OFFICERS IN CONFEDERATE PRISONS--HOUSTON--STATE PRISON--CAMP
GROCE--CAMP FORD--EN-ROUTE HOME--AT HOME.
Soon after the enlisted men (Galveston prisoners of war) were paroled
and left for the Federal lines, the officers retained at Houston were
joined (January 25th) by one hundred and nine prisoners taken at Sabine
Pass, officers and crews of the U. S. sailing vessels _Morning Light_
and _Velocity_. Among them were Acting Masters Dillingham, Fowler and
Washburn, Masters-Mates Chambers and Rice, Acting Assistant-Surgeon J.
W. Shrify, and Captain Hammond of the _Velocity_.
These two successful ventures (Galveston and Sabine Pass) elated the
Texans, giving them a confidence in their prowess that expressed itself
in constant jubilations. “We Texans are whales,” remarked by one of
them to a prisoner, was but an index of opinions they all entertained.
The officers were allowed liberty of the city, on their
parole-of-honor, for about a week or ten days after reaching Houston,
when this privilege was withdrawn, and they were kept in close
confinement. This freedom was not improved further than to purchase
supplies. Union men had secretly cautioned them not to go out in the
then excited state of feeling among the people, who thought hanging
was good enough for Federal officers. A watch was upon every one
who evinced a desire to show the Federals any attention. One man,
who gave them a stove, was thrown into confinement. Another man, a
storekeeper, had Colonel Burrell dine with him at home, but did not
dare to visit the officers in their quarters. In conversation with
the provost-marshal on this state of feeling, that official said they
were safe from any trouble while under guard, for the army did not
wish any harm to come to them, because there was no telling when they
would find themselves in the same predicament; still the prisoners were
chary of trust in either army or people, and at night barricaded their
prison-apartment door with what chairs they had; each man armed himself
with a stick of wood for defence, if an occasion arose.
There were men in Houston who secretly passed into the officers’ hands
a sufficient amount of Confederate bills to supply their needful
wants. Prominent in this good work was a Mr. H. W. Benchley, who was
lieutenant-governor of Massachusetts in 1855. The money thus obtained
was of the greatest benefit at the time, enabling many necessaries to
be procured. The names of all these men are not known. Many were former
citizens of Massachusetts, whose hearts were not alienated from the
old Bay State. There was a slumbering affection for the United States
Government, kept in abeyance from fear of the Confederate authorities,
who, it has been proved beyond a question, were wont to treat with
severity every man suspected of sympathy with the Federal Government.
The prisoners’ quarters would have been tolerable comfortable had any
decent arrangements been made to take care of excrements, made by
Confederate soldiers and Federal prisoners. The lower stories were
occupied by troops, the upper story by prisoners, who had to stand
all bad odor that ascended from below. Rations issued, while not what
the prisoners would like, nor, in fact, such as Northern people would
consider fit to eat, were quite as good as the authorities issued to
their own troops, accustomed to that kind of food. To become accustomed
to “corn-meal coffee” and coarse “corn-dodger” was hard work. Food
was issued to last ten days at a time, and had to do so. Each man was
expected to fare no better than his fellows. No trouble occurred until
Stone and Dillingham helped themselves one day, out of meal hours, to
ginger-bread laid aside. Some personal feeling was engendered when they
were remonstrated with, and the Confederate provost-marshal issued an
order that made Colonel Burrell commander of the Federal prisoners. An
effort was made to draw up a code of regulations all would agree to be
governed by, but no committee could be found to do this duty. Colonel
Burrell was obliged to exercise a supervision over all matters material
to their welfare until he left Houston.
_Ennui_ of confinement, in January, February and March, was somewhat
abated by singing, card playing, drills in sword exercise, with sticks
of wood for weapons, and gymnastic exercises. On and after February
12th they were allowed two hours a day, under guard, to stroll around
the city and outskirts, generally to cross Buffalo Bayou and play ball
upon the prairie land, free of annoyance from citizens. This privilege
was granted on a medical certificate from Surgeon Cummings, stating
such liberty was absolutely necessary, and consent obtained of General
Magruder, through Surgeon Peples, medical director of the Department,
with whom Cummings was on intimate terms.
The _Houston Telegraph_ was eagerly read every morning, and each item
relating to exchange of prisoners or their parole was sought for and
noted. They could get little satisfactory information from its columns
concerning the situation of military affairs; according to its “pony
express news,” victories were always with the Southern arms, and such
victories! _Bombastes Furioso_ could not have done better than did the
publisher of this newspaper.
Among the frequent visitors was Major Shannon, C. S. A., who did his
best to make everything pleasant, also a Captain Chubb, formerly from
Charlestown, Mass., then a resident of Texas. Chubb was captured early
in the war by Federals, and confined in Fort Lafayette for over a
year. He was much given to boasting, and could utter more oaths in one
sentence than any man the prisoners ever heard. Notwithstanding his
boasts, bluster, and intense fire-eating proclivities, he was always
found to be pleasant, agreeable company, kind and generous at heart,
ever ready to do the prisoners a favor. He did contribute money to the
officers’ fund in a quiet way. Other visitors were a Mr. Whitcomb,
formerly of Roxbury, Mass., and a Mr. Stearns, of Waltham, Mass., then
an engineer on the Galveston and Houston Railroad.
Acting-Master Munroe, wounded upon the _Harriet Lane_, died January
30th, and was buried next day, the funeral being attended by all of the
naval officers present. Corporal McIntosh, Company D, died February
10th, in hospital, at six P.M., and was buried next day in
the afternoon. The officers made a neat head-board to mark his grave.
March 26th Private O’Shaughnessy, Company D, made his first appearance,
on crutches, since losing his leg at Galveston. April 6th Private
Josselyn, Company D, wounded at Galveston, was discharged from hospital.
On the twenty-ninth of April an order came from General Magruder to
send all commissioned officers to the State Penitentiary at Huntsville,
there to be kept in close confinement until further orders. This order,
so it was stated, came from Richmond, and was to place in confinement
all captured officers that were in General Butler’s army, and was said
to be in retaliation for a similar act of the Federal authorities. None
of the officers came from Butler’s army; General Banks had superseded
him, and the 42d Mass. was acting under Banks’ orders. Without any
regular order from General Banks in his possession, Colonel Burrell was
unable to make the authorities understand this fact, or more likely
they chose not to understand it. All colored men in the captured crews
of the _Harriet Lane_ and _Morning Light_ had previously been sent to
this prison, to do convict duty. An intimation of some proceeding like
this was given on the nineteenth.
Under escort of a cavalry detachment the officers proceeded to the
Texas Central Railroad depot to take a special freight car, at nine
o’clock A.M. Dinner was eaten at Cypress City, twenty-five
miles from Houston, and at half-past four P.M. they reached
Navasota, where quarters were provided for nineteen officers in one
room eighteen feet square, at the Morning Star Hotel. Supper and
breakfast cost them two dollars each. After breakfast next morning, and
a friendly shake of the hand by General Sam. Houston, who promised to
call at their new quarters and see them, at quarter-past six o’clock
they took four wagons, with mule teams, provided to make the journey to
their destination, forty-five miles distant, and arrived at the prison
about noon May 1st, where the information was imparted that they were
to be confined in separate cells. A protest was drawn up, signed by
all, and Surgeon Cummings, with Frank Veazie, non-combatants, returned
with the same to Houston. This was not a May-day festival for the
prisoners.
In this old-fashioned prison, with none of the conveniences now in
use, convicts were employed at the shop in manufacturing cotton cloth
for the Confederate Government, a Mr. Chandler, from Massachusetts,
acting as superintendent of the factory. Life was enjoyed somewhat
after this routine: after the convicts had gone to work, the officers
were released from their cells and allowed to do as they pleased in
the yard until dinner hour, when they returned to their cells, to be
released again after the convicts had eaten their dinner and returned
to work. This rule was in force for nine days only, when Colonel
Carruthers obtained a supply of lumber, had cots made in a room in the
upper story of the prison building facing the street, and this room, on
and after May 9th, was occupied by all of the officers for a sleeping
apartment. Regular prison fare was provided on the first day, when
Colonel Carruthers, in charge of the prison, a humane man, informed
his military prisoners he would shoulder the responsibility and give
them meals at his own table, although without authority to do so. After
this no complaint could be made on that score. Confined a few nights in
small, hot cells, afterwards in the large room, was the extent of their
inconvenience until released from prison June 27th, nearly two months
from the day they entered prison walls. General Houston, Mrs. Houston,
their two daughters and son, Andrew Jackson Houston, frequently visited
the officers and entertained them so far as lay in their power. Old
Sam, seventy years old, straight as an arrow, was a very interesting
entertainer, with enlivening conversation of his experience in the
United States Senate.
The officers subjected to the indignity of a prison confinement by
the Confederate officials were: Colonel Burrell, Captains Sherive,
Proctor and Savage, Lieutenants Cowdin, White, Eddy, Newcomb, Bartlett
and Stowell, 42d Mass. Vols.; Masters Hamilton and Hannum, Engineers
Plunkett and Stone, of the _Harriet Lane_; Masters Dillingham, Fowler
and Washburn, Masters-Mates Chambers and Rice, Purser’s Clerk Van
Wycke, of the _Morning Light_; Captain Hammond, of the _Velocity_. The
three last-named were not brought to prison until May 14th.
Engineers Plunkett and Stone were taken to court, held in Houston June
10th, to testify in the case of a man who was on trial for repairing
the boilers of the _Harriet Lane_ while she lay in front of Galveston.
Plunkett refused to testify and was placed in jail for contempt of
court, but soon after released.
After Magruder sent these officers to Huntsville prison, with orders to
have them treated as prisoners of war in confinement and not as felons,
a controversy arose between the State and military authorities over the
right of the latter to send prisoners of war to the penitentiary. The
result was their transfer to a new camp established for war prisoners
at Hempstead, called Camp Groce.
Leaving behind Colonel Burrell, sick with rheumatism, under care of
Captain Sherive, the other officers left Huntsville June 27th for
Camp Groce, under escort of a cavalry guard commanded by Captain
Cundiff. Transportation back to Navasota was in wagons, with three
extra wagons, hired at ten dollars a day from each man, to carry
their baggage. Twelve miles were made on the first day, and sleeping
accommodations found at night in an old school-house, having dinner and
supper from rations provided by kind Mrs. Carruthers. Twenty-one miles
were travelled the second day, at night bivouacking under trees in a
splendid moonlight, and Navasota was reached on the twenty-ninth, about
noon. There they remained until the thirtieth, when cars were taken for
Camp Groce, which place was reached at eleven o’clock in the forenoon.
Until removed to Camp Groce the few enlisted men 42d Mass., left behind
at Houston, were quartered in a large warehouse used for storage of
general merchandise, in company with sailors composing the _Morning
Light_ crew. These sailors were a motley crowd, comprising men from
nearly every nation: Irish, English, Dutch, Spanish, Greek, Italian,
and two South Sea Islanders. They did not mind captivity, apparently
thought of nothing beyond amusement. Occasionally they got put in irons
for some misdemeanor or violation of rules, but no sooner were the
irons riveted upon their ankles than off they were filed by comrades,
to be again put on when an officer of the day came around to call the
roll. One night three of these rollicking sailors broke away from the
building and went on a spree, with some of Captain Clipper’s men. While
on a raid through the city, mounted on horses, they all rode into
a bar-room and were captured by the provost-guard, brought back to
quarters, and placed in irons that had no terrors for them.
Several prisoners recently captured in Louisiana were brought in June
1st, and three more June 9th, taken at Franklin, La. One of these
new prisoners, Hugh Dolan, became a great favorite with the sailors
immediately on arrival on account of his wonderful vocal abilities,
so they thought, and light-hearted manner. One of his favorite songs
was “Bowld Jack Donahoe,” and whenever he sang this song his nautical
audience would listen with the most profound attention.
What the “boys” considered an affliction was the removal of their
kind-hearted and friendly “old guard,” Captain Clipper’s company,
ordered to Galveston June 9th. Another company, commanded by Captain
Buster, had for some time assisted Captain Clipper in guarding the
prisoners, and remained to do that duty. The men of this company were
not liked very much by any of their charge; none of that cordial
feeling existed as had been the case with the “old guard.” They were
a despicable set of fellows. Captain Buster, a mild, pleasant man,
lacked energy and was too indolent to pay much attention to the
discipline of his men. His first-lieutenant, Morgan, was a bombastic
and disagreeable man, who paid little attention to his prisoners. This
guard remained on duty until September 18th, when militia relieved them.
Floating rumors in regard to removal up country were verified on
the thirteenth of June, when all prisoners in Houston were taken by
railroad to Camp Groce, enjoying an all-day ride upon platform freight
cars, without shelter from a hot sun. Their new home was a long, narrow
frame barrack, leaky in rainy weather, divided into three compartments,
situated about three hundred yards from the railroad, in the centre
of a dry, sandy clearing, with a few trees left for shade. This
clearing was surrounded by a belt of woods on all sides but one, and
near by was a sluggish body of swamp water bordered by cypress trees.
The place was supplied with bad water from two deep wells. Another
row of barracks, occupied by the guard, ran almost parallel to those
occupied by prisoners, at about two hundred yards distance. A few frame
buildings between these barracks and the railroad served as quarters
for Confederate officers.
The location of Camp Groce was decidedly unhealthy, and had been
abandoned by Confederate troops as a camp of instruction for this
reason. Arrangement of sinks was bad, not at all conducive to health.
Sickness prevailed to such an extent there were not enough men able to
watch and properly attend their sick companions. When a person stops to
think of what has to be done in cases where patients are too weak to
move themselves, with primitive utensils at hand to perform necessary
acts, it is a wonder how prisoners in this hospital camp managed to
exist. Each sick man remained with his mess for care and attention.
Hospital accommodations were not provided, except what was in the town
reserved for exclusive use of Confederates.
All through August, September, October and part of November, the dull
monotony of prison life wore on unattended by any hopeful news or
enlivening sensations. Communications were forwarded to General Banks,
the Secretary of War, and General Meredith, Federal Commissioner
for the exchange of prisoners, on the subject of being paroled or
exchanged. None of the prisoners then understood why the Federal
Government did not do something in their behalf. They were informed by
Colonel Sayles, who formerly commanded at Camp Groce, that repeated
efforts had been made by the Confederate authorities to induce the
Federal Government to exchange them, but the Federal authorities
repeatedly refused to listen to any propositions towards that end,
also stating that the Confederates were as anxious to get rid of their
prisoners as they were to go, and placed the responsibility for their
continued captivity on the Federal Government. This misstatement of
facts naturally caused some animosity of feeling among the prisoners
towards their own Government, losing strength each day, with sickness
and death constantly staring them in the face. They were not aware of
the obstruction existing to interrupt an exchange of prisoners; that
the Government was fighting with the enemy for a principle, the placing
of negro soldiers on a par with white troops, entitled to the common
usages of war when taken prisoners.
On the eighteenth of October a strict search was made through the
barracks, for what purpose the prisoners were not informed, but
surmised it was to ascertain if any parties in the State, Houston
in particular, had compromised themselves by writing them. News of
the arrest of Union men, especially in Houston, was often heard. In
this search all money was taken away under a promise of return, and a
receipt given. Writings, diaries and letters were seized, never to be
seen again.
A stockade was built in October completely encircling the camp, made
so high escape by climbing would be impossible, and the prisoners
became down-hearted at this indication of a possible lengthy stay,
when, on the sixteenth of November, after most of the men had retired
for the night, Colonel Burrell entered the barracks with news that
all were to be paroled as soon as the papers could be made out. Wild
excitement prevailed on the announcement of these joyous tidings, and
the night was passed without sleep, amid cheers, yells, and frantic
demonstrations of delight.
All hands commenced to get ready, by disposing of “traps” they could
spare to purchasers easily found among the guard and citizens. Parole
papers were signed by the enlisted men November 20th, and the march
for three hundred miles to Shreveport, La., commenced December 9th.
On December 11th the officers were removed to Camp Ford, Tyler, Smith
County, Texas, well understanding they must keep up courage until the
new year came in, and manage in some way to get through approaching
winter, ill-prepared as they were to stand cold weather, from having
disposed of many necessary articles of clothing to obtain money to
purchase food while on their way to the Federal lines, when they
expected to go with the enlisted men.
The following record of sundry events at Camp Groce was culled from
several diaries:
“July 4th--Celebrated in the best manner possible under the
circumstances, and was dull enough. The day was not recognized by the
Confederates. July 11th--A battalion of conscripts arrived in camp;
most of them Germans and Mexicans. July 30th--Barracks look like a
hospital. Six officers sick abed, and out of one hundred men sixty are
in the same condition. Not a man is in good health; all are ailing,
though those not in bed have to keep up and about to attend the others.
Impossible to procure suitable medicines even with money collected
among the prisoners to obtain medical supplies; none furnished by the
authorities. August 1st--Colonel Nott, Lieutenant-Colonel Duganne
and Lieutenant Sherman, 176th N. Y.; Captain Van Tyne, 131st N. Y.;
Lieutenants Bassett and Wilson, 48th Mass.; Lieutenant Humble, 4th
Mass.; and seven civilians, captured at Brashear City and on the
La-Fourche, arrived in camp. After these arrivals Sunday services
were held, Colonels Nott or Duganne officiating. August 6th--Colonel
Burrell and Captain Sherive arrived from Huntsville State Prison.
September 14th--Two hundred and twenty prisoners arrived in camp, taken
at Sabine Pass on the tenth instant. The wounded arrived September
30th. Particulars of this engagement, furnished by the captives,
caused everybody to feel sorrowful and chagrined. September 26th--A
sailor was fired on while playing ball, because he went too near the
picket line; he was not hit. October 5th--Twenty officers attached to
the U. S. gunboats _Clifton_ and _Sachem_ arrived in camp from Sabine
Pass and were confined in separate quarters, not allowed to hold any
conversation or communication with other prisoners for some time.
October 27th--Four prisoners arrived, captured in Louisiana.
A total of four officers and eighteen men died at Camp Groce; ten or
twelve were sailors. Ship Carpenter Morris, of the _Harriet Lane_,
sixty years old, died July 19th. Lieutenant Ramsey, 175th N. Y., died
October 11th; he was sick with consumption, but dysentery was the
immediate cause of death. Lieutenant Hayes, 175th N. Y., was found
dead in his bunk October 16th.
The following officers and men of the 42d died at Camp Groce, viz.:
August 1st--Private Dennis Dailey, Company D. He was a great favorite
with sailors of the _Morning Light_, with whom he generally associated.
August 22d--Lieutenant Bartlett, Company I, at one o’clock
A.M., of dysentery, after a short illness.
September 3d--Private E. F. Josselyn, Company D, in the afternoon, of
dysentery, after a long illness.
September 9th--Surgeon Cummings, in the afternoon. He was in failing
health for a month, and was unconscious for some days previous to his
death. The burial took place next day with Masonic rites, attended
by Federal and Confederate Freemasons. Lieutenant-Colonel Duganne
conducted the ceremonies.
Private Parker, Company G, was left sick in Hempstead Hospital. He died
December 14th, 1863.
The guard over the officers who marched from Camp Groce to Camp Ford
was commanded by Captain Davis, who marched them sixteen to seventeen
miles a day over the sandy and hilly roads. The march usually commenced
at seven A.M. and ended for the day between two and three
o’clock P.M. The weather was pleasant and cool nearly every
day, but cold at night. They got caught in two rain-storms, and
wet through. The officers arrived at Camp Ford about two o’clock
P.M., December 22d, after a twelve days’ tramp.
At Camp Ford the prisoners already there, mostly Western men, had built
log cabins and were quite comfortable under the circumstances. The
so-called 42d mansion was built in a few days, with help and aid from
two officers of the 19th Iowa who understood the way to construct log
cabins. Within this cabin, before a roaring log fire, while rain, snow
and hail reigned without, were passed the closing days of 1863. Snow
blew into the cabin, wetting blankets through, and fell an inch deep
upon the ground outside.
The first three months of 1864 were wearisome, with constant and
conflicting rumors of parole or exchange, and occasional news of
officers who had been exchanged, a subject of all-absorbing interest to
everybody. No description of the life they led can afford an adequate
idea of the torments to mind and body, their hopes and fears for the
future, and constant struggle to make the best of their situation until
a change came. Northern papers frequently found their way inside the
stockade to be greedily devoured for news, as they were passed around
from one to another. A newspaper from home was like a visiting angel.
Southern papers were in camp every week. A tolerable correct idea
of what was going on in the outside world, political and military,
was sifted from these papers, aided by information obtained from
Confederate officers.
To kill time the prisoners occupied themselves in repairs and
improvements on quarters for business, and visits to brother
officers, singing and dancing, for recreation. A violin, purchased by
subscription for one hundred and ten dollars Confederate money, Captain
May, 23d Conn., as violinist, and a banjo made in camp and played by
Engineer R. W. Mars, of the gunboat _Diana_, accompanied by a flute
manipulated by Captain Thomason, 176th N. Y., and a fife by E. J.
Collins, made a select orchestra to furnish appropriate music for the
dances. Gardens were started early in February, when corn, mustard,
lettuce, watermelons, squashes, onions and cotton was planted. Corn
and onions showed above ground early in March. A system of barter and
exchange in various articles was carried on among the prisoners,
affording a means to keep their wits at work if no money was made out
of the transactions. A newspaper was published, _The Old Flag_, edited
and printed by Captain May, the printing done with a pen. Editions were
issued February 17th, March 1st and 13th, that afforded great interest
to the camp. Only one copy was issued of each number, to be passed
around, read and returned to the captain. It has yet to be recorded at
what post, where Confederate prisoners were confined, did they show
so much versatility in amusing themselves as was shown by Federal
prisoners in all parts of the South.
The birthday of Washington, February 22d, was duly celebrated. All
expenses were met by a subscription among the officers in confinement.
Lieutenant-Colonel J. B. Leake, 20th Iowa, delivered an oration,
followed by an original poem, written in camp by Lieutenant-Colonel
Duganne. In the afternoon an election was held for Governor,
Lieutenant-Governor, and Inspector of Insane Asylums of Camp Ford, to
carry on a species of fun concocted at the expense of half-witted Sam
Morton, a Kansas soldier. Sam was elected Governor, and then taken in a
chair through the camp with great _eclat_. Fine singing by a glee club
and a grand ball in the evening closed the celebration.
Pending the result of efforts constantly made to obtain a parole or
exchange, attempts to escape were made at various times. Two officers
of the 26th Indiana, Lieutenants Greene and Switzer, were missed at
roll-call January 12th, and a pursuit made. The escape of these two
officers, some two weeks before this, was known to a few comrades, who
concealed their absence from roll-calls by answering for them. At last
it was decided to let their escape become known. At roll-call their
names were not answered, when a Confederate officer innocently asked:
“Does any one know where Greene and Switzer are?” An answer was given,
with a laugh, “Guess they have gone for a pair of shoes.” The two
officers were afterwards heard from as having arrived in New Orleans
after a walk of some three hundred miles, done in a month and two days.
They gave newspaper men, for publication, a detailed account of their
tramp, with names of parties who had helped them along. This published
account came into Confederate hands, and was used as an excuse for
persecuting those Union friends.
On a rainy night, March 24th, Colonel Rose and fourteen other officers
escaped early in the evening, by sliding aside a stockade post. From
a neglect to replace the post discovery of the escape soon followed,
and an alarm at once sounded. Mounted men, with bloodhounds, were
immediately on their track. Four men were brought back next day,
recaptured after they had walked twenty miles, and nine more were
retaken on the twenty-seventh. One man succeeded in making good his
bold dash for liberty. This attempt to escape was contemplated for some
time; those in the plot secretly prepared parched meal and dry beef to
carry for food. Another attempt was in progress, suggested by reading
in a paper of an escape by officers from Libby Prison, Richmond,
Va., by the tunnel process. From the 42d cabin, it was calculated a
tunnel fifty feet long would carry them outside of the stockade. It
was a double cabin, one-half occupied by Captain May’s mess, also the
editor’s _sanctum_ of the _Old Flag_. A commencement was made March
21st, the earth taken out secreted underneath bunks and carried outside
when an opportunity offered; the opening was covered by a bunk when
work was suspended. Men in this plot had worked a hole twenty-one feet
under ground March 24th, when the original stockade line was removed
to enlarge the camp, and an order was received by Colonel Allen, the
commandant, to shoot at sight any prisoner caught in attempting escape.
These two facts caused the attempt to be abandoned.
Colonel Allen was an old engineer officer in the United States Army,
and like all regular army officers disposed to treat his prisoners
as men. This disposition to do all in his power to ameliorate their
sufferings probably caused his removal May 27th, a Colonel Anderson
assuming command of the post. The policy pursued by Anderson, or rather
a drunken lieutenant-colonel under him who took charge of all matters
appertaining to the prisoners, was in an opposite direction.
Camp Ford was blessed with good water and situated upon high ground,
an improvement over Camp Groce. Yet the stockade interior was filthy,
without any system of sinks or police of grounds. This was the fault
of the prisoners, a lazy, careless, motley crowd, not disposed to take
hold of such work. Colonel Allen left such matters to those inside
the stockade. Officers who saw the necessity of a system in hygienic
matters soon gave up in disgust the attempt to force an organization
for this purpose. As is usual in such a collection of men, refusing to
recognize any superior authority except their guards, it was each man
for himself and the devil take the hindmost.
Among the imprisoned officers were several lieutenant-colonels and
majors. Colonel Burrell was one of the three officers of his rank.
As a matter of pride, to uphold the dignity of his commission, what
many officers signally failed to do, Colonel Burrell was always
scrupulously polite to Colonel Allen, never visited him except in full
uniform, transacting all business with that officer in a business
manner, and so gained his esteem and regard. Burrell maintained that
the rules in force should be respected and obeyed--he would insist on
their obeyance were he in command of such a camp--and by maintaining
dignified relations with the commandant was enabled several times
to secure a rescission of harsh orders issued by Colonel Allen, in
consequence of foolish speeches and acts done by brainless fools in the
stockade.
No medicines, no special accommodations nor post surgeon were provided
at Camp Ford. Surgeons Sherfy, 1st Indiana, and Hershy, U. S. Colored
Volunteers, did all in their power for the sick, and that could not
be much. An old surgeon in the Confederate service, formerly of the
U. S. regulars, would occasionally visit the stockade and render some
service. To him Colonel Burrell owes his life, when threatened with an
attack of typhoid fever.
The commandant’s wife, Mrs. Allen, was a visitor to the officers’
quarters at various times, frequently accompanied by other ladies.
The good impression this lady made by her visits resulted in a poem,
written by Lieutenant-Colonel Duganne, published in _The Old Flag_,
issue No. 3, March 18th, 1864.
The arrival of captured prisoners to increase the inhabitants of this
stockade town, taken from various soldiers’ diaries, were: January
22d--Captains Coulter and Torrey, 20th Iowa, captured at Arkansas Bay,
Texas, December 19th, 1863. March 5th--Six enlisted men captured at
Powder Horn, January 22d. March 30th--Between six and seven hundred
prisoners arrived from Shreveport, where they were awaiting exchange.
They were a hard-looking lot of human beings, many without shirts or
shoes, with trousers torn, ragged, or hanging in shreds. Among them
were Privates Morrill, O’Shaughnessy and McLaughlin, of the 42d. They
left Shreveport March 26th. Frank Veazie was sick in a Shreveport
hospital. He died the following May.
About sixteen hundred prisoners, captured at Pleasant Hill, La.,
arrived April 16th, 17th, 18th and 20th. To accommodate these hungry
men all hands had to keep their cooking apparatus at work on corn meal
until they were fed. The appearance these prisoners made could not have
been equalled in Falstaff’s time. Confederate soldiers robbed them of
clothing, sometimes with threats of violence if property wanted by
these greedy men was not handed over for the asking. The prisoners did
not seem to mind it, and laughingly said they would square accounts
whenever the Confederates fell into their hands as prisoners of war.
They thought it rather rough to be placed in a pen like a flock
of sheep, without food or shelter. Still, nothing better could be
expected, because the Confederates had no other safe place to guard
their prisoners. When arrangements could be completed, they were made
as comfortable as the limited means at hand would allow.
During May about eighteen hundred prisoners came in, thirteen hundred
captured in Arkansas; June 6th, one hundred; and July 6th, another
batch of one hundred and eighty prisoners from Banks’ army were brought
in. The old prisoners commenced to think, from the continued arrivals
of officers and men of the 19th Army Corps, perhaps the entire corps
would eventually be captured.
Through May, June, and up to July 9th, it cannot be said the death rate
was large, received as the men were in all conditions of health and
sickness. Six privates died in May, and one was killed by a sentry;
five died in June; five died July 1st.
With the prisoners were Chaplains Robb, 46th Indiana Vols., Hare,
--th Iowa Vols., and McCulloch, 19th Kentucky Vols., who labored hard
among the men to excite a religious sentiment, holding frequent prayer
meetings, and administered the rites of baptism to several, among them
Lieutenant Brown P. Stowell, 42d Mass., on May 22d. These religious
services met with the approval of Colonel Allen, who was a devout Free
Will Baptist.
Some talk was made about overpowering the guard, nearly one thousand
men, composed of poor material. An insurmountable difficulty was to
provide a store of food, for use when free, and a sufficient supply
of arms and ammunition, for they were nearly three hundred miles from
any safe place. Nothing was done, as it was useless to try it. Next
to parole or exchange the idea of escape occupied the most attention.
Naturally officers in command of guards were always on the lookout for
anything tending towards preparations in that direction. In February
about one hundred officers were drilled in the sabre exercise by Major
Anthony, 2d R. I. Cavalry, for instruction and pleasure, using sticks
in lieu of swords, but the post-commander summarily put a stop to it
within a few days after these drills commenced.
Attempts to escape commenced again with fresh arrivals; five men got
away at night June 9th, to be recaptured and returned next day. Several
officers succeeded in making a break for freedom at night, July 2d,
but were discovered and fired on by the guard. Nearly all of them were
recaptured next day. Captain Reed, Missouri Vols., was made to stand
bare-headed upon a stump near the guard-house for several hours in the
hot sun, as punishment for his attempted escape.
Early in June rumors of parole and exchange again began to be
circulated within the stockade. Confederate officers from Shreveport
visited the prison camp more frequently than they had heretofore
done, to make out lists and rolls of prisoners and time of capture.
News brought by Colonel Allen and the tenor of letters received from
surgeons, gone forward for exchange, raised a hope within the breasts
of those long confined that there would not be a disappointment this
time. When the chaplains, surgeons, and citizens not connected with
the army, were paroled and started for Shreveport June 19th, hope
grew into certainty. On the fifth of July, after what was termed a
glorious Fourth-of-July celebration, the joyful news was brought in the
stockade, by Colonel Burrell, that a paroling officer had arrived, and
their day of deliverance was at hand.
Through this captivity letters from home came at long intervals, with
news they were anxious to receive. Dates when letters were received by
the 42d officers are as follows: March 12th, July 29th and August 26th,
1863; March 18th, June 10th, 13th and 23d, 1864. Letters received June
10th were for Captain Savage and Lieutenant Newcomb, dated February
28th and March 4th. Captain Proctor had letters from his father and
wife dated May 12th and 23d, 1863, over a year old, as they were not
delivered to him until June 13th, 1864. After men arrived from Banks’
army, men who belonged in Boston and vicinity made themselves known to
Colonel Burrell and brother officers, some of whom had within a few
months arrived from home and could give them tolerably late news from
that section.
Clothing was furnished once by Confederate officers, at Hempstead,
October 17th, 1863; from that time onward what the prisoners wore
had to stand the wear and tear of time and use. Previous to July, in
anticipation another winter would not be passed as prisoners, whoever
had overcoats and extra clothing sold the garments for high prices in
Confederate money, and thus obtained means to purchase extra supplies
for their messes.
One thing should not be forgotten in connection with this long,
tedious imprisonment: the love of country existing in every manly
heart, despite his feeling at times the Government did neglect
him. This patriotism was not the kind flaunted before audiences by
spread-eagle political orators, all froth and no substance, but an
honest, earnest, deep-seated love, ready to suffer for her cause at all
times, resenting any flings or insults to its flag, giving voice to
sentiments within them by singing national songs and celebrations of
important days in her history.
July 7th and 8th were devoted to baking hard bread, for use on the
march, and at last the prisoners, who were up at three o’clock in
the morning preparing breakfast and getting their few “traps” ready,
left the stockade to march for Shreveport, homeward bound. There were
nine hundred and thirty officers and men, divided into one column of
officers and two columns of enlisted men, with a kind and considerate
Confederate cavalry guard, commanded by Major Smith and Captain Tucker.
Guard and prisoners fared alike in food and slept in the open air at
night: tents were not carried with them. Extreme hot weather prevailed,
yet the prisoners managed to cover a respectable number of miles each
day, crossing the Sabine River on the first day and sleeping upon its
banks at night, with a record of twenty-one miles. The marching column
reached Shreveport about noon on the thirteenth, without the loss of a
man by death, having made nineteen miles July 10th, twenty-three miles
on the eleventh, twenty-four miles on the twelfth, and sixteen miles
on the thirteenth. Sick and worn-out men were sent by the Marshall and
Shreveport Railroad on the twelfth, and this railroad also transported
a portion of the prisoners on the thirteenth. About twenty officers
hired a six-mule team for five hundred Confederate dollars, to carry
them on the last day’s journey, and rode into camp in great style. Each
morning the men were up between three and four o’clock, commenced the
march within an hour after, plodding steadily along until eleven, when
a rest was taken until two o’clock, then the march again resumed until
evening.
At Mugginsville, one mile from Shreveport, the prisoners remained until
July 16th, when they were sent on board steamers _Osceola_, _General
Hodges_ and _B. L. Hodge_, bound for Alexandria, where they arrived at
dusk July 18th, above the dam built by Federals to save their naval
vessels in April and May, 1864, and were disembarked to camp in woods
by the river side until the twenty-first, when steamers were ready
below the dam to carry them on to the journey’s end. Three men died
July 18th, and were buried near a spot upon the banks where lay the
remains of several Federal sailors.
All hands were up at daylight July 21st. At seven o’clock they marched
two miles to Alexandria, crossed Red River on a pontoon bridge and
embarked upon steamers _Champion No. 3_ and _Relf_, bound for the mouth
of Red River. An extract from a diary, kept by an officer of the 42d
Mass., is here given:
“July 22d, 1864--We started about noon yesterday, and ran all night;
arrived at the mouth of Red River as the sun was about one and one-half
hours high, and were brought to a stop by a shot from one of our
gunboats on blockading service. None of our transports were there,
and we began to have some misgivings. All eyes were turned down the
Mississippi, with anxiety depicted on many faces. About one o’clock
smoke was seen coming up river, indicating a river steamer was on her
way, and the prisoners began to cheer. Soon, sure enough, there was
our flag flying within hailing distance, but we are still prisoners;
perhaps no exchange after all, but be turned back to the tender care of
“Johnny Reb” again. But no, it proves to be the _Nebraska_ with rebel
prisoners on board. We landed and went aboard the _Nebraska_ as soon
as we could, and gave six rousing cheers for the ‘Old Flag.’ Stop and
look at the comparison of the two squads of prisoners. Those coming
from our lines for the Confederacy are loaded down with clothing, boots
and trunks. Our men are bare-footed, shirtless and hatless; but I thank
God I am once more a free man. None but those that have been placed in
like circumstances can appreciate the change. We were given a feast
on the _Nebraska_. We had plenty of coffee, real ‘Lincoln’ coffee, no
parched rye; and butter! real butter, and bakers’ bread! Well! I have
had some good dinners before and since then, but that feast took the
cake. Good-by to corn-dodger and bull-beef. It all seemed like a dream.
The boys were up until about three o’clock next morning, singing and
enjoying themselves.”
The exchanged officers of the 42d Regiment arrived in New Orleans
at midnight July 23d, where they remained until the thirty-first,
receiving two months’ pay from a paymaster to meet their immediate
wants. None of the officers got back their swords they were entitled to
retain by the terms of surrender. The swords were taken from them by a
provost-marshal at Houston, properly marked with each man’s name, with
an understanding they would be given up when each officer was paroled
or exchanged. It is needless to say they were soon appropriated by any
Confederate officer who was in need of one.
Taking passage upon the steamer _Matanzas_, July 31st, bound for New
York, after a pleasant run of seven days they were once more within
easy communication with families and friends, who met them on arrival
in Boston, August 9th, _via_ the Fall River route from New York. All
were in tolerable fair health except Lieutenant Stowell, who was in
bad condition, and Lieutenant Cowdin, sick with chronic diarrhœa. An
escort in waiting, with music, consisting of past and present officers
and men of the 42d Regiment and the Boston Independent Fusileers,
escorted their guests to the American House, where breakfast was served
and a cordial welcome tendered by His Honor Mayor Lincoln and the
military committee of the City Government.
Governor Andrew could not be present, and sent the following letter:
“COMMONWEALTH OF MASSACHUSETTS,
“EXECUTIVE DEPARTMENT,
“BOSTON, August 9th, 1864.
“COLONEL W. W. CLAPP, JR., &c., &c.:
“_My dear Colonel_,--I have this moment received your note of
invitation to attend the breakfast at ten o’clock this morning, given
in welcome of Colonel Burrell and his associates. The long captivity of
those brave and patriotic men has earned for them every consideration,
even if their qualities as soldiers had been less conspicuous than
they are. In all respects, however, deserving gratitude and honor,
and deserving all the sympathy of true and manly hearts for what they
have suffered in our common cause, I shall, though absent in person,
unite in heart with your expressions of grateful applause and welcome
for these honored guests. My return to headquarters yesterday, after a
valuable work of service elsewhere, leaves me, for the present, not an
hour which during the daytime I can withdraw from the accumulated work
which brooks no delay.
“I am faithfully your friend and servant,
“JOHN A. ANDREW.”
With repeated disasters attending expeditions to Western Louisiana and
Texas, that are a part of history, and failures attending every attempt
to permanently occupy such territory, the following remarks at this
breakfast, made by Colonel Burrell, are not without reason. He said: “I
hardly know what to say. I thank your Honor for your kind expression
of welcome. We have suffered long, but I do not know as we have done
more than our duty. I can hardly be expected to make a speech, for I
have been living a half-civilized life among half-civilized people for
nearly the last two years. I know our friends at home were doing all
in their power to obtain our release, but fate has seemed to be always
against us. For my soldiers and officers I can say that they have
behaved with courage and cheerfulness; their fortitude has been worthy
of men of Massachusetts. They have behaved with credit to their state
and to their country. I come home prouder than ever of my native city.
As soon as we are somewhat recovered from our fatigues and sufferings,
we will be ready to put on the harness and return to the field again.
“I have enjoyed much opportunity of communication with men from all
parts of the Southern Confederacy, and I believe that you entertain
an erroneous opinion of them. You believe that there exists among the
masses an extended Union sentiment. It is not so. They go into this war
with all their heart and soul. The little Union feeling among the class
of poor whites amounts to nothing. They are opposed to us, man, woman
and child. They are fighting with the spirit of ’76, for their rights,
homes, liberties. They put up with every privation to sustain their
army--and every man is in the army. The quicker we understand this the
better for us. I do not think we shall accomplish much until we take
hold of the work in earnest.
“In the section where I have been the enemy is three times stronger
than they were two years ago. Now an army of 40,000 men cannot
penetrate the country one hundred miles. They have an army of 40,000
men. They carry no equipage--they sling their blankets with a bit of
cotton rope, and are all ready for an expedition. We must take our
blankets on our shoulders--we cannot fight with army trains. I repeat,
in order to carry on this war to a successful termination, we must
fight them on their own ground and fight them in earnest.”
After this breakfast Colonel Burrell and his officers were escorted to
Roxbury by the Roxbury Artillery Association, where another reception
was given them by their townspeople.
August 10th the officers met at the Parker House, proceeded to the
State House and reported to Adjutant-General Schouler, then to
Major Clarke, U. S. Army, to receive their final pay, then to Major
McCafferty, U. S. mustering-officer, and were mustered out of service,
after being in “Uncle Sam’s” employ about twenty-one months--eighteen
months and twenty-one days of the time as prisoners of war.