ANDERSONVILLE--SEPARATED FROM THE ENLISTED MEN--AN INTERVIEW WITH THE
INHUMAN MONSTER "WIRZ"--PLACED IN A CHURCH--DIVINE SERVICE SUNDAY
MORNING--SENT BACK TO MACON--DRAWING RATIONS--A BLIND-FOLDED MAN DIVIDES
THEM--LADIES VISIT OUR CAMP AND SHOW THEIR SYMPATHY--UNION GIRLS
FOREVER--BOUQUETS AND NOTES SENT US--A DRUNKEN RIOT--RECKLESS SHOOTING OF
THE GUARDS--PRICES OF PROVISIONS IN MACON.
Andersonville, one year before, had never been heard of a hundred miles
away, but is now a place whose name is associated with all that is
revolting, a place whose name is synonymous with suffering, hunger,
starvation, despair and death. A place the recollection of which recalls,
with a chill of horror, the most terrible scenes of anguish that were ever
suffered or beheld. A place whose history can never be fully written. For
were all the survivors of that Confederate Hell, presided over by that
incarnate fiend, Wirz, capable of portraying the horrors they had endured
there, it would still remain for the fifteen thousands, whose emaciated
forms passed through its gates to their final rest, to write up the
history of the torments through which THEY passed during so many days of
agony and wretchedness, of suffering, despair and death, before the
history would be complete and the "finis" affixed. Thank God I was not
doomed to be a resident of this charnal house, where out of eighty-five
of my brave comrades who belonged to our detachment of cavalry, and who
were destined to suffer its blood-curdling horrors, only eighteen ever
lived to relate the tales of fiendish cruelty to which they were obliged
to submit.
On the plateau in front of the pen the officers and enlisted men were
separated, as no officers were held in Andersonville, except a few who
commanded colored troops, whose rank would not be recognized by such
GENTLEMEN (?) as Wirz and his aids. Though I had heard much of the
hardships of Andersonville, I then had no idea what the real horrors were,
and after being separated I called Sergeant Cunningham towards me, was
talking to him about caring for them, and endeavoring to maintain
discipline as far as he could, when a Dutchman, mounted on a white horse,
rode up with a cocked revolver in his hand and ordered him, with a
terrible oath, to "Git back dere in de ranks, and if you come oud again I
blow your tam head off."
Having up to this time been treated with the respect supposed to be due an
officer, I must say that I was not quite prepared for such a bombastic
display of authority. The ludicrous gestures and evident bravado of the
man (for I believed then, and do now, that he was a craven coward) only
caused me to laugh as I told him that the place for men who were fond of
shooting was at the front; that I called my Sergeant out of the ranks and
was alone to blame for his leaving his place in the line. Knowing
Sergeant Cosgrove (or Cunningham, as his right name was, he having, as he
told me on leaving the service, enlisted under an assumed name), and
having been with him in places that tried what kind of stuff men were made
of, I could understand the look of contempt with which he quietly took his
place again in the line.
After the enlisted men had been sent to the pen, the officers were
conducted to a small church, or rather chapel, on the opposite side of the
road, where we remained over night. We were not very closely guarded, and
if there had been a probability of getting through I could have got away,
for I went some distance alone to a house and bought some milk, and had a
supper of hard tack and milk. The next morning I again went out and bought
some beefsteak and milk for breakfast. This being Sunday, Chaplain Dixon
held divine service in the little church, preaching from the text, "I have
been young and now am old, yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken nor
his seed begging bread." The service was held immediately after breakfast,
and at ten o'clock we were on board the cars, again headed for Macon,
where we arrived at 4 p. m. We were placed in Camp Oglethorp, a fair
ground, and were furnished with shelter tents, no stockade having then
been built there, and were furnished with rations of salt pork and corn
bread. Here for the first time our rations were furnished in bulk, and we
divided them ourselves. It was here that I first witnessed the amusing
spectacle of a blindfolded man dividing rations.
The manner was this: The bacon would be cut into as many pieces as there
were men in the mess, and as nearly equal as possible, then a man was
blindfolded, and as the officer of the mess touched a piece of meat he
would say, "Who shall have this?" and the blindfolded man would name one
of the mess, and so on until all were served.
I was now out of money, but I had brought along an extra pair of shoes and
quite a supply of extra clothing, so I sold my shoes to Captain Freeman
for ten dollars Confederate money and two dollars in greenbacks, which was
about as much more. I bought with this money six radishes for one dollar,
a pound of rye coffee for three dollars, and a pound of sugar for ten
dollars, so that all I had for my shoes was these three articles, which
could be had to-day for ten cents, and six dollars of Confederate money
which amounted to about one dollar in greenbacks.
Many ladies visited our camp, some coming out of mere curiosity and to see
what the Yankee officers looked like, for in Macon, at this time, Yankee
soldiers were not as common as they were when the war closed. The march
through Georgia had then not been made and "Sherman's bummers" were not
yet known.
Some seemed to openly sympathize with us, and brought us books and
bouquets of beautiful flowers. One young lady--Maggie Langley--handed me a
bouquet, in the centre of which I found concealed a note giving her
address, and saying that if I should make my escape, to come to their
house and they would conceal me until I could get away. Lieut. Fish, of
the 2d Massachusetts Heavy Artillery, received a book from a couple of
ladies named Richardson bearing a similar note on one of the fly leaves.
Thus early we found that although we were held as prisoners by a hostile
enemy, we were still in the midst of sympathizing friends.
Having so recently come from Plymouth, where we had been in garrison, we
were dressed in our best uniforms, and being all officers, we, of course,
presented a very creditable appearance. The Misses Richardson spoken of,
said they were natives of New York State, and were heartily in sympathy
with the North.
There was a stream that ran through the camp grounds, in which it was my
daily habit to bathe. In fact, during all my prison life, I never
neglected an opportunity to take a bath whenever I could get a chance to
do so. To this I attribute, more than anything else, the good health I
enjoyed during nearly all the time spent in Southern prisons.
I do not mean to say by this, that bathing would have saved the lives of
all, or any great proportion of those who died in prison, but I do say
that when the facilities of cleanliness were afforded us, there was a
notable decrease in the mortality.
Hence the difference in the mortality of the officers' prisons and those
of the enlisted men, where bathing was impossible. Had our men in
Andersonville been placed in good, roomy, clean quarters, through which
flowed a good stream of pure running water, thousands who now sleep in
that densely populated city of the Union dead, would now be here to relate
the sufferings and privations they endured. It was not altogether the
insufficiency of food that killed off those true-hearted patriots, but the
need of wholesome quarters, and the facilities for cleanliness as well.
There is nothing so invigorating to the system as a daily bath in pure,
cold water, and on the other hand there is nothing more debilitating, or
conducive to disease and death, than crowded and filthy quarters, without
the necessary sanitary conveniences to permit the enjoyment of this
invigorating luxury.
On the 7th a fire broke out, and nearly all of the guards who were on duty
at the time, went to town; when they returned they were drunk, and for a
time it looked as though we would have to turn out and assist in their
arrest. Guns and pistols were used, and the bullets came whizzing over our
heads in the most reckless manner. This, of course, was very interesting
for us, who were obliged to lie in our tents, surrounded with armed men,
and take all the chances of a fight without being able to participate in
it. The melee finally ended by four of the guards who were crazy drunk,
being bucked and gagged to keep them quiet.
On the third day of May, twenty-nine officers were brought into camp, who
had been taken at Chattanooga. This gave us some news from our western
army, and for a day seemed to divert our minds. I see by a diary kept by
me in prison, that on that day I paid ten dollars for a coffee pot, and
three dollars for a cup, and on the 5th of May I bought one quart of
strawberries for three dollars, and four dozen eggs for ten dollars. This
was for our mess, which consisted of Captain R. B. Hock, 12th New York
Cavalry, Captain Cady, 24th New York Independent Battery, and myself. I
make this statement for fear some one who had kept track of my receipts
and expenses, would think I was buying too much with the money received
from the sale of that pair of shoes, and I will say here, although it may
seem paradoxical, that although I had when I arrived at Macon, only one
dollar in Greenbacks and a ten dollar North Carolina bill, still I spent
while in prison, over ten thousand dollars in Confederate money, and got
it all honestly too. And I wish to say here, that I had enough to eat
nearly all the time I was a prisoner. We were always pleased to welcome
new arrivals, for then we could get news from our armies that we could
rely upon, and were cheered to hear by every _fresh fish_ that came, that
our bully boy Grant was pushing Lee back on to Richmond, and that
Petersburgh was beseiged. New arrivals were almost daily coming in, and we
always crowded about them to hear the latest news from the front. It was
noticeable that every one gave us something that was cheerful. Never
while I was a prisoner did I hear any doubt expressed as to the ultimate
result, either by those Union prisoners or the new arrivals. Naturally of
a hopeful and cheerful disposition, and always looking upon the bright
side of every question, I (to use a slang phrase) soon "tumbled to the
situation," and tried to accommodate myself to the circumstances that
surrounded me.
I found that in prison, as at home, there were some who were fitted for
one thing and some for another. The same adaptability for different
pursuits were found there as are found in our home every day life. There
were mechanics, tradesmen, artists and laborers. Some could take beef
bones and out of them fashion all manner of beautiful trinkets, such as
napkin rings, bibles, crochet needles, etc., others could make pencil
sketches of the different scenes that were daily witnessed, portraits of
prisoners, sketches of the different portions of the stockade and
quarters. Others were better adapted to buying and selling, and still
others could repair or make shoes. I remember seeing one pair of shoes
made that I must describe. The sole was shaped out of a piece of pine
board or plank, and the uppers were made out of an old pair of boot legs;
a groove was made entirely around the sole, and the leather pegged on, so
that the sole came out about half an inch each side, making a really
artistic pair of shoes, and durable too, fastened together with wooden
pegs whittled out by hand. I had a pair of slippers made out of the cape
of my overcoat that were not only comfortable, but serviceable as well,
and not at all bad looking. In this prison every trade was represented and
nearly all were plied to some extent, sometimes for the purpose of gaining
a living and sometimes to keep the mind occupied, and to make their
quarters more comfortable.
As for myself, having up to the time of entering the service been a
salesman, I found this to be my most profitable vocation. I sold on
commission; I see by referring to a diary kept by me during my
imprisonment, that on the 11th of May I sold a pair of gauntlets for one
officer for twenty dollars and another pair for twenty-five dollars; also
a hat for Lieutenant Hastings, 24th New York Independent Battery, for
twenty dollars. By thus selling for others who could not sell such
articles, or buying of them and selling to the Johnnies, I could make
enough, with an occasional sale of some of my own surplus stock, to buy
enough provisions to add to my drawn rations to make myself quite
comfortable most of the time. I was always fond of a good meal, and I fear
when I give a list of what I bought and the price I paid, the reader will
think I had rather extravagant notions in this respect. For instance, one
day I paid fifteen dollars for a beef shank and fifty-six dollars for a
smoked ham, five dollars for a dozen eggs, and three seventy-five for a
cabbage, and was offered peas in the pod at one dollar a quart, but I
thought this would be rather too rich for my blood and postponed the
purchase, hoping for a decline in the market. Now do not think that I ate
all of this myself. There were three of us in the mess, and I did the
buying and cooking for the party. The above purchase was only one of many,
but will serve to show how much it cost us to live. When it is considered
that five dollars in Confederate money was only equal to one dollar in
greenbacks, and that a dollar greenback was only about forty cents in
gold, it will be conceded that the price paid after all was not so very
high, especially when it is remembered the scarcity of provisions at that
time, May, 1864; for instance, the ham, for which I paid fifty-six dollars
was only four dollars and fifty cents.