COLUMBIA.—PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION.
We arrived at Columbia in a drenching rain, were taken out of the cars,
and remained in a field near the depot until the next morning. We had
no chance to make a fire, and were wet, cold and hungry. Along the
tracks were cars filled with families who had fled from Charleston and
Atlanta. We saw several very beautiful ladies among them, dressed well,
and wearing jewelry, but they were silent and sullen.
We were guarded by the Columbia Cadets, a fine body of young men from
the military school. The command was given to fall in, and we were
informed that we must march about a mile to a camp ground, and should
be made very comfortable. On the way we passed the Confederate money
factory. As the girls employed there came to the windows we called to
them to throw us out a bushel or two, as they could make plenty more.
They laughed, threw kisses at us, and for a moment we forgot that we
were prisoners, and felt that we were going out on a picnic. We marched
about two miles, and arrived at our camp ground. This consisted of
several acres, covered with a second growth of wood. A guard line was
made around it, and sentries were posted. Twenty feet from the guard
line was the dead line. This time it was a furrow ploughed around the
camp. Our cadet guards were relieved by the militia, and we were turned
in like so many hogs.
These were the comfortable quarters promised. The wood and water were
outside the lines, and we had to wait our turn to go out. No sinks
were provided, and only twelve men were allowed out at a time. It was
terrible. Nearly every man in prison suffered from diarrhœa. It was
no uncommon sight to see one hundred men standing in line; many were
obliged to remain there nearly all the time.
We were in this condition for more than a week, then _eight axes_ and
_ten shovels_ were given the fifteen hundred prisoners, and the guard
line was extended an hour a day, to give us a chance to cut wood and
gather brush for shelter. Our little mess located under a tree, and our
rule was that one should always be at home; but for some cause one day
all were absent for a few moments, and when we returned could not find
where we lived, as our tree had been cut down.
We had heard much of the sunny south, and did not expect cold weather,
but the night of October 9 was so cold that we could not sleep, and
a white frost covered the ground in the morning. Our rations were in
keeping with the place. A pint of corn-meal, bitter and half bran, a
day, and a pint of sorghum molasses for five days. We named the prison
Camp Sorghum. Many could not draw the molasses, having nothing to put
it in, but my old pitcher worked in handy for that purpose.
As soon as possible we began to build huts. We increased our mess to
five, one having a blanket. We dug a hole in the ground two feet deep,
covered it with poles set up on ends, then with brush, and outside a
coating of dirt. This was first rate when it did not rain, but as soon
as the dirt became wet it would soak through the brush and drop on us
as we tried to sleep. At night four would lie down, then the fifth
would squeeze in, covering us with our only blanket. When we wanted to
turn over some one would say, “About.” The odd man would get up, all
turn over, then he would jam in again. So we lay, packed like sardines
in a box, keeping alive from the warmth we received from each other.
After a while sinks were dug, and the lines extended so as to take in
the brook that ran in the rear of the camp. Nearly all the men were
barefoot, and it was laughable to see us wash. We stood in the water,
which was very cold, and danced while we washed our faces and hands.
Besides our other troubles we were in constant fear of being shot by
the guard. One evening, as we were gathered in little groups around the
fires, we heard a shot and saw Lieutenant Young of the 4th Pennsylvania
cavalry throw up his hands and fall dead. Upon investigation we learned
that one of the guards had asked another if he supposed he could hit a
man at that distance. A doubt being expressed he drew up his piece and
fired, with the result as stated. Another time an officer was waiting
with his axe on his shoulder to go out for wood. He was standing
several feet from the dead line when the guard fired,—killing him
instantly. We made every possible effort to have the rebel officers
take some action that would prevent our comrades from being murdered.
The guard who did the shooting was relieved one day, and the next
appeared on duty on the front line of the camp. As far as we could
learn he was never reprimanded.
The presidential election was drawing near, and was the subject for
discussion in the prison. The rebels were much interested in it,
and their papers were filled with complimentary words for General
McClellan, the Democratic nominee. They were sure that his election
would bring peace, and that the south would gain its independence. They
tried to impress us with the idea that the election of McClellan meant
liberty for us, but as much as we desired release from captivity, we
had learned that what the rebels desired was just what they ought not
to have.
The election was held October 17. Why that day was selected I do not
remember, but it is possible because we could not wait longer. We
were to vote by States, the senior officers of each having charge of
the poll. It was an exciting day. General McClellan had many warm
friends, who had followed him in battle and loved him as their first
commander, but it was evident by the debates that “honest Abe Lincoln”
was the favorite with the majority. The polls opened at nine A.M.;
the ticket distributors were on hand as at home. I think the polls
closed at twelve M. Then all rushed to the bulletin board, where the
returns were posted, to learn the result. Lincoln received one thousand
twenty-three, McClellan, one hundred forty-three, and two hundred four
did not take interest enough to vote. We Republicans were delighted,
and expressed our joy by giving three hearty cheers. It told us that a
large majority believed in the wise administration of Abraham Lincoln,
and although many of them had been in prison sixteen months their
faith had not been shaken. The excitement did us all good. The vote
of Massachusetts was Lincoln, forty-three; McClellan, five. The only
States that went for McClellan were Kentucky and Tennessee. Kentucky
gave McClellan fifteen, Lincoln, thirteen; Tennessee, McClellan,
thirty-one; Lincoln, twenty-six.
We had another pleasant event. One day some boxes came in, sent by our
sanitary commission. They contained drawers, shirts, handkerchiefs and
a few dressing gowns. There was enough for one article to each officer,
and we drew them by lots. McGinnis was lucky, as he drew a dressing
gown, and his clothing being worn out he used it for a full suit. He
had been sick, and his hair had fallen from his head; he looked like
the “priest all shaven and shorn” as he walked about the prison. I was
not so fortunate, as I drew only a handkerchief.
The wardrobes of all required replenishing. I wore the same shirt I had
on when captured, and although it had not been washed oftener than was
necessary it was too thin for comfort. My light blue pants were worn
at the knees and fringed at the bottoms, so I cut off the skirts of my
dark blue coat to repair them. My hat was open at the top and the rim
was nearly separated from the crown. I found an old piece of tent and
made a new crown, and with the thread raveled out of the canvas sewed
on the rim. My boots were worn out, and my feet were bare.
No meat of any kind was issued to us at Columbia, but we drew some one
day quite unexpectedly. A wild boar rushed out of the woods. It passed
the guard and came into camp. Every one was after it, and Captain Brown
of a Pennsylvania regiment threw himself on the back of the hog and
with his knife cut its throat. Without waiting to dress it, he began
cutting off pieces and throwing them to the crowd. The smell of fried
pork soon pervaded the camp, and in fifteen minutes after the boar
passed the guard every particle was devoured.
Once in a while an officer would trade for a little meat, and while
they did not entertain company frequently they sometimes gave banquets.
Captains Hastings and Creasey and Lieutenants Cross, Moody and Chute
messed together. One day they obtained a shin bone with a little meat
on it, and were going to have a grand dinner. I was invited as their
special guest. They had some rice and made dumplings out of their
corn-meal ration. Captain Hastings was cook, but we sat around to rake
the fire and make suggestions. We would taste of it as it boiled, and
could hardly wait for the captain to pronounce it cooked. The kettle
rested on two sticks, and just as we were getting ready to take it from
the fire the back stick burned in two and over went the soup. We looked
at each other for five minutes without speaking, then I arose, said
I guessed I would not stop to dinner, and went back to my quarters a
hungry, broken-hearted man.
The officers were constantly escaping. Every night the guard would
fire, and while no one was wounded we knew some one had passed out.
The rebels called the roll or counted us every day. This was done by
driving all to the dead line and counting from right to left. After the
right had been counted we would skip down through the camp and fall
in on the left. In that way we made our number good, but so many were
recaptured and brought back that they mistrusted what we were doing,
and made us stand in line until all were counted.