OFF FOR CHARLESTON—ALLEGED RETALIATION—ON
SHIPBOARD—RUN AGROUND—SHORT OF
WATER—ON MORRIS ISLAND—IN STOCKADE—UNDER
FIRE—PRISON RULES
I remained at Fort Delaware until the 20th of August, 1864. Some time
previous to this, seventy-five field officers confined at Fort Delaware
were selected for retaliation, as the Yankees called it, to be put under
fire of the Confederate guns, on Morris Island in Charleston Harbor.
The Confederates had hospitals in one section of the city of Charleston,
S. C., with yellow flags flying over them. The Yankees, in shelling the
city from their batteries on Morris Island, were in the habit of
shelling these hospitals, and were notified that some of their officers,
who were held as prisoners of war, would be placed in or near the
hospitals. The Yankees did not heed this, but prepared to put
Confederate prisoners under fire of Confederate guns, when firing on
Yankee batteries on Morris Island.
Firing on hospitals, which were designated by yellow flags, was begun by
the Yankees on the 18th of July, 1861, at Blackburn's Ford, and kept up
during the war, contrary to the usage of all civilized nations the world
over.
These seventy-five field officers were taken to Charleston Harbor, but
were not put under fire; instead, they were exchanged for a like number
of Yankee officers.
When orders came to Fort Delaware, soon after this exchange, for 600
field and company officers to be put under fire, there was a general
desire among the prisoners to be one of the 600, but we had no say-so as
to who should go. On the 19th of August, all the prisoners were called
out and formed in line, when 600 names were called, and those on the
list were notified to be ready to embark the next morning for the trip.
Some were so anxious to go that they paid others, whose names had been
called, for the privilege of surreptitiously answering to their names.
One officer gave a fine gold watch, and after remaining away seven
months, and suffering untold privations, was landed back at Fort
Delaware.
ON SHIPBOARD
At the appointed hour on the 20th of August, 1864, the 600 officers
embarked on board the steamer _Crescent_, which steamed away down the
bay, out into the broad Atlantic, and down the coast to Charleston
Harbor, where they were landed on the 7th day of September, having been
eighteen days aboard ship. Capt. Thos. B. Horton and myself were among
the number, also Lieut. Peter B. Akers, of Lynchburg.
It was a nasty trip on board this old freight ship, in the summer-time.
The prisoners were on the lower or freight deck, nearly on the water
line. Two rows of temporary bunks had been built around the sides of the
ship, two tiers high. These bunks were about six feet long and three
feet wide, with two men in each bunk; a pretty close fit, especially if
both occupants were good-sized men. The bunks did not afford sufficient
room for all the prisoners, consequently a good many lay on the floor of
the deck between the bunks. Here the prisoners laid and sweltered
through eighteen days, the boilers running up through the middle, making
it much hotter. I occupied a lower bunk on the inside row with Captain
Horton, who was my messmate while a prisoner; a good fellow he was, too,
and a good soldier. There was a guard of 150 soldiers on board, who
occupied the upper deck. The _Crescent_ was escorted by a gunboat.
RUN AGROUND
Off the coast of South Carolina, before reaching Charleston, one night
the pilot, who was a Southern sympathizer, attempted to run the ship
under the guns of a Confederate battery on the coast, changing the
course of the ship, and heading it for land, but unfortunately ran
aground near some low-lying islands near the coast, not far from, but
not in sight of the mainland. When it was known at dawn of day that the
ship was aground, all hands were aroused. Some of the prisoners who knew
the coast, said the pilot had missed the channel by only a narrow
margin, which led to the Confederate batteries not far away, but not in
sight. Nor was the Yankee gunboat in sight; the pilot had given the
escort the slip in the darkness. It was plain to see that the guards
were very much excited and scared, for they assembled on the top or
hurricane-deck with their guns in their hands. The crew of the
_Crescent_ went to work to get the ship off the sand-bar on which it was
grounded. The prisoners came on deck at will, the guards abandoning
their post at the hatchway, where they had been stationed to keep all
the prisoners below, except a certain number, who were allowed to come
on deck at intervals. All hands were very anxious. Some of the prisoners
consulted and determined to make an effort to capture the ship and
guard. Col. Van Manning, of Arkansas, was the leading spirit in the
movement. I had just come on deck and was standing right by the colonel
while he wrote a note to the Yankee officer who commanded the guard. I
think I can give the note verbatim: "Sir—We hereby demand the surrender
of your guard and this ship. If you comply, you and your men shall be
treated as prisoners of war; if you refuse, you will have to take the
consequences." The plan was to make a rush on the guard and overpower
them by making the attack with such things as were at hand about the
deck, if they refused to surrender. Just as Colonel Manning finished
writing this note, some one looked out to sea and there was the old
gunboat bearing down upon us, and all hope of the capture of the ship
and guard was dashed to the ground. And how quick the demeanor of the
guard changed; before the gunboat appeared they were very much
frightened, and as before said, were gathered together on the upper
deck, taking no control of the prisoners, who came on the deck at will,
but now they were insolent and dictatorial, ordering the prisoners to
assist the crew, and taking control again. The crew pretty soon worked
the ship off the bar and we sailed on down the coast, accompanied by the
gunboat. I have often thought what a good joke it would have been on the
Yankees if we could have captured the ship and guard and taken them all
into port on the coast.
The pilot was at once arrested and put in irons. We learned afterwards
he was court-martialed and given a term at hard labor.
SHORT OF WATER
While on the _Crescent_ the supply of water ran short; then the only
water the prisoners had was sea water condensed in the ships, and issued
out scalding hot in limited quantities. We would pour the hot water from
one tin cup to another until cool enough to swallow without burning the
throat.
Think of it! Nothing but hot water to drink in the month of August on
shipboard on the southern coast. The Yankees had ice on board, but the
prisoners got none of it.
The _Crescent_ steamed on down the coast, passing Charleston Harbor—
preparations to receive the prisoners not being completed—to Port Royal
Sound, where we remained a few days on shipboard. Here two or three
prisoners escaped from the ship in the night-time, by dropping in the
water and swimming ashore. Only one, however, made good his escape.
While here we could see sharks swimming about the ship. It took pretty
good nerve to get in the water and swim for the shore.
IN THE STOCKADE
When the stockade was ready, we went up to Charleston Harbor, landing on
Morris Island, as before said, on the 7th of September, and marched
between two lines of negro soldiers (big black, slick negro fellows they
were) two miles up the island, and into a stockade made of pine logs set
on end in the ground, about twenty feet high, enclosing an acre of
ground. In the stockade were small fly-tents arranged in regular
military order. Four men occupied each tent.
The negro soldiers guarded us—the sentries, on platforms on the outside
of the stockade, about three feet from the top. These sentries would
fire upon the slightest provocation, though I must say that the negro
soldiers treated the prisoners better than the white officers who
commanded them. For these officers the prisoners had a perfect contempt.
They were a low-down, measly set. One Lieut.-Col. William Gurney was in
command, and the most despisable in the lot was he.
While here the rations were scant and sorry. For breakfast, we had three
crackers, sometimes two, and sometimes only one and a half, and a very
small piece of bacon, about two ounces; towards the last, five crackers
per day were issued. For dinner, we had soup made of some kind of dried
peas, about one pint, very unpalatable—for supper, a pint of very thin
mush or rice. The mush was made of stale cornmeal, full of worms. One
prisoner picked out and counted 125 small, black-headed worms from a cup
of this mush. I would pick out worms a while, and then eat the stuff a
while, then pick out more worms until all were gone. Some just devoured
worms and all, saying they could not afford to loose that much of their
rations; that if the worms could stand it, they could. The detestable
Yankee lieutenant-colonel would sometimes come into the camp while we
were devouring the mush and worms and with a contemptible sneer and
Yankee nasal twang, say: "You fellows need fresh meat to keep off
scurvy, so I give it to you in your mush."
One day all the prisoners were taken out of the stockade, marched down
to the wharf and put aboard two old hulks or lighters and towed out in
the bay, where the hulks remained all night. The next morning we were
again landed and marched back to the stockade. I never knew why this was
done, unless it was to search the tents for contraband articles, or to
see if there was any tunneling going on from the tents, in order to
effect escapes. I think some efforts were made at tunneling out, but
without success.
While here we were not allowed to purchase anything to eat from the
sutler unless directed by the surgeon when sick, consequently, every man
was hungry all the while, as a whole day's rations were not sufficient
for one meal. During the time a flag-of-truce boat passed between the
island and Charleston, by which the good women of Charleston sent the
prisoners a good supply of pipes and tobacco, and something good to eat,
which was highly appreciated.
UNDER FIRE
After the prisoners were placed here near the Yankee batteries, so as to
be exposed to the fire of the Confederate guns, the Confederate
batteries did not fire a great deal. What shelling was done was mostly
at night. Some of the shells burst over the stockade and the pieces
would fall around, but I don't remember that any of the prisoners were
hit. It was rather uncomfortable, though, to lie there and watch the big
shells sailing through the air, which we could see at night by the fuse
burning, and sometimes burst above us, instead of bursting in or above
the Yankee forts 100 yards further on, and then listen at the fragments
humming through the air and hear them strike the ground with a dull thud
among the tents. We would first hear a distant boom, two miles away
towards Charleston, and then begin to look and listen for the shell
which was sure to follow that boom. Peter Akers used to say, "That is
trusting too much to the fuse to shoot two miles and expect the shell to
burst 100 hundred yards beyond the stockade."
The prisoners were located about midway between two Yankee forts, Gregg
and Wagner. Through the interstices between the pine logs forming the
stockade, we could see indistinctly Fort Sumter, which looked like a
pile of ruins. The outer walls of brick had been battered to pieces by
the Yankee batteries on Morris Island and the breaks filled up with sand
bags. The city of Charleston was also visible, though indistinctly. We
were not permitted to go near the stockade.
One day a Yankee monitor, which, with other blockading ships, lay near
the entrance of the harbor or bay, moved up about opposite the stockade,
and engaged in a fight with the Confederate batteries. We could see the
Confederate shots strike the water and skip along towards the Monitor,
which pretty soon got enough of it, and moved out of range.
PRISON RULES
I also preserved a copy of the Prison Rules here, which is as follows:
* * * * *
"HEADQUARTERS, U. S. FORCES,
MORRIS ISLAND, S. C.,
_September 7, 1864_.
"The following Rules and Regulations are hereby announced for the
government of the camp of the prisoners of war:
"The prisoners will be divided into eight detachments, seventy-five in
each, lettered A, B, C, etc., each prisoner numbered 1, 2, 3, etc. Each
detachment will be under the charge of a warden, who will be detailed
from the guard for that duty. There will be three roll calls each day,
the first at one-half hour before sunrise, at which time the prisoners
will be counted by the wardens, and the reports will be taken by the
officer of the day at the company streets before the ranks are broken.
Each warden will see that the quarters in his detachment are properly
policed, and will make the detail necessary for that duty. Sick-call
will be at 9 o'clock A. M. each day. Each warden will make a morning
report to the officer in charge on blanks suitable for that purpose.
There will be two barrel sinks for each detachment, which will be placed
on the flanks of the companies during the day and in the company streets
at night. They will be emptied after each roll call by a detail from
each detachment. No talking will be allowed after evening roll call, and
no prisoner will leave his tent after that time except to obey the calls
of nature. During the day the prisoners will be allowed the limits of
the camp as marked by the rope running between the stockade and the line
of tents. Prisoners passing this line under any pretense whatever will
be shot by the sentinels. No persons except the guard and officers on
duty at the camp will be allowed to communicate with the prisoners
without written permission from these or superior headquarters. The
sentinels will always have their guns loaded and capped. If more than
ten prisoners are seen together, except at meal-time and roll call, they
will be warned to disperse, and if they do not obey at once, they will
be fired upon by the sentries.
"If there is any disturbance whatever in the camp or any attempt made by
the prisoners to escape, the camp will be opened upon with grape and
canister, musketry, and the Requa Batteries.
"If a prisoner is sick, he may be allowed to purchase such luxuries as
the surgeon in charge may direct. The prisoners will be allowed to
purchase only the following named articles: Writing materials, pipes,
tobacco, and necessary clothing.
"Everything bought by or sent to them will be inspected by the provost
marshal. The prisoners will be allowed to write letters, one a week, not
more than one-half sheet of paper to each letter. The letters will be
opened and pass through the hands of the provost marshal before being
mailed. No candles or light of any kind will be allowed. The hours for
meals are as follows: Breakfast, 7 A. M.; dinner, 12 M.; supper, 5 P. M.
The rations will be cooked and served under the direction of the provost
marshal.
By order of—
"LIEUT.-COL. WILLIAM GURNEY,
127th Regt. N. Y. Vol., Com. Post.
"R. H. L. JEVOETT,
Capt. 54 Mass. Vol., A. A. A. G."
"Official: GEO. N. LITTLE,
1st. Lt. 127th R. N. Y. V.,
A. A. A. C."