General Logan--General Sherman--Clean at last--General Hobart's
hospitality--Luxurious ease--A ghastly reminder of horrors
escaped--Washington "short"--Ordered back to my regiment--An honorable
discharge.
We were conducted to General Logan's Corps headquarters, were received
by "Black Jack" with the same courtesy we had received at the other
headquarters, and related some of our experience. Once more we were
summoned; this time to see General Sherman. We found the hero seated
by a good hot fire, composed of both rails and railroad ties. We were
introduced to him and his staff and again made to review some of our
late experience while effecting our escape. The general gave us a
little talk, then instructed his adjutant general to give each of us
a pass which would enable us to pass all guards and all patrols until
further orders. The passes being written, General Sherman seated
himself at a table, put his own signature to them and we had the
pleasure of receiving them from his own hand.
After thanking him from the deepest sincerity of our hearts, we
returned to the quarters of the 32d Wisconsin, where we found plenty
of hot water and soap, also some extra clothing which had been found
in some knapsacks, and right there and then we discarded our vermin
filled garments, which had clung to us since our incarceration in old
Libby, gave our bodies a thorough fumigating and scrubbing and arrayed
ourselves in the new clothing given us, after which we looked and felt
more like human beings.
On the morning of the twenty-second, while the regiment was standing
in line waiting their turn to march in the passing column, a carriage
drawn by a matched team of dapple-gray horses and driven by a soldier,
approached and presented us (the Wisconsin escaped prisoners) with
an invitation to come to Brigadier General Hobart's headquarters,
First Brigade, First Division, Fourteenth Army Corps (The Acorn). We
accepted the invitation, took possession of the carriage, and for the
next twenty-four days we had the privilege and pleasure of holding
down those seats on the line of march, which was almost a direct line
northward. At the end of the first day we found General Hobart and
bivouacked with his brigade at a place called Black Stock in North
Carolina, nearly forty miles from Ridgeway Station. General Hobart,
being an old Libbyite who had escaped through a tunnel from the prison
in February, 1864, had a warm spot in his heart for us, and the reader
may rest assured the welcome he gave us was no unmeaning affair; and
the fact that he had furnished the carriage for us on this march gave
emphatic evidence that he was fully aware of the hardships which we had
been through.
The next morning the corps countermarched back into South Carolina, a
distance of fifteen miles, then turned east, leaving the rebel army,
which had been massing in our front, far in the rear. The remainder of
my stay with that army was indeed pleasant, we were so comfortable in
that carriage; besides, when meal time came, we enjoyed the luxuries
of the quartermaster's table and every attention was shown to us which
could in any way add to our interest and pleasure. At the end of the
twenty-fourth day we reached Fayetteville, where we bid adieu to our
carriage and those who had shown us so many courtesies. After a few
preparations we took a boat for Wilmington.
While waiting at Wilmington for the boat we learned there were about
seven hundred ex-prisoners there, enlisted men who were too weak, from
their long confinement and sufferings, to be moved north. I visited
them, thinking that perhaps I might find some one among them who had
been captured with me. On my arrival at the first large warehouse,
where a number of the men were, I went in. And what a horrible sight
greeted my eyes. Instead of men who should have been in the prime of
life and in the full strength of noble manhood I beheld, stretched out
on blankets laid over a little of hay, a number of emaciated forms,
looking more like skeletons than living beings, their eyes sunk in
their sockets, many with no hair on their heads,--all arranged in a
circle around the room with their heads toward the wall. I looked with
horror upon that scene. I searched for faces, or even one face that
was familiar. Alas! they looked at me in utter blankness. I continued
my search and in all that number I found but two who could tell me
their names, and even those two could give me no definite answer or
information other than to name their regiment. My mission was vain, I
could not talk to them; and they could no more answer my questions,
than if they had been six months' old babies. Some of them could and
did laugh; but, oh, such a laugh! It reminded one more of the babbling
of an idiot than that of a sentient, human being. They would roll up
their eyes at me and stare, then turn them in their sockets until the
white appeared, causing indescribable shudders to creep over my frame.
And these beings, when taken into custody by the southern "chivalry,"
were the flower of the best blood and brains in the North. They went
forth to do battle for their country and their flag, in all of the
pride of intelligent manhood, many of them from the best schools and
colleges in the land; others from homes of comfort and affluence, where
wives, mothers and sisters ministered unto them with all the love and
devotion incident to a sacred home and fireside. They went forth to
battle in full command of their strong physical constitutions, only, by
the misfortunes of war, to fall into the hands of a set of men who, by
all the rights of the best Government the sun ever shone upon, should
have been the humane protectors of the fallen foe, but instead thereof
had been more brutal in the treatment of their own fellow-citizens,
victims of the same misfortunes of war, than had ever been dealt out
by the savage Indian tribes of North America, or the cannibal natives
of the Sandwich Islands. What a sad commentary upon the teachings that
had been inculcated into the minds of the youth of those States, to
perpetrate which--the oppression of a down-trodden race--they had
rebelled against and attempted to destroy the Government which had been
founded to provide homes for the poor and oppressed of all nations.
No wonder that God in his wisdom finally overthrew the accursed
institutions that were responsible for these atrocities.
After subduing my wrought-up feelings over the sights I had witnessed,
I called at the quartermaster's office where I was given transportation
on a Government transport to Baltimore and thence by rail to
Washington; also an order to report to a certain officer on my arrival
at the capital city. On reaching Washington I immediately reported as
ordered, but I had to await my turn, being put off from day to day, as
there were so many on the list who preceded me. Many of them were the
same men with whom I had spent my prison life, who had been paroled
and put through the lines and were now settling up their accounts,
receiving their pay and getting their final discharge from the United
States Government.
On reflection I concluded it would be better for me to see how my own
account stood, so I went to the second auditor's office, and lost no
time in having the clerks produce the books. I found that I was "short"
as follows: "One cone wrench, 30 cents; one cap pouch, 35 cents; total,
65 cents." I produced the money to pay the shortage, but was informed
by the clerk that the shortage could not be paid in that way. It then
suddenly occurred to me that the aforesaid accoutrements had been lost
in action, and I made an affidavit to that effect and my account was at
once squared on the books. Since that time I have learned that many an
officer was kept out of his pay for no more trifling thing than to be
found short in the invoice of accoutrements for which he had receipted.
Payment for the same was always rejected until their loss was fully
explained. "Lost in action" was the best and easiest way out of the
dilemma, and, fortunately for me, it let me out very nicely.
After I had reported to the officer every morning for two weeks, I
finally received an envelope. I stepped aside to open it and found,
inclosed, an order for me to report to my regiment within the next
thirty days. As it happened, I had not been paroled, consequently I
was still in the service of the army. The thirty days gave me ample
opportunity to visit my friends, and I enjoyed my leave of absence very
much. During that short period Lee had surrendered, Johnson was trying
to dictate terms for capitulation and--the bloody contest was over.
When the thirty days were up I found my regiment at Burke's station,
near Appomattox, from whence we immediately returned to Washington,
where I marched with my regiment in review. After that, ten of the
western regiments were cut out of the Army of the Potomac, organized
into a separate division by themselves and placed under the command
of Brigadier General John A. Morrill, formerly colonel of the 24th
Michigan. My division reported to Major General John A. Logan,
at Louisville, Ky., where we remained for a time, then went to
Jeffersonville, Indiana, where I was mustered out of my regiment, July
3, 1865. We then went to Madison, Wisconsin, and on September 15th, I
received my final parchment.
I had served three years and eleven months south of the Mason and Dixon
line and worn a soldier's uniform for four years and two months. When
our regiment was first equipped we were clothed in gray, but later, in
common with all other soldiers under the Stars and Stripes, we were
given the blue, and that was our color to the end of the service.
While with General Morrill I had the honor of being assigned to his
staff and signing my name as A.A. D.C. (acting assistant aid-de-camp),
serving in the saddle and on duty. I frequently visited General Logan's
headquarters, at Louisville, Ky., and, had the war lasted two weeks
longer than it did, I would have received a major's commission. As it
was, when I received my final discharge I donned citizens' dress and
returned again to the county and state which I had represented with
pride and honor, believing that I had only done my duty as a soldier
should. I had obeyed orders.
C.M. PRUTSMAN.
Lexington, Nebraska, December 22, 1900.