1864.
PRISON LIFE OF THE OFFICERS.
I shall not in this chapter pretend to give a complete history of
Prison Life in the South, only a part. As I look back over the great
mass of events that were continually occurring during all hours of the
day and night of less than one year, I give up in despair. The inhuman
treatment, and fearful atrocities of our brutal keepers are
heart-rending, and I can poorly illustrate them. Language is unable to
describe the real condition of affairs in southern prisons. No one can
present in its true light the fearful suffering experienced in them.
Others have contributed sketches for the dark picture. I shall
therefore be very brief.
By noon of the 20th of April, the entire garrison of Plymouth was in
the hands of the rebels, and all the captured were concentrated on the
Washington road. During the afternoon, the rebel cavalry scoured the
woods and shot dead every colored soldier and man that was able to
bear arms. The number murdered in this way must have been in the
neighborhood of one hundred.
We went to sleep that night feeling very gloomy, tired, and hungry,
most of us having had nothing to eat during the day. It was nothing
new to us to sleep on the ground without anything over us, for we
were quite used to that, but we could easily see what we were to
expect from the hands of the rebels, and many were thinking of home
and how anxious our friends would be to hear of our fate, whether
killed in the battle or captured; and if captured, _worse_ than
killed. The next day we had twenty-five hard crackers and on an
average about ten ounces of raw salt pork issued to us. This had to
last us till the morning of the 26th, making five days, thus making
five crackers and two ounces of pork per day. On this we had to live
and during the day make quite long marches.
Colonel Beach, Lieutenant Colonel Burnham, Major Pasco, Quartermaster
Robins, Surgeon Mayer, Assistant Surgeon Nickerson, and Captain Burke,
together with the wounded men, remained at Plymouth. About noon of the
21st we took up our line of march, halting about nine in the evening,
making a distance of thirteen miles. We marched more or less every day
until the noon of the 25th, when we arrived at Tarboro, having passed
through the villages of Foster's Mill, Jamesville, Williamston, and
Hamilton. Crowds of women and children lined the roadside eager to get
a glimpse of the "Yankees," some hissing and insulting us in various
ways. On the 23d, the 11th Virginia guarded us, and we learned that
the same regiment fought against us on the Edenton road at Suffolk a
year before. By the time we reached Tarboro, we were nearly starved,
having been out of rations from twelve to thirty-six hours. At noon,
some bacon and corn-bread were issued to the officers, and to the
enlisted men in addition some peas which were by long cooking
softened sufficiently to be eaten. At one o'clock, April 26th, all the
officers and the 85th New York went aboard the cars and were on their
way to the famous prison pens of the South, thus separating the
officers from the enlisted men--only a few of whom lived to meet again
at New Berne a year after. Traveling all night in crowded cars, we
arrived at Wilmington at daybreak, where we crossed the river by ferry
boats, and again taking cars we arrived at Florence, South Carolina,
at 10 P.M.
Here we again changed trains, being packed by fifties in box cars.
This was a miserable night, as we were packed so closely that we could
neither lie down nor sit. Some had to stand up, and those farthest
from the door nearly suffocated. Leaving Florence in the morning we
arrived at Charleston at 10 P.M. Here another change of cars
was made, sixty being packed in each car, and we remained there all
night. The next morning some hard-tack and good bacon were issued.
Leaving Charleston at seven in the morning we arrived at Savannah at
two P.M. Here more rations were issued and another change of
cars was made. We finally arrived at Andersonville at 2-1/2 o'clock
the next afternoon. Having marched us to a position, where we could
obtain a view of the famous pen, Capt. Wirz soon appeared on a horse,
making such a comical appearance that we laughed outright. "You Got
damn Yanks, you vont laugh when you get in dat Bull Pen," were his
first words of greeting. Having been sent to Andersonville by mistake
we were not allowed to go in to the Bull Pen, but were marched to a
school house or church, where we staid until the next day. Being
Sunday, Chaplain Dixon gave us a short sermon from Psalms 37th, which
was very appropriate and suitable under the peculiar circumstances in
which we were then placed. At half past nine in the forenoon we were
placed aboard the cars again, and went to Macon.
CAMP OGLETHORPE, MACON.
Here we went into Camp Oglethorpe, one hundred and ten in number,
being all the officers captured at Plymouth, and going under the title
of "Plymouth Pilgrims." General Howell Cobb soon rode up on his
charger with a bran new saddle and bridle, and introduced himself by
saying, "that we were just the fellows he wanted to see." "Why don't
you go to the front then," replied Adjutant Clapp. This rather
astounded the old gentleman. At this camp one day, Adjutant Clapp was
having his haircut and accidently the barber nicked his ear a little.
A lady who was at the time passing around the camp noticed it, and the
next day sent a little brother into the camp to sell pies, and in the
bottom of the basket was a book with a note directed to the soldier
with the cut ear, and stating that she was from the north and
sympathized with our misfortune. For good reasons I withhold her name,
but she was a noble and brave girl, and afterwards risked her life in
aiding Federal officers to escape.
On the 17th of May, 900 officers from Libby arrived and were placed in
a pen which had been built a short distance from our camp, and in the
evening we were also placed there. Here we found Lieutenant-Colonel
Burnham, Major Pasco, Quartermaster Robins, and Captain Burke, who
were separated from us at Plymouth. Colonel Beach and Surgeon Mayer
had been exchanged. Prison life had now commenced in earnest with us
and we felt it deeply. We had heretofore been where we could see what
was going on around us, and had the liberty of trading with hucksters
and others. We were now cut off from the world, _in a pen_, with
little or no shelter, and under the command of the most brutal, cruel,
heartless, and inhuman men that this world produces. They were General
Winder, Major Dick Turner, and Captain Tabb. As it is not the purpose
of this history to record all the brutal acts of these men I give two
or three to illustrate what fiends we were under. When General
Stoneman made his attempt to rescue the prisoners, Winder issued an
order called No. 13, which stamps the brute with infamy beyond
redemption. In this order, which has been preserved, Winder commanded
"the officers in charge of the artillery to open their batteries,
loaded with grape-shot, as soon as the Federals approached within
seven miles, and to continue the slaughter until every prisoner was
exterminated." We had at this time six cannon bearing on us. "Was the
prison mined," said Colonel Farnsworth to Turner, the jailor of Libby
Prison, "when General Kilpatrick approached Richmond to attempt the
rescue of the prisoners?" "Yes, and I would have blown you all to
Hades before I would have suffered you to be rescued." Major Turner
himself gave the prisoners to understand that if any more attempts
were made for their rescue, the prison would be blown to atoms. The
following atrocious order from rebel headquarters was afterwards
issued. "Any soldier killing a Federal soldier, approaching the dead
line, shall receive a furlough of sixty days; while for wounding one,
he shall receive a furlough for thirty days." Under this order many
were shot, who had no intentions of escaping. On May 29th,
Assistant-Surgeon Nickerson was brought into prison. On June 10th,
fifty of the officers, (Lieutenant-Colonel Burnham being one of the
number,) were taken to Charleston and placed under the fire of the
Union batteries on Morris Island.
We had religious services very regularly and they were well attended
after the rebels found out that we would have them, cost what they
would. I think it was the second service that we had, and on Sunday
evening, for during the day word came to the commandant of the prison,
Captain Tabb, that "the prisoners were praying for Abraham Lincoln,
Grant, and Sherman." Services had commenced in the evening and the
congregation were singing the first hymn, when in came Captain Tabb
accompanied by the officer of the day. They at once inquired who had
charge of the meeting, and being informed that it was Chaplain White,
came up to him, and, entering into conversation, told him "he (Captain
Tabb) could not allow any praying in there for the President of the
United States." Meanwhile the hymn was concluded, when Chaplain Dixon,
of the 16th, knowing what was up, at once stepped forward and began to
pray, asking God to bless all in authority, especially the President
of the United States, his cabinet and Congress, and all his advisers,
also that he would bless General Grant and his glorious army; that he
might be successful in capturing Richmond, the capital and stronghold
of the rebellion; that he would also bless Sherman, spare his life,
give him wisdom to carry out his plans, that his army might be a
victorious one all through its campaign; that treason might be
crushed, and traitors punished; that the time might speedily come when
our dear old flag should wave over every village, town, and city of
the United States, and we enjoy peace again. When the prayer was
finished Captain Tabb withdrew from the crowd saying, "d----n smart
prayer, but I don't believe it will amount to anything."
Many attempts to escape were planned, but few were successful. Major
Pasco was caught tunneling, and the officer in command ordered him to
fill up the tunnel. A revolver was held menacingly at his breast; but
he resolutely refused. He was taken from prison and threatened with
hanging, but was finally recommitted. On the 4th of July, the rebels
gave us four roll-calls in the morning. An officer hoisted a small
United States flag, which we all cheered lustily, much to the chagrin
of the rebel guards. Then another sang the Star-Spangled Banner and we
cheered that. Afterwards, without any preconcerted arrangement, we
went into a large building, and held a meeting. Chaplain Dixon made
one of the most patriotic prayers we ever heard. Then earnest,
off-hand speeches were made, filled with a determination to persevere
until the Rebellion should be crushed. Lieutenant-Colonel Thorp, 1st
N.Y. Dragoons, was particularly defiant, and the audience showed their
appreciation of it by frequent and prolonged applause. Of course such
proceedings could not be tolerated by our rebel commandant, and he
sent in his officer of the day to break up the meeting. The crowd
quietly dispersed, after giving three rousing cheers each for
President Lincoln and the little flag, the Proclamation, Grant, and
Sherman. To us it was a very satisfactory celebration. In the course
of the afternoon the following order was posted on the bulletin-board:
SPECIAL ORDERS NO. 6.
C.S. MILITARY PRISON, }
MACON, GA., July 4th, 1864, }
"I. Lieutenant-Colonel Thorp is relieved from duty as senior
officer of prisoners for a violation of prison rules, and
Lieutenant-Colonel McCrary will again assume that position.
"II. The same order and quiet will be observed on this day as on
any other.
"III. A disregard of this order may subject offenders to
unpleasant consequences.
"GEO. C. GIBBS, Captain Commanding."
After the meeting was over, Colonel Thorp was called out to
headquarters, when the following conversation took place between
Captain Gibbs and himself:
_G._--"What's your name?"
_Col._--"T.J. Thorp."
_G._--"Were you addressing the officers in the prison?"
_Col._--"I was."
_G._--"What did you mean by it?"
_Col._--"It was the desire of the officers that I should address them,
_which I did_, as is the custom in our country on the 4th of July."
_G._--"_Sir_, I shall put you in _irons_, and send you to jail."
_Col._--"Very well, you can do so; but such treatment will not
ameliorate my feelings toward you or the Confederacy in the least. We
deem it not only a privilege, but a duty, to commemorate the 4th of
July as the birth-day of a great nation, for whose defense and
perpetuity we are willing to _suffer_, and _die_, if need be."
At this the Captain commuted his verdict to solitary confinement in
jail _without irons_; but, before the guard arrived, the order was
entirely revoked, and Colonel Thorp was sent back inside the stockade,
with threats of summary treatment if he persisted in addressing the
officers again on _any subject_.
SAVANNAH--CHARLESTON.
On July 28th, the first division of prisoners went to Charleston. This
took of the 16th, Major Pasco, Quartermaster Robins, Captains Morse,
Robinson, Burke, Hintz, and Lieutenant Bruns. The next day 600 more
left for Savannah. In this squad all the remaining officers of the
16th went, they being Chaplain Dixon, Adjutant Clapp, Captain Turner,
Lieutenants A.G. Case, Bowers, Strong, Andrus, Miller, Waters, Landon,
and Blakeslee. On our way we busied ourselves by pitching the guards
out of the cars when under full headway. Arriving at Savannah we were
received by a large delegation of citizens, who were greatly
interested, and wondered where our horns and tails were. Great was
their surprise that we did not look different from their soldiers. The
crowd was very great, and the police, aided by the city militia,
could hardly clear the way for us to march through the streets. The
officer in charge also was greatly confused, and gave so many wrong
orders that it was a long time before we were able to march to the old
United States Marine Hospital. We were confined in the yard surrounded
on three sides by a brick wall eight feet high. While at this prison
Lieutenant John M. Waters was taken sick with bilious fever. After a
sickness of two weeks he was taken into the hospital on August 17th,
dying the next day at 11 A.M. On the 19th, Chaplain Dixon was allowed
to go out and perform the last duty of respect to our comrade in the
presence of the Commander of the prison, Officer of the Day, Officer
of the Guard, two Lieutenants, and four privates. Lieutenant Waters
was very genial and, until his sickness, had kept up good courage. On
September 2d, the Chaplains and Surgeons were sent to Charleston to be
exchanged. This took Chaplain Dixon and Assistant Surgeon Nickerson of
the 16th.
At an early hour on the morning of September 13th, we left Savannah
and went to Charleston, where we were enthusiastically received and
thrown into the yard of the jail. We here found Edward Woodford of
Company I, who gave us some of the casualties of the enlisted men at
Andersonville. He reported that the regiment stood it better than the
other regiments who were captured at Plymouth, but already sixty had
died. Two days after our arrival, Major Pasco, who was on parole at
Roper hospital, (together with the balance of the 16th officers who
left Macon in the first division, July 28th,) visited us, and through
his efforts three days after, we joined him at Roper Hospital, by
signing the following parole.
CHARLESTON, S.C., C.S. AMERICA,
SEPTEMBER, 1864.
"We, the undersigned, prisoners of war, confined in the city of
Charleston, in the Confederate States of America, do pledge our
parole individually as military men and men of honor, that we
will not attempt to pass the lines which shall be established
and guarded around our prison house; nor will we, by letter,
word, or sign, hold any intercourse with parties beyond those
lines, nor with those who may visit us, without authority. It is
understood by us, that this parole is voluntary on our part, and
given in consideration of privileges secured to us, by lessening
the stringency of the guard, of free ingress and egress of the
house and appointed grounds during the day, by which we secure a
liberty of fresh air and exercise, grateful to comfort and
health.
"Hereby we admit that this, our parole, binds us in letter and
spirit, with no room for doubts or technicality of construction,
and its violation will be an act of lasting disgrace. Signed:"
_The firing upon the city_ was continued daily notwithstanding our
being brought here and placed under fire of our own batteries as a
means of saving the besieged city. Cheer after cheer went up as we
heard the missiles crash through adjacent buildings.
On September 17th, at 1 P.M., a fire broke out near us. General Foster
immediately opened on the place, the fourth shell bursting in a
dwelling house near by, setting that also on fire. So accurate were
Gilmore's guns aimed that two shells burst in the burning buildings;
and the negroes told us that one struck an engine, entirely destroying
it, and killing several firemen. One shell struck our wall, tearing it
nearly down. Several pieces of shell came into the yard where we were,
but no one was injured. One of our officers in Roper Hospital was
wounded in the arm by a piece of shell that came through the roof
while he was eating dinner, making a flesh wound, smashing up the
table, and passing on through the floor. In the evening we often
watched the shells coming, and it was a beautiful sight. We first
caught the flash of our guns; then, after waiting a few seconds, we
could see the missile, which looked like a shooting star, climbing up
higher and higher; and, when it reached its full hight, we could hear
the report of the guns that sent it; by this time the shell was so
near, that we could hear its sharp, shrill shriek; then it gradually
descended, and approached until it was right over our heads, when it
burst, most of the pieces going beyond us. The report of the explosion
then reached us, as we heard the fragments rattle among the brick
walls, or crash fearfully through the wooden tenements. Shells from
Gilmore's batteries on Morris Island were continually making sad havoc
in the city, killing and wounding from one to eight persons daily, and
going through entire blocks. Sometimes a single percussion shell would
blow up an entire building.
On October 2d, Major Pasco received a letter from Lieutenant Colonel
Burnham, stating that he was once more a prisoner of war and confined
at Wilmington. This was news that very much surprised us. It seems
that after being exchanged at Charleston, he had been home and had got
newly fitted out, and was on his way to the regiment. At this time Co.
"H" and a few others of the regiment which had been gathered from
different points were stationed at Roanoke Island, and this composed
the 16th Connecticut Volunteers, on the Union side of the lines.
Lieutenant Colonel Burnham took the steamer "Fawn" at Norfolk, and
while passing Coinjock, on the Albemarle and Chesapeake canal, they
were fired into by guerrillas, who lay concealed near the shore. One
was killed outright and several wounded. The remainder were taken
prisoners, and the steamer was burned. The prisoners were marched to
Elizabeth City, and turned over to the rebel authorities. Colonel
Burnham was soon after again paroled.
COLUMBIA.
On October 5th, we went to Columbia. Captains Morse, Burke, and
Robinson escaped by jumping from the train, but were recaptured on the
11th, and rejoined us next day at Camp Sorghum.
That we might get wood the commandant allowed a certain number to be
paroled each day. Their names were written on a piece of paper, handed
to the officer of the day, who instructed the guard to pass them in
and out at their pleasure till night. On the 3d of November, Captains
Robinson, Dickerson, and Burke, took advantage of this, and
successfully escaped, an account of which has been written by Captain
Dickerson as follows:
"Upon the evening of the 3d of November, 1864, a large number of
officers were paroled for the purpose of bringing wood for cooking and
building purposes. Three of us,--Captains Burke, Robinson, and
myself--finished getting wood, saw our paroles destroyed, returned to
camp, and, after a short time, recrossed the guard-line, and,
unsuspected, made our way to the woods. We kept slowly through the
woods, until we were safely beyond the reach of the rebels. Night
coming on, we traveled through the fields and woods, until we struck a
road which ran parallel with the Congaree River; and traveled
southward about twelve miles. We then left the public road, and
traveled through the woods, toward the river, which was about eight
miles distant. Upon the afternoon of the 4th, we fell in with five
other of our escaped prisoners from the same camp, who escaped two
nights previous to ourselves by bribing the guard. They had been in
the swamp two days, and had made an arrangement with the negroes for
provisions, and information where two boats could be found. We joined
our parties, and in the evening the negroes met us, and furnished us
with the promised necessaries. Proceeding to the river, which was
about two miles distant, we found the boats which accommodated all of
us. At about eleven o'clock, all things being ready we embarked in our
boats, and paddled down the river. Early in the morning, we landed,
having secured a hiding-place for our boats and ourselves, and devoted
the day to cooking and sleep. Darkness again found us upon the river;
and we soon passed the bridge of the South Carolina railroad, which
was guarded by sentries; paddled all night; and again secured
ourselves for the day.
"While engaged, some in cooking, others in sleep, our attention was
attracted by loud talking; and soon we discovered a boat below us,
upon the river, being poled up the river by negroes. One of our party
posted himself upon the bank of the river, where he could hail the
boat without discovering the presence of the rest of the party, and,
hailing the negro in charge of the boat, informed him that he was in
want of provisions. The negro replied that he had no time to stop, and
persisted in keeping on his course. When all entreaty failed, the
captain told him he was a 'Yankee' officer, escaped from rebel prison,
making his way north and needed provisions, and information regarding
obstructions in the river. The negro no sooner learned his true
character than he immediately landed, secured his boat, staid with us
all day, cooking rations, and giving very valuable information. He
claimed in return for his service, a sight of the rest of the party,
whom he had instinctive shrewdness to know were concealed close by.
Night again found us upon the river; and after a few hours' sail we
landed at a farm, of which we had been informed by the negroes, where
we succeeded in capturing a goat, which supplied us with meat to our
journey's end.
"Monday and Tuesday nights nothing occurred to delay our progress
toward the desired goal. Wednesday evening, we had been going down the
river but a short time, when we reached a ferry, where we made the
acquaintance of four negroes, who furnished us with a large quantity
of sweet-potatoes, salt, and meat. Upon parting with them, they bade
us God-speed and a safe journey. Elated and happy with our success, we
kept steadily forward; and soon after we landed to again consult the
negroes, who told us we were but five miles from a battery, mounting
two pieces, upon the right bank of the river, guarded by rebel
soldiers. After receiving other information and provisions, we parted
company with the last of our negro friends, and proceeded down the
river, passed the battery in safety, and, landing, waited for the
darkness of the night to finish our journey to the coast. Thursday
night, full of hope, we again took to our boats, and meeting no
interference, reached the coast safely.
"The light of Friday morning, November 11th, revealed to us the spars
of a ship, which we soon made out to be one of the United States
blockade. It was the Canandaigua, Captain Harrison; and after sundry
attempts we succeeded in getting safe on board, under the protection
of the star-spangled banner. We came north on the Fulton."
Of the many devices for escape, all were not as successful as the
above, as our major will testify.
Major Pasco had become possessed of two gold dollars which had been
sent him in cans of solidified milk from the north. He had bribed a
guard to permit Captains Morse, Turner, and himself, to pass out that
evening between the hours of eight and ten, for the two gold dollars
and a jack knife. At the appointed time, and all three officers being
ready, they approached the dead line, and Captain Morse going first
gave the booty to the guard who allowed him to pass and also Captain
Turner. At this point an officer who was lying on the ground and
trying to escape on his own hook in another manner, jumped up and
passed out. The guard had passed out three according to agreement.
Major Pasco came along and was halted by the guard, and the following
conversation took place:
Major. You agreed to pass out three of us.
Guard. Well I have let out three. You must go back.
Major. That last man you let pass didn't belong to my party.
Guard. Can't help it, I have let out three and you must go back.
The Major undertook to explain matters, but the sentinels along the
line commenced to fire at him and he beat a hasty retreat into camp,
where he dreamed all night of the officer who euchred him out of an
escape.
But the Major was not to be foiled out of a successful escape. He made
a second attempt to reach the Union lines by writing out a false sick
certificate to pass to the hospital, but he was recaptured after seven
days absence. The third time he succeeded. Shortly after the train
left Columbia, while we were going to Charlotte, N.C., he jumped off
the train and was overtaken by Sherman's army. Lieutenant Bruns also
escaped from this prison, but was recaptured and brought back after an
absence of ten days. Captains Morse and Turner were returned to
prison, having been absent a month. There were so many escapes from
this prison that on the 12th of December, the rebels marched us into
the city and confined us in the yard of the Insane Asylum with a brick
wall around it eight or ten feet high, and eighteen inches thick.
CHARLOTTE, RALEIGH, GOLDSBORO, WILMINGTON.
The month of February was full of rumors in regard to our exchange,
but it was an old story to us given out to prevent our trying to
escape. On the 14th and 15th we were moved to Charlotte. General
Sherman had by this time arrived within two miles of the city and was
posting his artillery on the hill, (Camp Sorghum[3]) where we had been
imprisoned a few weeks before.
As the train started. General Sherman opened his batteries on the
city. Lieutenant Landon and a party of sixteen had managed to hide
themselves between the rafters under the floor of the second story of
the Hospital building, where they stayed with little or no food for
forty-eight hours and fell into the hands of Sherman. Major Pasco,
Captains Morse and Turner, who jumped from the first train that left
Columbia, secreted themselves in the woods and General Sherman
overtook them on his way north. The remaining officers of the 16th
were sent to Charlotte with the rest of the prisoners, arriving there
on the evening of the 16th, having been delayed some hours at a point
40 miles from Columbia by running into a drove of cattle which the
rebels were driving ahead of Sherman's course. The engine, tender, and
one car was thrown from the track, killing three beef creatures. This
was issued to us, being the first meat of any kind that we had tasted
for four months and ten days.
Disembarking from the cars on the morning of the 17th, we marched
three-quarters of a mile to a little pine grove, which we called Camp
Necessity or Camp Bacon, by reason of some bacon having been
issued,--the only meat rations for over four months. The fact that we
were soon to be exchanged was now confirmed by the rebels taking off
part of the guard and allowing them to use unloaded muskets. Still[4]
"old fish" turned away and would not believe it, and a good many
escaped, as it was a very easy matter. Captain Hintz and Lieutenant
Bruns immediately left, and Lieutenant Johnson with Lieutenant Eli P.
Alexander, (Co. H. 26th Mich.,) went out about noon, and nothing has
ever been heard from them. It is supposed that they were murdered by
guerrillas. On the 20th, we signed a parole not to serve against the
Confederate States until regularly exchanged, and that evening we left
for Raleigh, where we stayed a few days and thence proceeded to
Goldsboro, where we were quartered in the Court House. On the 27th we
signed the following parole.
We, the undersigned, prisoners of war, do give our Parole of
Honor, that we will not take up arms again, nor serve as
Military Police or Constabulary force in any fort, garrison, or
fieldwork, nor as guards of prisoners, depots or stores, nor to
discharge any duty usually performed by soldiers: until
exchanged under the provisions of the cartel entered into July
22d, 1862.
About six o'clock in the evening of the 28th, we left Goldsboro by
cars crowded both in and outside, amid cheers and songs, bound for
Wilmington, which was now in our possession. Riding all night,
daylight found us standing on the track at Rocky Point, a few miles
from Northeast Bridge, and fourteen miles from Wilmington. This was
the picket line and out-post of the rebels. At nine o'clock Colonel
Hatch on a special train arrived and proceeded ahead with a flag of
truce on the engine. We soon started and reached neutral ground about
ten o'clock. About a mile past Marlboro, we came in sight of the "Boys
in Blue." Three cheers were immediately given. As the train came to a
stand still, all were silent, and we quietly disembarked and were
counted through the ranks of twenty Union soldiers, they presenting
arms. As soon as we were able clearly to comprehend that there was not
somebody at our side with a loaded musket, cheer upon cheer was given,
caps were thrown high in the air, some were hugging and kissing each
other, and others cried. Whilst some sang, others were laughing and
rolling on the ground. Finally our old pans, kettles, bags of meal,
and bundles of all sorts were flung high in the air. Cheer upon cheer
was given for Lincoln, Grant, Sherman, and _General Exchange_. Some
hugged the horse of a Colonel, who seemed to have command over us, but
tried in vain to get us into line. Taking up the line of march, a mile
brought us to Cape Fear River, and in sight of the United States flag.
Cheer after cheer ran the whole length of the line. The 6th
Connecticut was encamped on the bank of the river, and at the end of
the pontoon bridge which we had to cross, they had erected a handsome
arbor decked with flags. In the center of the arch, surrounded with a
wreath of evergreens, were the words
"WELCOME, BROTHERS."
A band was placed here, and played "Hail to the Chief who in Triumph
Advances." Some few cheered but more were moved to tears, and kissed
that dear old flag which they had so long suffered for, and all
marched under with uncovered heads. Arriving at the top of the hill,
we found the whole division of troops in line to receive us. On
reaching camp we partook of a breakfast of United States rations, the
first full meal which we had had for a long time. At noon those that
were able walked to Wilmington, a distance of nine miles. We were here
met by officers who provided us with another meal, and then we were
quartered in churches and private residences. The next day (March 2d,)
we took the steamer "General Sedgwick" for Annapolis, Md., where we
remained a week, receiving two months pay and a leave of absence for
30 days, at the end of which time we were to report at Camp Parole,
Annapolis, Md.
Extracts from a statement made in 1867 by Lieut. B.F. Blakeslee, to a
"Congressional Committee on the Treatment of Prisoners of War and
Union Citizens;" John P.C. Shanks of Indiana, Chairman.
At Macon, for quarters we had merely a roof which sheltered us
from rain; but no protection from the cold damp nights. Rations
consisted per diem of a pint to a pint and a half of corn-meal;
from poor to fair in quality, and occasionally in lieu thereof
baked corn-bread from one to two inches thick, three inches long
and three inches in width, containing a large quantity of water
and very hard; rice half a tea-cupful, or in lieu thereof the
same quantity of beans; salt, a teaspoonful; bacon, from three
to four ounces; invariably decayed and maggoty, with only two
exceptions, two issues of soap were made and that was the end of
trying to keep clean; meat of any kind except the bacon above
mentioned we never saw. No cooking utensils were issued. The
rations of wood were not sufficient to do our cooking. From the
11th to the 18th of July, none whatever was issued, and rations
had to be eaten raw.
This caused much hunger, suffering, and misery, as the beans and
rice could not be eaten. The quality of the water in this prison
was good and usually plenty, though some days the supply was
short. Our treatment here was generally bad. The length of
confinement was three months.
At Savannah we were better treated in every respect than in any
other prison, provided with tents, and cooking utensils, and a
good supply of rations of good quality. Fresh beef was issued
nearly every day. The water though, was very poor; having a
fetid smell, and unpleasant taste, and could only be used for
drinking purposes by filtering through charcoal; or burnt rice
or meal steeped in it. The length of confinement was six weeks.
At Charleston Jail Yard, only a part were provided with shelter;
and in rainy weather the yard was flooded with water, so we
could neither lie down nor do any cooking. In pleasant weather,
it was as hot as an oven. Little or no fresh air could come
within those walls which were twelve feet high, and in addition
surrounded by buildings. When there was a breeze, there were
whirlwinds of dust which would almost suffocate us. The water
was very poor, making a great many sick. The rations consisted
of small quantities of corn-meal and rice, and one ounce of
bacon per day; but after a week or so the bacon was dispensed
with. There were no utensils for cooking, and but little salt
was issued. In addition to our deplorable condition we were
under fire from Gilmore's batteries, whose shells were
continually bursting around us, occasionally coming amongst us
and twice tearing the wall away. On one occasion for sixty hours
we had not a morsel to eat.
At Roper Hospital Prison, in Charleston, our exact rations were
for ten days, two and a third quarts of corn-meal, two quarts of
rice, three pints of black beans (including bugs,) and four
ounces (daily) of fresh beef, or in lieu thereof, two ounces of
bacon. No cooking utensils were to be had. We certainly should
have starved to death here, had it not been for an arrangement
made for obtaining money which enabled us to purchase food of
the citizens. The authorities gave us Confederate money in
exchange for our drafts (in gold) on the North.
At Columbia we were turned into an open field like a drove of
cattle to pass the winter months, without any shelter whatever,
neither cooking utensils, axes, spades or anything were issued
that would enable us to make ourselves comfortable. With scanty
clothing, but few blankets, some without shoes, we were left
here to pass the winter as best we could. Rations consisted of
corn-meal and rice. Twelve days rations of rice made one meal.
Salt was issued in small quantities, and for four consecutive
days we had none at all. On September 26th and 27th, we had
nothing to eat. One or two issues of flour were made, but no
meat of any kind was provided.
While on our way to Charlotte, the train ran into a drove of
cattle, killing three, which were issued to us, making the only
meat rations we had had for four months and ten days. At Raleigh
we met several trains loaded with enlisted men going north to be
paroled. Nearly all were sick and very dirty and black; no soap
having been issued to them for six months. Nineteen out of one
train had died since leaving Salisbury, a distance of 132 miles,
mostly of starvation, though some who were on the top of the
cars were frozen to death. On Monday morning they had half a
loaf of bread, weighing not over five ounces issued to them,
since which time the rebels had issued _not a particle of food_.
It was then Thursday noon. How soon thereafter rations were
issued to them I am unable to state.
FOOTNOTES:
[3] So named, because that was the principal ration we received
while there.
[4] The first six months of prison life one is called a "fresh
fish," the next four months a "sucker," the next two a "dry cod,"
and the balance of his time a "dried herring," or "old fish."
After exchange he becomes a "pickled sardine."
As soon as a new prisoner made his appearance at the gate, the cry
of "fresh-fish," by each one ran through the prison, and a general
rush was made for the gate. An eager group surrounded him, and
while some would be seriously asking questions concerning his
capture and listening to his pitiful story others would call out
"Take your hands out of his haversack;" "Give him air;" "Keep that
louse off him;" "Don't take his clothes;" etc. All this affected
them strangely at first, and produced a hearty laugh for us.