same facts. Several residents of that section of

In addition to these, about one hundred and fifty Union prisoners were examined, who testified to all manner

of barbarities which had come under their personal observation. They had all seen Wirz shoot men, had seen

him knock sick and crippled men down and stamp upon them, had been run down by him with hounds, etc.

Their testimony occupies about two thousand pages of manuscript, and is, without doubt, the most, terrible

The taking of this testimony occupied until October 18, when the Government decided to close the case, as

The prisoner presented a statement in which he denied that there had been an accomplice in a conspiracy of

John H. Winder and others, to destroy the lives of United States soldiers; he also denied that there had been

such a conspiracy, but made the pertinent inquiry why he alone, of all those who were charged with the

conspiracy, was brought to trial. He said that Winder has gone to the great judgment seat, to answer for all his

thoughts, words and deeds, and surely I am not to be held culpable for them. General Howell Cobb has

received the pardon of the President of the United States." He further claimed that there was no principle of

law which would sanction the holding of hima mere subordinate guilty, for simply obeying, as literally

He denied all the specific acts of cruelty alleged against him, such as maltreating and killing prisoners with

his own hands. The prisoners killed for crossing the Dead Line, he claimed, should not be charged against

him, since they were simply punished for the violation of a known order which formed part of the discipline,

he believed, of all military prisons. The statement that soldiers were given a furlough for killing a Yankee

prisoner, was declared to be "a mere idle, absurd camp rumor." As to the lack of shelter, room and rations for

so many prisoners, he claimed that the sole responsibility rested upon the Confederate Government. There

never were but two prisoners whipped by his order, and these were for sufficient cause. He asked the Court to

consider favorably two important items in his defense: first, that he had of his own accord taken the drummer

boys from the Stockade, and placed them where they could get purer air and better food. Second, that no

property taken from prisoners was retained by him, but was turned over to the Prison Quartermaster.

The Court, after due deliberation, declared the prisoner guilty on all the charges and specifications save two

unimportant ones, and sentenced him to be hanged by the neck until dead, at such time and place as the

November 3 President Johnson approved of the sentence, and ordered Major General C. C. Augur to carry the

same into effect on Friday, November 10, which was done. The prisoner made frantic appeals against the

sentence; he wrote imploring letters to President Johnson, and lying ones to the New York News, a Rebel

paper. It is said that his wife attempted to convey poison to him, that he might commit suicide and avoid the

ignomy of being hanged. When all hope was gone he nerved himself up to meet his fate, and died, as

thousands of other scoundrels have, with calmness. His body was buried in the grounds of the Old Capitol

Prison, alongside of that of Azterodt, one of the accomplices in the assassination of President Lincoln.

I have endeavored to tell the foregoing story as calmly, as dispassionately, as free from vituperation and

prejudice as possible. How well I have succeeded the reader must judge. How difficult this moderation has

been at times only those know who, like myself, have seen, from day to day, the treasonsharpened fangs of

Starvation and Disease gnaw nearer and nearer to the hearts of wellbeloved friends and comrades. Of the

sixtythree of my company comrades who entered prison with me, but eleven, or at most thirteen, emerged

alive, and several of these have since died from the effects of what they suffered. The mortality in the other

companies of our battalion was equally great, as it was also with the prisoners generally. Not less than

twentyfive thousand gallant, noblehearted boys died around me between the dates of my capture and

release. Nobler men than they never died for any cause. For the most part they were simpleminded,

honesthearted boys; the sterling products of our Northern homelife, and Northern Common Schools, and

that grand stalwart Northern blood, the yeoman blood of sturdy middle class freementhe blood of the race

which has conquered on every field since the Roman Empire went down under its sinewy blows. They prated

little of honor, and knew nothing of "chivalry" except in its repulsive travesty in the South. As citizens at

home, no honest labor had been regarded by them as too humble to be followed with manly pride in its

success; as soldiers in the field, they did their duty with a calm defiance of danger and death, that the world

has not seen equaled in the six thousand years that men have followed the trade of war. In the prison their

conduct was marked by the same unostentatious but unflinching heroism. Death stared them in the face

constantly. They could read their own fate in that of the loathsome, unburied dead all around them. Insolent

enemies mocked their sufferings, and sneered at their devotion to a Government which they asserted had

abandoned them, but the simple faith, the ingrained honesty of these plainmannered, plainspoken boys

rose superior to every trial. Brutus, the noblest Roman of them all, says in his grandest flight:

Set honor in one eye and death in the other, And I will look on both indifferently.

They did not say this: they did it. They never questioned their duty; no repinings, no murmurings against their

Government escaped their lips, they took the dread fortunes brought to them as calmly, as unshrinkingly as

they had those in the field; they quailed not, nor wavered in their faith before the worst the Rebels could do.

The finest epitaph ever inscribed above a soldier's grave was that graven on the stone which marked the

Go, stranger, to Lacedaemon, And tell Sparta that we lie here in obedience to her laws.

They who lie in the shallow graves of Andersonville, Belle Isle, Florence and Salisbury, lie there in

obedience to the precepts and maxims inculcated into their minds in the churches and Common Schools of

the North; precepts which impressed upon them the duty of manliness and honor in all the relations and

exigencies of life; not the "chivalric" prate of their enemies, but the calm steadfastness which endureth to the

end. The highest tribute that can be paid them is to say they did full credit to their teachings, and they died as

every American should when duty bids him. No richer heritage was ever bequeathed to posterity.

It was in the year 1864, and the first three months of 1865 that these twentyfive thousand youths mere

cruelly and needlessly done to death. In these fatal fifteen months more young men than today form the

pride, the hope, and the vigor of any one of our leading Cities, more than at the beginning of the war were

found in either of several States in the Nation, were sent to their graves, "unknelled, uncoffined, and

unknown," victims of the most barbarous and unnecessary cruelty recorded since the Dark Ages. Barbarous,

because the wit of man has not yet devised a more savage method of destroying fellowbeings than by

exposure and starvation; unnecessary, because the destruction of these had not, and could not have the

slightest effect upon the result of the struggle. The Rebel leaders have acknowledged that they knew the fate

of the Confederacy was sealed when the campaign of 1864 opened with the North displaying an unflinching

determination to prosecute the war to a successful conclusion. All that they could hope for after that was

some fortuitous accident, or unexpected foreign recognition that would give them peace with victory. The

prisoners were nonimportant factors in the military problem. Had they all been turned loose as soon as

captured, their efforts would not have hastened the Confederacy's fate a single day.

As to the responsibility for this monstrous cataclysm of human misery and death: That the great mass of the

Southern people approved of these outrages, or even knew of them, I do not, for an instant, believe. They are

as little capable of countenancing such a thing as any people in the world. But the crowning blemish of

Southern society has ever been the dumb acquiescence of the many respectable, welldisposed,

rightthinking people in the acts of the turbulent and unscrupulous few. From this direful spring has flowed

an Iliad of unnumbered woes, not only to that section but to our common country. It was this that kept the

South vibrating between patriotism and treason during the revolution, so that it cost more lives and treasure to

maintain the struggle there than in all the rest of the country. It was this that threatened the dismemberment of

the Union in 1832. It was this that aggravated and envenomed every wrong growing out of Slavery; that

outraged liberty, debauched citizenship, plundered the mails, gagged the press, stiffled speech, made opinion

a crime, polluted the free soil of God with the unwilling step of the bondman, and at last crowned

threequarters of a century of this unparalleled iniquity by dragging eleven millions of people into a war

from which their souls revolted, and against which they had declared by overwhelming majorities in every

State except South Carolina, where the people had no voice. It may puzzle some to understand how a

relatively small band of political desperados in each State could accomplish such a momentous wrong; that

they did do it, no one conversant with our history will deny, and that theyinsignificant as they were in

numbers, in abilities, in character, in everything save capacity and indomitable energy in mischiefcould

achieve such gigantic wrongs in direct opposition to the better sense of their communities is a fearful

Men capable of doing all that the Secession leaders were guilty ofboth before and during the warwere

quite capable of revengefully destroying twentyfive thousand of their enemies by the most hideous means at

their command. That they did so set about destroying their enemies, wilfully, maliciously, and with malice

prepense and aforethought, is susceptible of proof as conclusive as that which in a criminal court sends

1. The terrible mortality at Andersonville and elsewhere was a matter of as much notoriety throughout the

Southern Confederacy as the military operations of Lee and Johnson. No intelligent manmuch less the

2. Had the Rebel leaders within a reasonable time after this matter became notorious made some show of

inquiring into and alleviating the deadly misery, there might be some excuse for them on the ground of lack

of information, and the plea that they did as well as they could would have some validity. But this state of

affairs was allowed to continue over a yearin fact until the downfall of the Confederacywithout a hand

being raised to mitigate the horrors of those placeswithout even an inquiry being made as to whether they

were mitigable or not. Still worse: every month saw the horrors thicken, and the condition of the prisoners

The suffering in May, 1864, was more terrible than in April; June showed a frightful increase over May,

while words fail to paint the horrors of July and August, and so the wretchedness waxed until the end, in

3. The main causes of suffering and death were so obviously preventible that the Rebel leaders could not have

been ignorant of the ease with which a remedy could be applied. These main causes were three in number:

a. Improper and insufficient food. b. Unheardof crowding together. c. Utter lack of shelter.

It is difficult to say which of these three was the most deadly. Let us admit, for the sake of argument, that it

was impossible for the Rebels to supply sufficient and proper food. This admission, I know, will not stand for

an instant in the face of the revelations made by Sherman's March to the Sea; and through the Carolinas, but

let that pass, that we may consider more easily demonstrable facts connected with the next two propositions,

the first of which is as to the crowding together. Was land so scarce in the Southern Confederacy that no

more than sixteen acres could be spared for the use of thirtyfive thousand prisoners? The State of Georgia

has a population of less than onesixth that of New York, scattered over a territory onequarter greater than

that State's, and yet a pitiful little tractless than the cornpatch "clearing" of the laziest "cracker" in the

Statewas all that could be allotted to the use of threeandahalf times ten thousand young men! The

average population of the State does not exceed sixteen to the square mile, yet Andersonville was peopled at

the rate of one million four hundred thousand to the square mile. With millions of acres of unsettled, useless,

worthless pine barrens all around them, the prisoners were wedged together so closely that there was scarcely

room to lie down at night, and a few had space enough to have served as a grave. This, too, in a country

where the land was of so little worth that much of it had never been entered from the Government.

Then, as to shelter and fire: Each of the prisons was situated in the heart of a primeval forest, from which the

first trees that had ever been cut were those used in building the pens. Within a gunshot of the perishing

men was an abundance of lumber and wood to have built every man in prison a warm, comfortable hut, and

enough fuel to supply all his wants. Supposing even, that the Rebels did not have the labor at hand to convert

these forests into building material and fuel, the prisoners themselves would have gladly undertaken the

work, as a means of promoting their own comfort, and for occupation and exercise. No tools would have been

too poor and clumsy for them to work with. When logs were occasionally found or brought into prison, men

tore them to pieces almost with their naked fingers. Every prisoner will bear me out in the assertion that there

was probably not a root as large as a bit of clothesline in all the ground covered by the prisons, that eluded

the faithfully eager search of freezing men for fuel. What else than deliberate design can account for this

systematic withholding from the prisoners of that which was so essential to their existence, and which it was

This much for the circumstantial evidence connecting the Rebel authorities with the premeditated plan for

The first feature is the assignment to the command of the prisons of "General" John H. Winder, the

confidential friend of Mr. Jefferson Davis, and a man so unscrupulous, cruel and bloodythirsty that at the

time of his appointment he was the most hated and feared man in the Southern Confederacy. His odious

administration of the odious office of Provost Marshal General showed him to be fittest of tools for their

purpose. Their selectionconsidering the end in view, was eminently wise. Baron Haynau was made

eternally infamous by a fraction of the wanton cruelties which load the memory of Winder. But it can be said

in extenuation of Haynau's offenses that he was a brave, skilful and energetic soldier, who overthrew on the

field the enemies he maltreated. If Winder, at any time during the war, was nearer the front than Richmond,

history does not mention it. Haynau was the bastard son of a German Elector and of the daughter of a village,

druggist. Winder was the son of a sham aristocrat, whose cowardice and incompetence in the war of 1812

It is sufficient indication of this man's character that he could look unmoved upon the terrible suffering that

prevailed in Andersonville in June, July, and August; that he could see three thousand men die each month in

the most horrible manner, without lifting a finger in any way to assist them; that he could call attention in a

selfboastful way to the fact that "I am killing off more Yankees than twenty regiments in Lee's Army," and

that he could respond to the suggestions of the horrorstruck visiting Inspector that the prisoners be given at

least more room, with the assertion that he intended to leave matters just as they werethe operations of

death would soon thin out the crowd so that the survivors would have sufficient room.

The officers on duty and in charge of the Battery of Florida Artillery at the time will, upon receiving notice

that the enemy has approached within seven miles of this post, open upon the Stockade with grapeshot,

Diabolical is the only word that will come at all near fitly characterizing such an infamous order. What must

have been the nature of a man who would calmly order twentyfive guns to be opened with grape and

canister at two hundred yards range, upon a mass of thirty thousand prisoners, mostly sick and dying! All

this, rather than suffer them to be rescued by their friends. Can there be any terms of reprobation sufficiently

strong to properly denounce so malignant a monster? History has no parallel to him, save among the

bloodreveling kings of Dahomey, or those sanguinary Asiatic chieftains who built pyramids of human

skulls, and paved roads with men's bones. How a man bred an American came to display such a Timourlike

thirst for human life, such an Oriental contempt for the sufferings of others, is one of the mysteries that

If the Rebel leaders who appointed this man, to whom he reported direct, without intervention of superior

officers, and who were fully informed of all his acts through other sources than himself, were not responsible

for him, who in Heaven's name was? How can there be a possibility that they were not cognizant and

The Rebels have attempted but one defense to the terrible charges against them, and that is, that our

Government persistently refused to exchange, preferring to let its men rot in prison, to yielding up the Rebels

it held. This is so utterly false as to be absurd. Our Government made overture after overture for exchange to

the Rebels, and offered to yield many of the points of difference. But it could not, with the least

(consideration for its own honor, yield up the negro soldiers and their officers to the unrestrained brutality of

the Rebel authorities, nor could it, consistent with military prudence, parole the one hundred thousand

wellfed, wellclothed, ablebodied Rebels held by it as prisoners, and let them appear inside of a week in

front of Grant or Sherman. Until it would agree to do this the Rebels would not agree to exchange, and the

only motivesave revengewhich could have inspired the Rebel maltreatment of the prisoners, was the

expectation of raising such a clamor in the North as would force the Government to consent to a

disadvantageous exchange, and to give back to the Confederacy, at its most critical period one hundred

thousand fresh, ablebodied soldiers. It was for this purpose, probably, that our Government and the Sanitary

Commission were refused all permission to send us food and clothing. For my part, and I know I echo the

feelings of ninetynine out of every hundred of my comrades, I would rather have staid in prison till I rotted,

than that our Government should have yielded to the degrading demands of insolent Rebels.

There is one document in the possession of the Government which seems to me to be unanswerable proof,

both of the settled policy of the Richmond Government towards the Union prisoners, and of the relative

merits of Northern and Southern treatment of captives. The document is a letter reading as follows:

SIR:A flagoftruce boat has arrived with three hundred and fifty political prisoners, General Barrow and

I wish you to send me on four o'clock Wednesday morning, all the military prisoners (except officers), and all

the political prisoners you have. If any of the political prisoners have on hand proof enough to convict them

of being spies, or of having committed other offenses which should subject them to punishment, so state

opposite their names. Also, state whether you think, under all the circumstances, they should be released. The

arrangement I have made works largely in our favor. WE GET RID OF A SET OF MISERABLE

Tell Captain Turner to put down on the list of political prisoners the names of Edward P. Eggling, and

Eugenia Hammermister. The President is anxious that they should get off. They are here now. This, of

course, is between ourselves. If you have any political prisoners whom you can send off safely to keep her

But, supposing that our Government, for good military reasons, or for no reason at all, declined to exchange

prisoners, what possible excuse is that for slaughtering them by exquisite tortures? Every Government has ap

unquestioned right to decline exchanging when its military policy suggests such a course; and such

declination conveys no right whatever to the enemy to slay those prisoners, either outright with the edge of

the sword, or more slowly by inhuman treatment. The Rebels' attempts to justify their conduct, by the claim

that our Government refused to accede to their wishes in a certain respect, is too preposterous to be made or

The whole affair is simply inexcusable, and stands out a foul blot on the memory of every Rebel in high place

"Vengeance is mine," saith the Lord, and by Him must this great crime be avenged, if it ever is avenged. It

certainly transcends all human power. I have seen little indication of any Divine interposition to mete out, at

least on this earth, adequate punishment to those who were the principal agents in that iniquity. Howell Cobb

died as peacefully in his bed as any Christian in the land, and with as few apparent twinges of remorse as if

he had spent his life in good deeds and prayer. The archfiend Winder died in equal tranquility, murmuring

some cheerful hope as to his soul's future. Not one of the ghosts of his hungerslain hovered around to

embitter his dying moments, as he had theirs. Jefferson Davis "still lives, a prosperous gentleman," the idol of

a large circle of adherents, the recipient of real estate favors from elderly females of morbid sympathies, and

a man whose mouth is full of plaints of his wrongs, and misappreciation. The rest of the leading conspirators

have either departed this life in the odor of sanctity, surrounded by sorrowing friends, or are gliding serenely

Only Wirzsmall, insignificant, miserable Wirz, the underling, the tool, the servile, brainless, little

fetcherandcarrier of these men, was punishedwas hanged, and upon the narrow shoulders of this pitiful

scapegoat was packed the entire sin of Jefferson Davis and his crew. What a farce!

A petty little Captain made to expiate the crimes of Generals, Cabinet Officers, and a President. How absurd!

But I do not ask for vengeance. I do not ask for retribution for one of those thousands of dead comrades, the

glitter of whose sightless eyes will follow me through life. I do not desire even justice on the still living

authors and accomplices in the deep damnation of their taking off. I simply ask that the great sacrifices of my

dead comrades shall not be suffered to pass unregarded to irrevocable oblivion; that the example of their

heroic selfabnegation shall not be lost, but the lesson it teaches be preserved and inculcated into the minds

of their fellowcountrymen, that future generations may profit by it, and others be as ready to die for right

and honor and good government as they were. And it seems to me that if we are to appreciate their virtues,

we must loathe and hold up to opprobrium those evil men whose malignity made all their sacrifices

necessary. I cannot understand what good selfsacrifice and heroic example are to serve in this world, if they

are to be followed by such a maudlin confusion of ideas as now threatens to obliterate all distinction between

the men who fought and died for the Right and those who resisted them for the Wrong.