ANDERSONVILLE A STORY OF REBEL MILITARY PRISONS

 FIFTEEN MONTHS A GUEST OF THE SO-CALLED SOUTHERN CONFEDERACY

 A PRIVATE SOLDIERS EXPERIENCE IN RICHMOND, ANDERSONVILLE, SAVANNAH, MILLEN BLACKSHEAR AND FLORENCE

 BY JOHN McELROY Late of Co. L. 16th Ill Cav. 1879

VOLUME 2. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

A NEW LOT OF PRISONERS--THE BATTLE OF OOLUSTEE--MEN SACRIFICED TO AGENERAL'S INCOMPETENCY--A HOODLUM REINFORCEMENT--A QUEER CROWD--MISTREATMENT OF AN OFFICER OF A COLORED REGIMENT--KILLING THE SERGEANT OFA NEGRO SQUAD. 

So far only old prisoners--those taken at Gettysburg, Chicamauga and MineRun--had been brought in. The armies had been very quiet during theWinter, preparing for the death grapple in the Spring. There had beennothing done, save a few cavalry raids, such as our own, and Averill'sattempt to gain and break up the Rebel salt works at Wytheville, andSaltville. Consequently none but a few cavalry prisoners were added tothe number already in the hands of the Rebels. 

The first lot of new ones came in about the middle of March. There wereabout seven hundred of them, who had been captured at the battle ofOolustee, Fla. , on the 20th of February. About five hundred of them werewhite, and belonged to the Seventh Connecticut, the Seventh NewHampshire, Forty Seventh, Forty-Eighth and One Hundred and Fifteenth NewYork, and Sherman's regular battery. The rest were colored, and belongedto the Eighth United States, and Fifty-Fourth Massachusetts. The storythey told of the battle was one which had many shameful reiterationsduring the war. It was the story told whenever Banks, Sturgis, Butler, or one of a host of similar smaller failures were trusted with commands. It was a senseless waste of the lives of private soldiers, and theproperty of the United States by pretentious blunderers, who, in someinscrutable manner, had attained to responsible commands. In thisinstance, a bungling Brigadier named Seymore had marched his forcesacross the State of Florida, to do he hardly knew what, and in theneighborhood of an enemy of whose numbers, disposition, location, andintentions he was profoundly ignorant. The Rebels, under GeneralFinnegan, waited till he had strung his command along through swampsand cane brakes, scores of miles from his supports, and then fellunexpectedly upon his advance. The regiment was overpowered, and anotherregiment that hurried up to its support, suffered the same fate. Thebalance of the regiments were sent in in the same manner--each arrivingon the field just after its predecessor had been thoroughly whipped bythe concentrated force of the Rebels. The men fought gallantly, but thestupidity of a Commanding General is a thing that the gods themselvesstrive against in vain. We suffered a humiliating defeat, with a loss oftwo thousand men and a fine rifled battery, which was brought toAndersonville and placed in position to command the prison. 

The majority of the Seventh New Hampshire were an unwelcome addition toour numbers. They were N'Yaarkers--old time colleagues of those alreadyin with us--veteran bounty jumpers, that had been drawn to New Hampshireby the size of the bounty offered there, and had been assigned to fill upthe wasted ranks of the veteran Seventh regiment. They had tried todesert as soon as they received their bounty, but the Government clung tothem literally with hooks of steel, sending many of them to the regimentin irons. Thus foiled, they deserted to the Rebels during the retreatfrom the battlefield. They were quite an accession to the force of ourN'Yaarkers, and helped much to establish the hoodlum reign which wasshortly inaugurated over the whole prison. 

The Forty-Eighth New Yorkers who came in were a set of chaps so odd inevery way as to be a source of never-failing interest. The name of theirregiment was 'L'Enfants Perdu' (the Lost Children), which we anglicizedinto "The Lost Ducks. " It was believed that every nation in Europe wasrepresented in their ranks, and it used to be said jocularly, that no twoof them spoke the same language. As near as I could find out they wereall or nearly all South Europeans, Italians, Spaniards; Portuguese, Levantines, with a predominance of the French element. They wore alittle cap with an upturned brim, and a strap resting on the chin, a coatwith funny little tales about two inches long, and a brass chain acrossthe breast; and for pantaloons they had a sort of a petticoat reaching tothe knees, and sewed together down the middle. They were just assingular otherwise as in their looks, speech and uniform. On oneoccasion the whole mob of us went over in a mass to their squad to seethem cook and eat a large water snake, which two of them had succeeded incapturing in the swamps, and carried off to their mess, jabbering in highglee over their treasure trove. Any of us were ready to eat a piece ofdog, cat, horse or mule, if we could get it, but, it was generallyagreed, as Dawson, of my company expressed it, that "Nobody but one ofthem darned queer Lost Ducks would eat a varmint like a water snake. "

Major Albert Bogle, of the Eighth United States, (colored) had falleninto the hands of the rebels by reason of a severe wound in the leg, which left him helpless upon the field at Oolustee. The Rebels treatedhim with studied indignity. They utterly refused to recognize him as anofficer, or even as a man. Instead of being sent to Macon or Columbia, where the other officers were, he was sent to Andersonville, the same asan enlisted man. No care was given his wound, no surgeon would examineit or dress it. He was thrown into a stock car, without a bed orblanket, and hauled over the rough, jolting road to Andersonville. Once a Rebel officer rode up and fired several shots at him, as he layhelpless on the car floor. Fortunately the Rebel's marksmanship was asbad as his intentions, and none of the shots took effect. He was placedin a squad near me, and compelled to get up and hobble into line when therest were mustered for roll-call. No opportunity to insult, "the niggerofficer, " was neglected, and the N'Yaarkers vied with the Rebels inheaping abuse upon him. He was a fine, intelligent young man, and boreit all with dignified self-possession, until after a lapse of some weeksthe Rebels changed their policy and took him from the prison to send towhere the other officers were. 

The negro soldiers were also treated as badly as possible. The woundedwere turned into the Stockade without having their hurts attended to. One stalwart, soldierly Sergeant had received a bullet which had forcedits way under the scalp for some distance, and partially imbedded itselfin the skull, where it still remained. He suffered intense agony, andwould pass the whole night walking up and down the street in front of ourtent, moaning distressingly. The bullet could be felt plainly with thefingers, and we were sure that it would not be a minute's work, with asharp knife, to remove it and give the man relief. But we could notprevail upon the Rebel Surgeons even to see the man. Finallyinflammation set in and he died. 

The negros were made into a squad by themselves, and taken out every dayto work around the prison. A white Sergeant was placed over them, whowas the object of the contumely of the guards and other Rebels. One dayas he was standing near the gate, waiting his orders to come out, thegate guard, without any provocation whatever, dropped his gun until themuzzle rested against the Sergeant's stomach, and fired, killing himinstantly. 

The Sergeantcy was then offered to me, but as I had no accident policy, Iwas constrained to decline the honor. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

APRIL--LONGING TO GET OUT--THE DEATH RATE--THE PLAGUE OF LICE--THE SO-CALLED HOSPITAL. 

April brought sunny skies and balmy weather. Existence became much moretolerable. With freedom it would have been enjoyable, even had we beenno better fed, clothed and sheltered. But imprisonment had never seemedso hard to bear--even in the first few weeks--as now. It was easier tosubmit to confinement to a limited area, when cold and rain were aidinghunger to benumb the faculties and chill the energies than it was now, when Nature was rousing her slumbering forces to activity, and earth, and air and sky were filled with stimulus to man to imitate her example. The yearning to be up and doing something-to turn these golden hours togood account for self and country--pressed into heart and brain as thevivifying sap pressed into tree-duct and plant cell, awaking allvegetation to energetic life. 

To be compelled, at such a time, to lie around in vacuous idleness--to spend days that should be crowded full of action in a monotonous, objectless routine of hunting lice, gathering at roll-call, and drawingand cooking our scanty rations, was torturing. 

But to many of our number the aspirations for freedom were not, as withus, the desire for a wider, manlier field of action, so much as anintense longing to get where care and comforts would arrest their swiftprogress to the shadowy hereafter. The cruel rains had sapped away theirstamina, and they could not recover it with the meager and innutritiousdiet of coarse meal, and an occasional scrap of salt meat. Quickconsumption, bronchitis, pneumonia, low fever and diarrhea seized uponthese ready victims for their ravages, and bore them off at the rate ofnearly a score a day. 

It now became a part of, the day's regular routine to take a walk pastthe gates in the morning, inspect and count the dead, and see if anyfriends were among them. Clothes having by this time become a veryimportant consideration with the prisoners, it was the custom of the messin which a man died to remove from his person all garments that were ofany account, and so many bodies were carried out nearly naked. The handswere crossed upon the breast, the big toes tied together with a bit ofstring, and a slip of paper containing the man's name, rank, company andregiment was pinned on the breast of his shirt. 

The appearance of the dead was indescribably ghastly. The unclosed eyesshone with a stony glitter--

 An orphan's curse would drag to hell A spirit from on high: But, O, more terrible than that, Is the curse in a dead man's eye. 

The lips and nostrils were distorted with pain and hunger, the sallow, dirt-grimed skin drawn tensely over the facial bones, and the wholeframed with the long, lank, matted hair and beard. Millions of liceswarmed over the wasted limbs and ridged ribs. These verminous pests hadbecome so numerous--owing to our lack of changes of clothing, and offacilities for boiling what we had--that the most a healthy man coulddo was to keep the number feeding upon his person down to a reasonablelimit--say a few tablespoonfuls. When a man became so sick as to beunable to help himself, the parasites speedily increased into millions, or, to speak more comprehensively, into pints and quarts. It did noteven seem exaggeration when some one declared that he had seen a deadman with more than a gallon of lice on him. 

There is no doubt that the irritation from the biting of these myriadsmaterially the days of those who died. 

Where a sick man had friends or comrades, of course part of their duty, in taking care of him, was to "louse" his clothing. One of the mosteffectual ways of doing this was to turn the garments wrong side out andhold the seams as close to the fire as possible, without burning thecloth. In a short time the lice would swell up and burst open, likepop-corn. This method was a favorite one for another reason than itsefficacy: it gave one a keener sense of revenge upon his rascally littletormentors than he could get in any other way. 

As the weather grew warmer and the number in the prison increased, thelice became more unendurable. They even filled the hot sand under ourfeet, and voracious troops would climb up on one like streams of antsswarming up a tree. We began to have a full comprehension of the thirdplague with which the Lord visited the Egyptians:

 And the Lord said unto Moses, Say unto Aaron, Stretch out thy rod, and smite the dust of the land, that it may become lice through all the land of Egypt. 

 And they did so; for Aaron stretched out his hand with his rod, and smote the dust of the earth, and it became lice in man and in beast; all the dust of the land became lice throughout all the land of Egypt. 

The total number of deaths in April, according to the official report, was five hundred and seventy-six, or an average of over nineteen a day. There was an average of five thousand prisoner's in the pen during allbut the last few days of the month, when the number was increased by thearrival of the captured garrison of Plymouth. This would make the lossover eleven per cent. , and so worse than decimation. At that rate weshould all have died in about eight months. We could have gone through asharp campaign lasting those thirty days and not lost so great aproportion of our forces. The British had about as many men as were inthe Stockade at the battle of New Orleans, yet their loss in killed fellmuch short of the deaths in the pen in April. 

A makeshift of a hospital was established in the northeastern corner ofthe Stockade. A portion of the ground was divided from the rest of theprison by a railing, a few tent flies were stretched, and in these thelong leaves of the pine were made into apologies for beds of about thegoodness of the straw on which a Northern farmer beds his stock. Thesick taken there were no better off than if they had staid with theircomrades. 

What they needed to bring about their recovery was clean clothing, nutritious food, shelter and freedom from the tortures of the lice. They obtained none of these. Save a few decoctions of roots, there wereno medicines; the sick were fed the same coarse corn meal that broughtabout the malignant dysentery from which they all suffered; they wore andslept in the same vermin-infested clothes, and there could be but oneresult: the official records show that seventy-six per cent. Of thosetaken to the hospitals died there. 

The establishment of the hospital was specially unfortunate for my littlesquad. The ground required for it compelled a general reduction of thespace we all occupied. We had to tear down our huts and move. By thistime the materials had become so dry that we could not rebuild with them, as the pine tufts fell to pieces. This reduced the tent and beddingmaterial of our party--now numbering five--to a cavalry overcoat and ablanket. We scooped a hole a foot deep in the sand and stuck ourtent-poles around it. By day we spread our blanket over the poles for atent. At night we lay down upon the overcoat and covered ourselves withthe blanket. It required considerable stretching to make it go overfive; the two out side fellows used to get very chilly, and squeeze thethree inside ones until they felt no thicker than a wafer. But it hadto do, and we took turns sleeping on the outside. In the course of afew weeks three of my chums died and left myself and B. B. Andrews (nowDr. Andrews, of Astoria, Ill. ) sole heirs to and occupants of, theovercoat and blanket. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

THE "PLYMOUTH PILGRIMS"--SAD TRANSITION FROM COMFORTABLE BARRACKS TOANDERSONVILLE--A CRAZED PENNSYLVANIAN--DEVELOPMENT OF THE BUTLERBUSINESS. 

We awoke one morning, in the last part of April, to find about twothousand freshly arrived prisoners lying asleep in the main streetsrunning from the gates. They were attired in stylish new uniforms, with fancy hats and shoes; the Sergeants and Corporals wore patentleather or silk chevrons, and each man had a large, well-filled knapsack, of the kind new recruits usually carried on coming first to the front, and which the older soldiers spoke of humorously as "bureaus. " They werethe snuggest, nattiest lot of soldiers we had ever seen, outside of the"paper collar" fellows forming the headquarter guard of some General in alarge City. As one of my companions surveyed them, he said:

"Hulloa! I'm blanked if the Johnnies haven't caught a regiment ofBrigadier Generals, somewhere. "

By-and-by the "fresh fish, " as all new arrivals were termed, began towake up, and then we learned that they belonged to a brigade consistingof the Eighty-Fifth New York, One Hundred and First and One Hundred andThird Pennsylvania, Sixteenth Connecticut, Twenty-Fourth New YorkBattery, two companies of Massachusetts heavy artillery, and a company ofthe Twelfth New York Cavalry. 

They had been garrisoning Plymouth, N. C. , an important seaport on theRoanoke River. Three small gunboats assisted them in their duty. TheRebels constructed a powerful iron clad called the "Albemarle, " at apoint further up the Roanoke, and on the afternoon of the 17th, with herand three brigades of infantry, made an attack upon the post. The "Albemarle" ran past the forts unharmed, sank one of the gunboats, and drove the others away. She then turned her attention to thegarrison, which she took in the rear, while the infantry attacked infront. Our men held out until the 20th, when they capitulated. They were allowed to retain their personal effects, of all kinds, and, as is the case with all men in garrison, these were considerable. 

The One Hundred and First and One Hundred and Third Pennsylvania andEighty-Fifth New York had just "veteranized, " and received their firstinstalment of veteran bounty. Had they not been attacked they would havesailed for home in a day or two, on their veteran furlough, and thisaccounted for their fine raiment. They were made up of boys from goodNew York and Pennsylvania families, and were, as a rule, intelligent andfairly educated. 

Their horror at the appearance of their place of incarceration was beyondexpression. At one moment they could not comprehend that we dirty andhaggard tatterdemalions had once been clean, self-respecting, well-fedsoldiers like themselves; at the next they would affirm that they knewthey could not stand it a month, in here we had then endured it from fourto nine months. They took it, in every way, the hardest of any prisonersthat came in, except some of the 'Hundred-Days' men, who were brought inin August, from the Valley of Virginia. They had served nearly all theirtime in various garrisons along the seacoast--from Fortress Monroe toBeaufort--where they had had comparatively little of the actual hardshipsof soldiering in the field. They had nearly always had comfortablequarters, an abundance of food, few hard marches or other severe service. Consequently they were not so well hardened for Andersonville as themajority who came in. In other respects they were better prepared, as they had an abundance of clothing, blankets and cooking utensils, and each man had some of his veteran bounty still in possession. 

It was painful to see how rapidly many of them sank under the miseries ofthe situation. They gave up the moment the gates were closed upon them, and began pining away. We older prisoners buoyed ourselves upcontinually with hopes of escape or exchange. We dug tunnels with thepersistence of beavers, and we watched every possible opportunity to getoutside the accursed walls of the pen. But we could not enlist theinterest of these discouraged ones in any of our schemes, or talk. They resigned themselves to Death, and waited despondingly till he came. 

A middle-aged One Hundred and First Pennsylvanian, who had taken up hisquarters near me, was an object of peculiar interest. Reasonablyintelligent and fairly read, I presume that he was a respectable mechanicbefore entering the Army. He was evidently a very domestic man, whosewhole happiness centered in his family. 

When he first came in he was thoroughly dazed by the greatness of hismisfortune. He would sit for hours with his face in his hands and hiselbows on his knees, gazing out upon the mass of men and huts, withvacant, lack-luster eyes. We could not interest him in anything. We tried to show him how to fix his blanket up to give him some shelter, but he went at the work in a disheartened way, and finally smiled feeblyand stopped. He had some letters from his family and a melaineotype of aplain-faced woman--his wife--and her children, and spent much time inlooking at them. At first he ate his rations when he drew them, butfinally began to reject, them. In a few days he was delirious withhunger and homesick ness. He would sit on the sand for hours imaginingthat he was at his family table, dispensing his frugal hospitalities tohis wife and children. 

Making a motion, as if presenting a dish, he would say:

"Janie, have another biscuit, do!"

Or, "Eddie, son, won't you have another piece of this nice steak?"

Or, "Maggie, have some more potatos, " and so on, through a whole family ofsix, or more. It was a relief to us when he died in about a month afterhe came in. 

As stated above, the Plymouth men brought in a large amount of money--variously estimated at from ten thousand to one hundred thousand dollars. The presence of this quantity of circulating medium immediately started alively commerce. All sorts of devices were resorted to by the otherprisoners to get a little of this wealth. Rude chuck-a-luck boards wereconstructed out of such material as was attainable, and put in operation. Dice and cards were brought out by those skilled in such matters. As those of us already in the Stockade occupied all the ground, there wasno disposition on the part of many to surrender a portion of their spacewithout exacting a pecuniary compensation. Messes having ground in agood location would frequently demand and get ten dollars for permissionfor two or three to quarter with them. Then there was a great demand forpoles to stretch blankets over to make tents; the Rebels, with theirusual stupid cruelty, would not supply these, nor allow the prisoners togo out and get them themselves. Many of the older prisoners had poles tospare which they were saying up for fuel. They sold these to thePlymouth folks at the rate of ten dollars for three--enough to put up ablanket. 

The most considerable trading was done through the gates. The Rebelguards were found quite as keen to barter as they had been in Richmond. Though the laws against their dealing in the money of the enemy werestill as stringent as ever, their thirst for greenbacks was not abatedone whit, and they were ready to sell anything they had for the covetedcurrency. The rate of exchange was seven or eight dollars in Confederatemoney for one dollar in greenbacks. Wood, tobacco, meat, flour, beans, molasses, onions and a villainous kind of whisky made from sorghum, werethe staple articles of trade. A whole race of little traffickers inthese articles sprang up, and finally Selden, the Rebel Quartermaster, established a sutler shop in the center of the North Side, which he putin charge of Ira Beverly, of the One Hundredth Ohio, and CharlieHuckleby, of the Eighth Tennessee. It was a fine illustration of thedevelopment of the commercial instinct in some men. No more unlikelyplace for making money could be imagined, yet starting in without a cent, they contrived to turn and twist and trade, until they had transferred totheir pockets a portion of the funds which were in some one else's. The Rebels, of course, got nine out of every ten dollars there was in theprison, but these middle men contrived to have a little of it stick totheir fingers. 

It was only the very few who were able to do this. Nine hundred andninety-nine out of every thousand were, like myself, either whollydestitute of money and unable to get it from anybody else, or they paidout what money they had to the middlemen, in exorbitant prices forarticles of food. 

The N'Yaarkers had still another method for getting food, money, blanketsand clothing. They formed little bands called "Raiders, " under theleadership of a chief villain. One of these bands would select as theirvictim a man who had good blankets, clothes, a watch, or greenbacks. Frequently he would be one of the little traders, with a sack of beans, a piece of meat, or something of that kind. Pouncing upon him at nightthey would snatch away his possessions, knock down his friends who cameto his assistance, and scurry away into the darkness. 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

LONGINGS FOR GOD'S COUNTRY--CONSIDERATIONS OF THE METHODS OF GETTINGTHERE--EXCHANGE AND ESCAPE--DIGGING TUNNELS, AND THE DIFFICULTIESCONNECTED THEREWITH--PUNISHMENT OF A TRAITOR. 

To our minds the world now contained but two grand divisions, as widelydifferent from each other as happiness and misery. The first--thatportion over which our flag floated was usually spoken of as "God'sCountry;" the other--that under the baneful shadow of the banner ofrebellion--was designated by the most opprobrious epithets at thespeaker's command. 

To get from the latter to the former was to attain, at one bound, thehighest good. Better to be a doorkeeper in the House of the Lord, underthe Stars and Stripes, than to dwell in the tents of wickedness, underthe hateful Southern Cross. 

To take even the humblest and hardest of service in the field now wouldbe a delightsome change. We did not ask to go home--we would be contentwith anything, so long as it was in that blest place "within our lines. "Only let us get back once, and there would be no more grumbling atrations or guard duty--we would willingly endure all the hardships andprivations that soldier flesh is heir to. 

There were two ways of getting back--escape and exchange. Exchange waslike the ever receding mirage of the desert, that lures the thirstytraveler on over the parched sands, with illusions of refreshing springs, only to leave his bones at last to whiten by the side of those of hisunremembered predecessors. Every day there came something to build upthe hopes that exchange was near at hand--every day brought something toextinguish the hopes of the preceding one. We took these varying phasesaccording to our several temperaments. The sanguine built themselves upon the encouraging reports; the desponding sank down and died under thediscouraging ones. 

Escape was a perpetual allurement. To the actively inclined among us itseemed always possible, and daring, busy brains were indefatigable inconcocting schemes for it. The only bit of Rebel brain work that I eversaw for which I did not feel contempt was the perfect precautions takento prevent our escape. This is shown by the fact that, although, fromfirst to last, there were nearly fifty thousand prisoners inAndersonville, and three out of every five of these were ever on thealert to take French leave of their captors, only three hundred andtwenty-eight succeeded in getting so far away from Andersonville as toleave it to be presumed that they had reached our lines. 

The first, and almost superhuman difficulty was to get outside theStockade. It was simply impossible to scale it. The guards were tooclose together to allow an instant's hope to the most sanguine, that hecould even pass the Dead Line without being shot by some one of them. This same closeness prevented any hope of bribing them. To be successfulhalf those on post would have to be bribed, as every part of the Stockadewas clearly visible from every other part, and there was no night so darkas not to allow a plain view to a number of guards of the dark figureoutlined against the light colored logs of any Yankee who should essay toclamber towards the top of the palisades. 

The gates were so carefully guarded every time they were opened as topreclude hope of slipping out through theme. They were only unclosedtwice or thrice a day--once to admit, the men to call the roll, once tolet them out again, once to let the wagons come in with rations, andonce, perhaps, to admit, new prisoners. At all these times everyprecaution was taken to prevent any one getting out surreptitiously. 

This narrowed down the possibilities of passing the limits of the penalive, to tunneling. This was also surrounded by almost insuperabledifficulties. First, it required not less than fifty feet ofsubterranean excavation to get out, which was an enormous work with ourlimited means. Then the logs forming the Stockade were set in the groundto a depth of five feet, and the tunnel had to go down beneath them. They had an unpleasant habit of dropping down into the burrow under them. It added much to the discouragements of tunneling to think of one ofthese massive timbers dropping upon a fellow as he worked his mole-likeway under it, and either crushing him to death outright, or pinning himthere to die of suffocation or hunger. 

In one instance, in a tunnel near me, but in which I was not interested, the log slipped down after the digger had got out beyond it. He immediately began digging for the surface, for life, and wasfortunately able to break through before he suffocated. He got his headabove the ground, and then fainted. The guard outside saw him, pulledhim out of the hole, and when he recovered sensibility hurried him backinto the Stockade. 

In another tunnel, also near us, a broad-shouldered German, of the SecondMinnesota, went in to take his turn at digging. He was so much largerthan any of his predecessors that he stuck fast in a narrow part, anddespite all the efforts of himself and comrades, it was found impossibleto move him one way or the other. The comrades were at last reduced tothe humiliation of informing the Officer of the Guard of their tunnel andthe condition of their friend, and of asking assistance to release him, which was given. 

The great tunneling tool was the indispensable half-canteen. Theinventive genius of our people, stimulated by the war, produced nothingfor the comfort and effectiveness of the soldier equal in usefulness tothis humble and unrecognized utensil. It will be remembered that acanteen was composed of two pieces of tin struck up into the shape ofsaucers, and soldered together at the edges. After a soldier had been inthe field a little while, and thrown away or lost the curious andcomplicated kitchen furniture he started out with, he found that bymelting the halves of his canteen apart, he had a vessel much handier inevery way than any he had parted with. It could be used for anything--to make soup or coffee in, bake bread, brown coffee, stew vegetables, etc. , etc. A sufficient handle was made with a split stick. When thecooking was done, the handle was thrown away, and the half canteenslipped out of the road into the haversack. There seemed to be no end ofthe uses to which this ever-ready disk of blackened sheet iron could beturned. Several instances are on record where infantry regiments, withno other tools than this, covered themselves on the field with quiterespectable rifle pits. 

The starting point of a tunnel was always some tent close to the DeadLine, and sufficiently well closed to screen the operations from thesight of the guards near by. The party engaged in the work organized bygiving every man a number to secure the proper apportionment of thelabor. Number One began digging with his half canteen. After he hadworked until tired, he came out, and Number Two took his place, and soon. The tunnel was simply a round, rat-like burrow, a little larger thana man's body. The digger lay on his stomach, dug ahead of him, threw thedirt under him, and worked it back with his feet till the man behind him, also lying on his stomach, could catch it and work it back to the next. As the tunnel lengthened the number of men behind each other in this wayhad to be increased, so that in a tunnel seventy-five feet long therewould be from eight to ten men lying one behind the other. When the dirtwas pushed back to the mouth of the tunnel it was taken up in improvisedbags, made by tying up the bottoms of pantaloon legs, carried to theSwamp, and emptied. The work in the tunnel was very exhausting, and thedigger had to be relieved every half-hour. 

The greatest trouble was to carry the tunnel forward in a straight line. As nearly everybody dug most of the time with the right hand, there wasan almost irresistible tendency to make the course veer to the left. Thefirst tunnel I was connected with was a ludicrous illustration of this. About twenty of us had devoted our nights for over a week to theprolongation of a burrow. We had not yet reached the Stockade, whichastonished us, as measurement with a string showed that we had gonenearly twice the distance necessary for the purpose. The thing wasinexplicable, and we ceased operations to consider the matter. The nextday a man walking by a tent some little distance from the one in whichthe hole began, was badly startled by the ground giving way under hisfeet, and his sinking nearly to his waist in a hole. It was verysingular, but after wondering over the matter for some hours, there camea glimmer of suspicion that it might be, in some way, connected with themissing end of our tunnel. One of us started through on an exploringexpedition, and confirmed the suspicions by coming out where the man hadbroken through. Our tunnel was shaped like a horse shoe, and thebeginning and end were not fifteen feet apart. After that we practiseddigging with our left hand, and made certain compensations for thetendency to the sinister side. 

Another trouble connected with tunneling was the number of traitors andspies among us. There were many--principally among the N'Yaarker crowdwho were always zealous to betray a tunnel, in order to curry favor withthe Rebel officers. Then, again, the Rebels had numbers of their own menin the pen at night, as spies. It was hardly even necessary to dressthese in our uniform, because a great many of our own men came into theprison in Rebel clothes, having been compelled to trade garments withtheir captors. 

One day in May, quite an excitement was raised by the detection of one ofthese "tunnel traitors" in such a way as left no doubt of his guilt. At first everybody was in favor of killing him, and they actually startedto beat him to death. This was arrested by a proposition to "haveCaptain Jack tattoo him, " and the suggestion was immediately acted upon. 

"Captain Jack" was a sailor who had been with us in the Pembertonbuilding at Richmond. He was a very skilful tattoo artist, but, I amsure, could make the process nastier than any other that I ever sawattempt it. He chewed tobacco enormously. After pricking away for a fewminutes at the design on the arm or some portion of the body, he woulddeluge it with a flood of tobacco spit, which, he claimed, acted as akind of mordant. Piping this off with a filthy rag, he would study theeffect for an instant, and then go ahead with another series of prickingsand tobacco juice drenchings. 

The tunnel-traitor was taken to Captain Jack. That worthy decided tobrand him with a great "T, " the top part to extend across his foreheadand the stem to run down his nose. Captain Jack got his tattooing kitready, and the fellow was thrown upon the ground and held there. TheCaptain took his head between his legs, and began operations. After aninstant's work with the needles, he opened his mouth, and filled thewretch's face and eyes full of the disgusting saliva. The crowd roundabout yelled with delight at this new process. For an hour, that wasdoubtless an eternity to the rascal undergoing branding, Captain Jackcontinued his alternate pickings and drenchings. At the end of that timethe traitor's face was disfigured with a hideous mark that he would bearto his grave. We learned afterwards that he was not one of our men, buta Rebel spy. This added much to our satisfaction with the manner of histreatment. He disappeared shortly after the operation was finished, being, I suppose, taken outside. I hardly think Captain Jack would bepleased to meet him again. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE HOUNDS, AND THE DIFFICULTIES THEY PUT IN THE WAY OF ESCAPE--THE WHOLE SOUTH PATROLLED BY THEM. 

Those who succeeded, one way or another, in passing the Stockade limits, found still more difficulties lying between them and freedom than woulddiscourage ordinarily resolute men. The first was to get away from theimmediate vicinity of the prison. All around were Rebel patrols, picketsand guards, watching every avenue of egress. Several packs of houndsformed efficient coadjutors of these, and were more dreaded by possible"escapes, " than any other means at the command of our jailors. Guardsand patrols could be evaded, or circumvented, but the hounds could not. Nearly every man brought back from a futile attempt at escape told thesame story: he had been able to escape the human Rebels, but not theircanine colleagues. Three of our detachment--members of the TwentiethIndiana--had an experience of this kind that will serve to illustratehundreds of others. They had been taken outside to do some work upon thecook-house that was being built. A guard was sent with the three alittle distance into the woods to get a piece of timber. The boyssauntered, along carelessly with the guard, and managed to get prettynear him. As soon as they were fairly out of sight of the rest, thestrongest of them--Tom Williams--snatched the Rebel's gun away from him, and the other two springing upon him as swift as wild cats, throttledhim, so that he could not give the alarm. Still keeping a hand on histhroat, they led him off some distance, and tied him to a sapling withstrings made by tearing up one of their blouses. He was also securelygagged, and the boys, bidding him a hasty, but not specially tender, farewell, struck out, as they fondly hoped, for freedom. It was not longuntil they were missed, and the parties sent in search found and releasedthe guard, who gave all the information he possessed as to what hadbecome of his charges. All the packs of hounds, the squads of cavalry, and the foot patrols were sent out to scour the adjacent country. The Yankees kept in the swamps and creeks, and no trace of them was foundthat afternoon or evening. By this time they were ten or fifteen milesaway, and thought that they could safely leave the creeks for betterwalking on the solid ground. They had gone but a few miles, when thepack of hounds Captain Wirz was with took their trail, and came afterthem in full cry. The boys tried to ran, but, exhausted as they were, they could make no headway. Two of them were soon caught, but TomWilliams, who was so desperate that he preferred death to recapture, jumped into a mill-pond near by. When he came up, it was in a lot ofsaw logs and drift wood that hid him from being seen from the shore. The dogs stopped at the shore, and bayed after the disappearing prey. The Rebels with them, who had seen Tom spring in, came up and made apretty thorough search for him. As they did not think to probe aroundthe drift wood this was unsuccessful, and they came to the conclusionthat Tom had been drowned. Wirz marched the other two back and, for awonder, did not punish them, probably because he was so rejoiced at hissuccess in capturing them. He was beaming with delight when he returnedthem to our squad, and said, with a chuckle:

"Brisoners, I pring you pack two of dem tam Yankees wat got awayyesterday, unt I run de oder raskal into a mill-pont and trowntet him. "

What was our astonishment, about three weeks later, to see Tom, fat andhealthy, and dressed in a full suit of butternut, come stalking into thepen. He had nearly reached the mountains, when a pack of hounds, patrolling for deserters or negros, took his trail, where he had crossedthe road from one field to another, and speedily ran him down. He hadbeen put in a little country jail, and well fed till an opportunityoccurred to send him back. This patrolling for negros and deserters wasanother of the great obstacles to a successful passage through thecountry. The rebels had put, every able-bodied white man in the ranks, and were bending every energy to keep him there. The whole country wascarefully policed by Provost Marshals to bring out those who wereshirking military duty, or had deserted their colors, and to check anymovement by the negros. One could not go anywhere without a pass, asevery road was continually watched by men and hounds. It was the policyof our men, when escaping, to avoid roads as much as possible bytraveling through the woods and fields. 

From what I saw of the hounds, and what I could learn from others, I believe that each pack was made up of two bloodhounds and fromtwenty-five to fifty other dogs. The bloodhounds were debaseddescendants of the strong and fierce hounds imported from Cuba--many ofthem by the United States Government--for hunting Indians, during theSeminole war. The other dogs were the mongrels that are found in suchplentifulness about every Southern house--increasing, as a rule, innumbers as the inhabitant of the house is lower down and poorer. Theyare like wolves, sneaking and cowardly when alone, fierce and bold whenin packs. Each pack was managed by a well-armed man, who rode a mule;and carried, slung over his shoulders by a cord, a cow horn, scrapedvery thin, with which he controlled the band by signals. 

What always puzzled me much was why the hounds took only Yankee trails, in the vicinity of the prison. There was about the Stockade from sixthousand to ten thousand Rebels and negros, including guards, officers, servants, workmen, etc. These were, of course, continually in motion andmust have daily made trails leading in every direction. It was thecustom of the Rebels to send a pack of hounds around the prison everymorning, to examine if any Yankees had escaped during the night. It wasbelieved that they rarely failed to find a prisoner's tracks, and stillmore rarely ran off upon a Rebel's. If those outside the Stockade hadbeen confined to certain path and roads we could have understood this, but, as I understand, they were not. It was part of the interest of theday, for us, to watch the packs go yelping around the pen searching fortracks. We got information in this way whether any tunnel had beensuccessfully opened during the night. 

The use of hounds furnished us a crushing reply to the ever recurringRebel question:

"Why are you-uns puttin' niggers in the field to fight we-uns for?"

The questioner was always silenced by the return interrogatory:

"Is that as bad as running white men down with blood hounds?"

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

MAY--INFLUX OF NEW PRISONERS--DISPARITY IN NUMBERS BETWEEN THE EASTERNAND WESTERN ARMIES--TERRIBLE CROWDING--SLAUGHTER OF MEN AT THE CREEK. 

In May the long gathering storm of war burst with angry violence allalong the line held by the contending armies. The campaign began whichwas to terminate eleven months later in the obliteration of the SouthernConfederacy. May 1, Sigel moved up the Shenandoah Valley with thirtythousand men; May 3, Butler began his blundering movement againstPetersburg; May 3, the Army of the Potomac left Culpeper, and on the 5thbegan its deadly grapple with Lee, in the Wilderness; May 6, Shermanmoved from Chattanooga, and engaged Joe Johnston at Rocky Face Ridge andTunnel Hill. 

Each of these columns lost heavily in prisoners. It could not beotherwise; it was a consequence of the aggressive movements. An armyacting offensively usually suffers more from capture than one on thedefensive. Our armies were penetrating the enemy's country in closeproximity to a determined and vigilant foe. Every scout, every skirmishline, every picket, every foraging party ran the risk of falling into aRebel trap. This was in addition to the risk of capture in action. 

The bulk of the prisoners were taken from the Army of the Potomac. Forthis there were two reasons: First, that there were many more men in thatArmy than in any other; and second, that the entanglement in the densethickets and shrubbery of the Wilderness enabled both sides to capturegreat numbers of the other's men. Grant lost in prisoners from May 5 toMay 31, seven thousand four hundred and fifty; he probably capturedtwo-thirds of that number from the Johnnies. 

Wirz's headquarters were established in a large log house which had beenbuilt in the fort a little distant from the southeast corner of theprison. Every day--and sometimes twice or thrice a day--we would seegreat squads of prisoners marched up to these headquarters, where theywould be searched, their names entered upon the prison records, by clerks(detailed prisoners; few Rebels had the requisite clerical skill) andthen be marched into the prison. As they entered, the Rebel guards wouldstand to arms. The infantry would be in line of battle, the cavalrymounted, and the artillerymen standing by their guns, ready to open atthe instant with grape and canister. 

The disparity between the number coming in from the Army of the Potomacand Western armies was so great, that we Westerners began to take someadvantage of it. If we saw a squad of one hundred and fifty orthereabouts at the headquarters, we felt pretty certain they were fromSherman, and gathered to meet them, and learn the news from our friends. If there were from five hundred to two thousand we knew they were fromthe Army of the Potomac, and there were none of our comrades among them. There were three exceptions to this rule while we were in Andersonville. The first was in June, when the drunken and incompetent Sturgis (nowColonel of the Seventh United States Cavalry) shamefully sacrificed asuperb division at Guntown, Miss. The next was after Hood made hisdesperate attack on Sherman, on the 22d of July, and the third was whenStoneman was captured at Macon. At each of these times about twothousand prisoners were brought in. 

By the end of May there were eighteen thousand four hundred andfifty-four prisoners in the Stockade. Before the reader dismisses thisstatement from his mind let him reflect how great a number this is. It is more active, able-bodied young men than there are in any of ourleading Cities, save New York and Philadelphia. It is more than theaverage population of an Ohio County. It is four times as many troops asTaylor won the victory of Buena Vista with, and about twice as many asScott went into battle with at any time in his march to the City ofMexico. 

These eighteen thousand four hundred and fifty-four men were cooped up onless than thirteen acres of ground, making about fifteen hundred to theacre. No room could be given up for streets, or for the usualarrangements of a camp, and most kinds of exercise were wholly precluded. The men crowded together like pigs nesting in the woods on cold nights. The ground, despite all our efforts, became indescribably filthy, andthis condition grew rapidly worse as the season advanced and the sun'srays gained fervency. As it is impossible to describe this adequately, I must again ask the reader to assist with a few comparisons. He has anidea of how much filth is produced, on an ordinary City lot, in a week, by its occupation by a family say of six persons. Now let him imaginewhat would be the result if that lot, instead of having upon it sixpersons, with every appliance for keeping themselves clean, and forremoving and concealing filth, was the home of one hundred and eight men, with none of these appliances. 

That he may figure out these proportions for himself, I will repeat someof the elements of the problem: We will say that an average City lot isthirty feet front by one hundred deep. This is more front than most ofthem have, but we will be liberal. This gives us a surface of threethousand square feet. An acre contains forty-three thousand five hundredand sixty square feet. Upon thirteen of these acres, we had eighteenthousand four hundred and fifty-four men. After he has found the numberof square feet that each man had for sleeping apartment, dining room, kitchen, exercise grounds and outhouses, and decided that nobody couldlive for any length of time in such contracted space, I will tell himthat a few weeks later double that many men were crowded upon that spacethat over thirty-five thousand were packed upon those twelve and a-halfor thirteen acres. 

But I will not anticipate. With the warm weather the condition of theswamp in the center of the prison became simply horrible. We hear somuch now-a-days of blood poisoning from the effluvia of sinks and sewers, that reading it, I wonder how a man inside the Stockade, and into whosenostrils came a breath of that noisomeness, escaped being carried off bya malignant typhus. In the slimy ooze were billions of white maggots. They would crawl out by thousands on the warm sand, and, lying there afew minutes, sprout a wing or a pair of them. With these they wouldessay a clumsy flight, ending by dropping down upon some exposed portionof a man's body, and stinging him like a gad-fly. Still worse, theywould drop into what he was cooking, and the utmost care could notprevent a mess of food from being contaminated with them. 

All the water that we had to use was that in the creek which flowedthrough this seething mass of corruption, and received its sewerage. How pure the water was when it came into the Stockade was a question. We always believed that it received the drainage from the camps of theguards, a half-a-mile away. 

A road was made across the swamp, along the Dead Line at the west side, where the creek entered the pen. Those getting water would go to thisspot, and reach as far up the stream as possible, to get the water thatwas least filthy. As they could reach nearly to the Dead Line thisfurnished an excuse to such of the guards as were murderously inclined tofire upon them. I think I hazard nothing in saying that for weeks atleast one man a day was killed at this place. The murders becamemonotonous; there was a dreadful sameness to them. A gun would crack;looking up we would see, still smoking, the muzzle of the musket of oneof the guards on either side of the creek. At the same instant wouldrise a piercing shriek from the man struck, now floundering in the creekin his death agony. Then thousands of throats would yell out curses anddenunciations, and--

"O, give the Rebel ---- ---- ---- ---- a furlough!"

It was our belief that every guard who killed a Yankee was rewarded witha thirty-day furlough. Mr. Frederick Holliger, now of Toledo, formerly amember of the Seventy-Second Ohio, and captured at Guntown, tells me, ashis introduction to Andersonville life, that a few hours after his entryhe went to the brook to get a drink, reached out too far, and was firedupon by the guard, who missed him, but killed another man and wounded asecond. The other prisoners standing near then attacked him, and beathim nearly to death, for having drawn the fire of the guard. 

Nothing could be more inexcusable than these murders. Whatever defensethere might be for firing on men who touched the Dead Line in other partsof the prison, there could be none here. The men had no intention ofescaping; they had no designs upon the Stockade; they were not leadingany party to assail it. They were in every instance killed in the act ofreaching out with their cups to dip up a little water. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

SOME DISTINCTION BETWEEN SOLDIERLY DUTY AND MURDER--A PLOT TO ESCAPE--IT IS REVEALED AND FRUSTRATED. 

Let the reader understand that in any strictures I make I do not complainof the necessary hardships of war. I understood fully and accepted theconditions of a soldier's career. My going into the field uniformed andarmed implied an intention, at least, of killing, wounding, or capturing, some of the enemy. There was consequently no ground of complaint if Iwas, myself killed, wounded, or captured. If I did not want to takethese chances I ought to stay at home. In the same way, I recognized theright of our captors or guards to take proper precautions to prevent ourescape. I never questioned for an instant the right of a guard to fireupon those attempting to escape, and to kill them. Had I been postedover prisoners I should have had no compunction about shooting at thosetrying to get away, and consequently I could not blame the Rebels fordoing the same thing. It was a matter of soldierly duty. 

But not one of the men assassinated by the guards at Andersonville weretrying to escape, nor could they have got away if not arrested by abullet. In a majority of instances there was not even a transgression ofa prison rule, and when there was such a transgression it was a mereharmless inadvertence. The slaying of every man there was a foul crime. 

The most of this was done by very young boys; some of it by old men. The Twenty-Sixth Alabama and Fifty-Fifth Georgia, had guarded us sincethe opening of the prison, but now they were ordered to the field, andtheir places filled by the Georgia "Reserves, " an organization of boysunder, and men over the military age. As General Grant aptly-phrased it, "They had robbed the cradle and the grave, " in forming these regiments. The boys, who had grown up from children since the war began, could notcomprehend that a Yankee was a human being, or that it was any morewrongful to shoot one than to kill a mad dog. Their young imaginationshad been inflamed with stories of the total depravity of the Unionistsuntil they believed it was a meritorious thing to seize every opportunityto exterminate them. 

Early one morning I overheard a conversation between two of theseyouthful guards:

"Say, Bill, I heerd that you shot a Yank last night?"

"Now, you just bet I did. God! you jest ought to've heerd him holler. "

Evidently the juvenile murderer had no more conception that he hadcommitted crime than if he had killed a rattlesnake. 

Among those who came in about the last of the month were two thousand menfrom Butler's command, lost in the disastrous action of May 15, by whichButler was "bottled up" at Bermuda Hundreds. At that time the Rebelhatred for Butler verged on insanity, and they vented this upon these menwho were so luckless--in every sense--as to be in his command. Everypains was taken to mistreat them. Stripped of every article of clothing, equipment, and cooking utensils--everything, except a shirt and a pair ofpantaloons, they were turned bareheaded and barefooted into the prison, and the worst possible place in the pen hunted out to locate them upon. This was under the bank, at the edge of the Swamp and at the eastern sideof the prison, where the sinks were, and all filth from the upper part ofthe camp flowed down to them. The sand upon which they lay was dry andburning as that of a tropical desert; they were without the slightestshelter of any kind, the maggot flies swarmed over them, and the stenchwas frightful. If one of them survived the germ theory of disease is ahallucination. 

The increasing number of prisoners made it necessary for the Rebels toimprove their means of guarding and holding us in check. They threw up aline of rifle pits around the Stockade for the infantry guards. At intervals along this were piles of hand grenades, which could be usedwith fearful effect in case of an outbreak. A strong star fort wasthrown up at a little distance from the southwest corner. Eleven fieldpieces were mounted in this in such a way as to rake the Stockadediagonally. A smaller fort, mounting five guns, was built at thenorthwest corner, and at the northeast and southeast corners were smalllunettes, with a couple of howitzers each. Packed as we were we hadreason to dread a single round from any of these works, which could notfail to produce fearful havoc. 

Still a plot was concocted for a break, and it seemed to the sanguineportions of us that it must prove successful. First a secret society wasorganized, bound by the most stringent oaths that could be devised. The members of this were divided into companies of fifty men each; underofficers regularly elected. The secrecy was assumed in order to shut outRebel spies and the traitors from a knowledge of the contemplatedoutbreak. A man named Baker--belonging, I think, to some New Yorkregiment--was the grand organizer of the scheme. We were careful in eachof our companies to admit none to membership except such as longacquaintance gave us entire confidence in. 

The plan was to dig large tunnels to the Stockade at various places, andthen hollow out the ground at the foot of the timbers, so that a halfdozen or so could be pushed over with a little effort, and make a gap tenor twelve feet wide. All these were to be thrown down at a preconcertedsignal, the companies were to rush out and seize the eleven guns of theheadquarters fort. The Plymouth Brigade was then to man these and turnthem on the camp of the Reserves who, it was imagined, would drop theirarms and take to their heels after receiving a round or so of shell. We would gather what arms we could, and place them in the hands of themost active and determined. This would give us frown eight to tenthousand fairly armed, resolute men, with which we thought we could marchto Appalachicola Bay, or to Sherman. 

We worked energetically at our tunnels, which soon began to assume suchshape as to give assurance that they would answer our expectations inopening the prison walls. 

Then came the usual blight to all such enterprises: a spy or a traitorrevealed everything to Wirz. One day a guard came in, seized Baker andtook him out. What was done with him I know not; we never heard of himafter he passed the inner gate. 

Immediately afterward all the Sergeants of detachments were summonedoutside. There they met Wirz, who made a speech informing them that heknew all the details of the plot, and had made sufficient preparations todefeat it. The guard had been strongly reinforced, and disposed in sucha manner as to protect the guns from capture. The Stockade had beensecured to prevent its falling, even if undermined. He said, inaddition, that Sherman had been badly defeated by Johnston, and drivenback across the river, so that any hopes of co-operation by him would beill-founded. 

When the Sergeants returned, he caused the following notice to be postedon the gates:

 NOTICE. 

 Not wishing to shed the blood of hundreds, not connected with those who concocted a mad plan to force the Stockade, and make in this way their escape, I hereby warn the leaders and those who formed themselves into a band to carry out this, that I am in possession of all the facts, and have made my dispositions accordingly, so as to frustrate it. No choice would be left me but to open with grape and canister on the Stockade, and what effect this would have, in this densely crowded place, need not be told. 

 May 25, 1864. H. Wirz. 

The next day a line of tall poles, bearing white flags, were put up atsome little distance from the Dead Line, and a notice was read to us atroll call that if, except at roll call, any gathering exceeding onehundred was observed, closer the Stockade than these poles, the gunswould open with grape and canister without warning. 

The number of deaths in the Stockade in May was seven hundred and eight, about as many as had been killed in Sherman's army during the same time. 

CHAPTER XXX. 

JUNE--POSSIBILITIES OF A MURDEROUS CANNONADE--WHAT WAS PROPOSED TO BEDONE IN THAT EVENT--A FALSE ALARM--DETERIORATION OF THE RATIONS--FEARFUL INCREASE OF MORTALITY. 

After Wirz's threat of grape and canister upon the slightest provocation, we lived in daily apprehension of some pretext being found for openingthe guns upon us for a general massacre. Bitter experience had longsince taught us that the Rebels rarely threatened in vain. Wirz, especially, was much more likely to kill without warning, than to warnwithout killing. This was because of the essential weakness of hisnature. He knew no art of government, no method of discipline save "killthem!" His petty little mind's scope reached no further. He couldconceive of no other way of managing men than the punishment of everyoffense, or seeming offense, with death. Men who have any talent forgoverning find little occasion for the death penalty. The stronger theyare in themselves--the more fitted for controlling others--the less theirneed of enforcing their authority by harsh measures. 

There was a general expression of determination among the prisoners toanswer any cannonade with a desperate attempt to force the Stockade. It was agreed that anything was better than dying like rats in a pit orwild animals in a battue. It was believed that if anything would occurwhich would rouse half those in the pen to make a headlong effort inconcert, the palisade could be scaled, and the gates carried, and, thoughit would be at a fearful loss of life, the majority of those makingthe attempt would get out. If the Rebels would discharge grape andcanister, or throw a shell into the prison, it would lash everybody tosuch a pitch that they would see that the sole forlorn hope of safety layin wresting the arms away from our tormentors. The great element in ourfavor was the shortness of the distance between us and the cannon. We could hope to traverse this before the guns could be reloaded morethan once. 

Whether it would have been possible to succeed I am unable to say. It would have depended wholly upon the spirit and unanimity with whichthe effort was made. Had ten thousand rushed forward at once, each witha determination to do or die, I think it would have been successfulwithout a loss of a tenth of the number. But the insuperable trouble--inour disorganized state--was want of concert of action. I am quite sure, however, that the attempt would have been made had the guns opened. 

One day, while the agitation of this matter was feverish, I was cookingmy dinner--that is, boiling my pitiful little ration of unsalted meal, inmy fruit can, with the aid of a handful of splinters that I had been ableto pick up by a half day's diligent search. Suddenly the long rifle inthe headquarters fort rang out angrily. A fuse shell shrieked across theprison--close to the tops of the logs, and burst in the woods beyond. It was answered with a yell of defiance from ten thousand throats. 

I sprang up-my heart in my mouth. The long dreaded time had arrived; theRebels had opened the massacre in which they must exterminate us, or wethem. 

I looked across to the opposite bank, on which were standing twelvethousand men--erect, excited, defiant. I was sure that at the next shotthey would surge straight against the Stockade like a mighty humanbillow, and then a carnage would begin the like of which modern times hadnever seen. 

The excitement and suspense were terrible. We waited for what seemedages for the next gun. It was not fired. Old Winder was merely showingthe prisoners how he could rally the guards to oppose an outbreak. Though the gun had a shell in it, it was merely a signal, and the guardscame double-quicking up by regiments, going into position in the riflepits and the hand-grenade piles. 

As we realized what the whole affair meant, we relieved our surchargedfeelings with a few general yells of execration upon Rebels generally, and upon those around us particularly, and resumed our occupation ofcooking rations, killing lice, and discussing the prospects of exchangeand escape. 

The rations, like everything else about us, had steadily grown worse. A bakery was built outside of the Stockade in May and our meal was bakedthere into loaves about the size of brick. Each of us got a half of oneof these for a day's ration. This, and occasionally a small slice ofsalt pork, was call that I received. I wish the reader would preparehimself an object lesson as to how little life can be supported on forany length of time, by procuring a piece of corn bread the size of anordinary brickbat, and a thin slice of pork, and then imagine how hewould fare, with that as his sole daily ration, for long hungry weeks andmonths. Dio Lewis satisfied himself that he could sustain life on sixtycents, a week. I am sure that the food furnished us by the Rebels wouldnot, at present prices cost one-third that. They pretended to give usone-third of pound of bacon and one and one-fourth pounds of corn meal. A week's rations then would be two and one-third pounds of bacon--worthten cents, and eight and three-fourths pounds of meal, worth, say, tencents more. As a matter of fact, I do not presume that at any time wegot this full ration. It would surprise me to learn that we averagedtwo-thirds of it. 

The meal was ground very coarse and produced great irrition in thebowels. We used to have the most frightful cramps that men ever sufferedfrom. Those who were predisposed intestinal affections were speedilycarried off by incurable diarrhea and dysentery. Of the twelve thousandand twelve men who died, four thousand died of chronic diarrhea; eighthundred and seventeen died of acute diarrhea, and one thousand threehundred and eighty-four died of dysenteria, making total of six thousandtwo hundred and one victims to enteric disorders. 

Let the reader reflect a moment upon this number, till comprehends fullyhow many six thousand two hundred and men are, and how much force, energy, training, and rich possibilities for the good of the communityand country died with those six thousand two hundred and one young, active men. It may help his perception of the magnitude of this numberto remember that the total loss of the British, during the Crimean war, by death in all shapes, was four thousand five hundred and ninety-five, or one thousand seven hundred and six less than the deaths inAndersonville from dysenteric diseases alone. 

The loathsome maggot flies swarmed about the bakery, and dropped into thetrough where the dough was being mixed, so that it was rare to get aration of bread not contaminated with a few of them. 

It was not long until the bakery became inadequate to supply bread forall the prisoners. Then great iron kettles were set, and mush was issuedto a number of detachments, instead of bread. There was not so muchcleanliness and care in preparing this as a farmer shows in cooking foodfor stock. A deep wagon-bed would be shoveled full of the smoking paste, which was then hailed inside and issued out to the detachments, thelatter receiving it on blankets, pieces of shelter tents, or, lackingeven these, upon the bare sand. 

As still more prisoners came in, neither bread nor mush could befurnished them, and a part of the detachments received their rations inmeal. Earnest solicitation at length resulted in having occasionalscanty issues of wood to cook this with. My detachment was allowed tochoose which it would take--bread, mush or meal. It took the latter. 

Cooking the meal was the topic of daily interest. There were three waysof doing it: Bread, mush and "dumplings. " In the latter the meal wasdampened until it would hold together, and was rolled into little balls, the size of marbles, which were then boiled. The bread was the mostsatisfactory and nourishing; the mush the bulkiest--it made a biggershow, but did not stay with one so long. The dumplings held anintermediate position--the water in which they were boiled becoming asort of a broth that helped to stay the stomach. We received no salt, as a rule. No one knows the intense longing for this, when one goeswithout it for a while. When, after a privation of weeks we would get ateaspoonful of salt apiece, it seemed as if every muscle in our bodieswas invigorated. We traded buttons to the guards for red peppers, andmade our mush, or bread, or dumplings, hot with the fiery-pods, in hopesthat this would make up for the lack of salt, but it was a failure. One pinch of salt was worth all the pepper pods in the SouthernConfederacy. My little squad--now diminished by death from five tothree--cooked our rations together to economize wood and waste of meal, and quarreled among ourselves daily as to whether the joint stock shouldbe converted into bread, mush or dumplings. The decision depended uponthe state of the stomach. If very hungry, we made mush; if lessfamished, dumplings; if disposed to weigh matters, bread. 

This may seem a trifling matter, but it was far from it. We all rememberthe man who was very fond of white beans, but after having fifty or sixtymeals of them in succession, began to find a suspicion of monotony in theprovender. We had now six months of unvarying diet of corn meal andwater, and even so slight a change as a variation in the way of combiningthe two was an agreeable novelty. 

At the end of June there were twenty-six thousand three hundred andsixty-seven prisoners in the Stockade, and one thousand two hundred--justforty per day--had died during the month. 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

DYING BY INCHES--SEITZ, THE SLOW, AND HIS DEATH--STIGGALL AND EMERSON--RAVAGES ON THE SCURVY. 

May and June made sad havoc in the already thin ranks of our battalion. Nearly a score died in my company--L--and the other companies sufferedproportionately. Among the first to die of my company comrades, was agenial little Corporal, "Billy" Phillips--who was a favorite with us all. Everything was done for him that kindness could suggest, but it was oflittle avail. Then "Bruno" Weeks--a young boy, the son of a preacher, who had run away from his home in Fulton County, Ohio, to join us, succumbed to hardship and privation. 

The next to go was good-natured, harmless Victor Seitz, a Detroit cigarmaker, a German, and one of the slowest of created mortals. How he evercame to go into the cavalry was beyond the wildest surmises of hiscomrades. Why his supernatural slowness and clumsiness did not result inhis being killed at least once a day, while in the service, was evenstill farther beyond the power of conjecture. No accident ever happenedin the company that Seitz did not have some share in. Did a horse fallon a slippery road, it was almost sure to be Seitz's, and that importedson of the Fatherland was equally sure to be caught under him. Didsomebody tumble over a bank of a dark night, it was Seitz that we soonheard making his way back, swearing in deep German gutterals, withfrequent allusion to 'tausend teuflin. ' Did a shanty blow down, we ranover and pulled Seitz out of the debris, when he would exclaim:

"Zo! dot vos pretty vunny now, ain't it?"

And as he surveyed the scene of his trouble with true German phlegm, hewould fish a brier-wood pipe from the recesses of his pockets, fill itwith tobacco, and go plodding off in a cloud of smoke in search of somefresh way to narrowly escape destruction. He did not know enough abouthorses to put a snaffle-bit in one's mouth, and yet he would draw thefriskiest, most mettlesome animal in the corral, upon whose back he wasscarcely more at home than he would be upon a slack rope. It was nouncommon thing to see a horse break out of ranks, and go past thebattalion like the wind, with poor Seitz clinging to his mane like thetraditional grim Death to a deceased African. We then knew that Seitzhad thoughtlessly sunk the keen spurs he would persist in wearing; deepinto the flanks of his high-mettled animal. 

These accidents became so much a matter-of-course that when anythingunusual occurred in the company our first impulse was to go and helpSeitz out. 

When the bugle sounded "boots and saddles, " the rest of us would pack up, mount, "count off by fours from the right, " and be ready to move outbefore the last notes of the call had fairly died away. Just then wewould notice an unsaddled horse still tied to the hitching place. It wasSeitz's, and that worthy would be seen approaching, pipe in mouth, andbridle in hand, with calm, equable steps, as if any time before theexpiration of his enlistment would be soon enough to accomplish thesaddling of his steed. A chorus of impatient and derisive remarks wouldgo up from his impatient comrades:

"For heaven's sake, Seitz, hurry up!"

"Seitz! you are like a cow's tail--always behind!"

"Seitz, you are slower than the second coming of the Savior!"

"Christmas is a railroad train alongside of you, Seitz!"

"If you ain't on that horse in half a second, Seitz, we'll go off andleave you, and the Johnnies will skin you alive!" etc. , etc. 

Not a ripple of emotion would roll over Seitz's placid features under thesharpest of these objurgations. At last, losing all patience, two orthree boys would dismount, run to Seitz's horse, pack, saddle and bridlehim, as if he were struck with a whirlwind. Then Seitz would mount, andwe would move 'off. 

For all this, we liked him. His good nature was boundless, and hisdisposition to oblige equal to the severest test. He did not lack agrain of his full share of the calm, steadfast courage of his race, andwould stay where he was put, though Erebus yawned and bade him fly. He was very useful, despite his unfitness for many of the duties of acavalryman. He was a good guard, and always ready to take charge ofprisoners, or be sentry around wagons or a forage pile-duties that mostof the boys cordially hated. 

But he came into the last trouble at Andersonville. He stood up prettywell under the hardships of Belle Isle, but lost his cheerfulness--hisunrepining calmness--after a few weeks in the Stockade. One day weremembered that none of us had seen him for several days, and we startedin search of him. We found him in a distant part of the camp, lying nearthe Dead Line. His long fair hair was matted together, his blue eyes hadthe flush of fever. Every part of his clothing was gray with the licethat were hastening his death with their torments. He uttered the firstcomplaint I ever heard him make, as I came up to him:

"My Gott, M ----, dis is worse dun a dog's det!"

In a few days we gave him all the funeral in our power; tied his big toestogether, folded his hands across his breast, pinned to his shirt a slipof paper, upon which was written:

 VICTOR E. SEITZ, Co. L, Sixteenth Illinois Cavalry. 

And laid his body at the South Gate, beside some scores of others thatwere awaiting the arrival of the six-mule wagon that hauled them to thePotter's Field, which was to be their last resting-place. 

John Emerson and John Stiggall, of my company, were two Norwegian boys, and fine specimens of their race--intelligent, faithful, and always readyfor duty. They had an affection for each other that reminded one of thestories told of the sworn attachment and the unfailing devotion that werecommon between two Gothic warrior youths. Coming into Andersonville somelittle time after the rest of us, they found all the desirable groundtaken up, and they established their quarters at the base of the hill, near the Swamp. There they dug a little hole to lie in, and put in alayer of pine leaves. Between them they had an overcoat and a blanket. At night they lay upon the coat and covered themselves with the blanket. By day the blanket served as a tent. The hardships and annoyances thatwe endured made everybody else cross and irritable. At times it seemedimpossible to say or listen to pleasant words, and nobody was everallowed to go any length of time spoiling for a fight. He could usuallybe accommodated upon the spot to any extent he desired, by simply makinghis wishes known. Even the best of chums would have sharp quarrels andbrisk fights, and this disposition increased as disease made greaterinroads upon them. I saw in one instance two brothers-both of whom diedthe next day of scurvy--and who were so helpless as to be unable to rise, pull themselves up on their knees by clenching the poles of their tents--in order to strike each other with clubs, and they kept striking untilthe bystanders interfered and took their weapons away from them. 

But Stiggall and Emerson never quarreled with each other. Theirtenderness and affection were remarkable to witness. They began to gothe way that so many were going; diarrhea and scurvy set in; they wastedaway till their muscles and tissues almost disappeared, leaving the skinlying fiat upon the bones; but their principal solicitude was for eachother, and each seemed actually jealous of any person else doing anythingfor the other. I met Emerson one day, with one leg drawn clear out ofshape, and rendered almost useless by the scurvy. He was very weak, butwas hobbling down towards the Creek with a bucket made from a boot leg. I said:

"Johnny, just give me your bucket. I'll fill it for you, and bring it upto your tent. "

"No; much obliged, M ----" he wheezed out; "my pardner wants a cooldrink, and I guess I'd better get it for him. "

Stiggall died in June. He was one of the first victims of scurvy, which, in the succeeding few weeks, carried off so many. All of us who had readsea-stories had read much of this disease and its horrors, but we hadlittle conception of the dreadful reality. It usually manifested itselffirst in the mouth. The breath became unbearably fetid; the gums swelleduntil they protruded, livid and disgusting, beyond the lips. The teethbecame so loose that they frequently fell out, and the sufferer wouldpick them up and set them back in their sockets. In attempting to bitethe hard corn bread furnished by the bakery the teeth often stuck fastand were pulled out. The gums had a fashion of breaking away, in largechunks, which would be swallowed or spit out. All the time one waseating his mouth would be filled with blood, fragments of gums andloosened teeth. 

Frightful, malignant ulcers appeared in other parts of the body; theever-present maggot flies laid eggs in these, and soon worms swarmedtherein. The sufferer looked and felt as if, though he yet lived andmoved, his body was anticipating the rotting it would undergo a littlelater in the grave. 

The last change was ushered in by the lower parts of the legs swelling. When this appeared, we considered the man doomed. We all had scurvy, more or less, but as long as it kept out of our legs we were hopeful. First, the ankle joints swelled, then the foot became useless. Theswelling increased until the knees became stiff, and the skin from thesedown was distended until it looked pale, colorless and transparent as atightly blown bladder. The leg was so much larger at the bottom than atthe thigh, that the sufferers used to make grim jokes about being modeledlike a churn, "with the biggest end down. " The man then became utterlyhelpless and usually died in a short time. 

The official report puts down the number of deaths from scurvy at threethousand five hundred and seventy-four, but Dr. Jones, the Rebel surgeon, reported to the Rebel Government his belief that nine-tenths of the greatmortality of the prison was due, either directly or indirectly, to thiscause. 

The only effort made by the Rebel doctors to check its ravages wasoccasionally to give a handful of sumach berries to some particularly badcase. 

When Stiggall died we thought Emerson would certainly follow him in a dayor two, but, to our surprise, he lingered along until August beforedying. 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

"OLE BOO, " AND "OLE SOL, THE HAYMAKER"--A FETID, BURNING DESERT--NOISOMEWATER, AND THE EFFECTS OF DRINKING IT--STEALING SOFT SOAP. 

The gradually lengthening Summer days were insufferably long andwearisome. Each was hotter, longer and more tedious than itspredecessors. In my company was a none-too-bright fellow, named Dawson. During the chilly rains or the nipping, winds of our first days inprison, Dawson would, as he rose in, the morning, survey the forbiddingskies with lack-luster eyes and remark, oracularly:

"Well, Ole Boo gits us agin, to-day. "

He was so unvarying in this salutation to the morn that his designationof disagreeable weather as "Ole Boo" became generally adopted by us. When the hot weather came on, Dawson's remark, upon rising and seeingexcellent prospects for a scorcher, changed to: "Well, Ole Sol, theHaymaker, is going to git in his work on us agin to-day. "

As long as he lived and was able to talk, this was Dawson's invariableobservation at the break of day. 

He was quite right. The Ole Haymaker would do some famous work before hedescended in the West, sending his level rays through the wideinterstices between the somber pines. 

By nine o'clock in the morning his beams would begin to fairly singeeverything in the crowded pen. The hot sand would glow as one sees it inthe center of the unshaded highway some scorching noon in August. Thehigh walls of the prison prevented the circulation inside of any breezethat might be in motion, while the foul stench rising from the putridSwamp and the rotting ground seemed to reach the skies. 

One can readily comprehend the horrors of death on the burning sands ofa desert. But the desert sand is at least clean; there is nothing worseabout it than heat and intense dryness. It is not, as that was atAndersonville, poisoned with the excretions of thousands of sick anddying men, filled with disgusting vermin, and loading the air with thegerms of death. The difference is as that between a brick-kiln and asewer. Should the fates ever decide that I shall be flung out upon sandsto perish, I beg that the hottest place in the Sahara may be selected, rather than such a spot as the interior of the Andersonville Stockade. 

It may be said that we had an abundance of water, which made a decidedimprovement on a desert. Doubtless--had that water been pure. But everymouthful of it was a blood poison, and helped promote disease and death. Even before reaching the Stockade it was so polluted by the drainage ofthe Rebel camps as to be utterly unfit for human use. In our part of theprison we sank several wells--some as deep as forty feet--to procurewater. We had no other tools for this than our ever-faithful halfcanteens, and nothing wherewith to wall the wells. But a firm clay wasreached a few feet below the surface, which afforded tolerable strongsides for the lower part, ana furnished material to make adobe bricks forcurbs to keep out the sand of the upper part. The sides were continuallygiving away, however, and fellows were perpetually falling down theholes, to the great damage of their legs and arms. The water, which wasdrawn up in little cans, or boot leg buckets, by strings made of stripsof cloth, was much better than that of the creek, but was still far frompure, as it contained the seepage from the filthy ground. 

The intense heat led men to drink great quantities of water, and thissuperinduced malignant dropsical complaints, which, next to diarrhea, scurvy and gangrene, were the ailments most active in carrying men off. Those affected in this way swelled up frightfully from day to day. Theirclothes speedily became too small for them, and were ripped off, leavingthem entirely naked, and they suffered intensely until death at last cameto their relief. Among those of my squad who died in this way, was ayoung man named Baxter, of the Fifth Indiana Cavalry, taken atChicamauga. He was very fine looking--tall, slender, with regularfeatures and intensely black hair and eyes; he sang nicely, and wasgenerally liked. A more pitiable object than he, when last I saw him, just before his death, can not be imagined. His body had swollen untilit seemed marvelous that the human skin could bear so much distentionwithout disruption, All the old look of bright intelligence had been. Driven from his face by the distortion of his features. His swarthy hairand beard, grown long and ragged, had that peculiar repulsive look whichthe black hair of the sick is prone to assume. 

I attributed much of my freedom from the diseases to which otherssuccumbed to abstention from water drinking. Long before I entered thearmy, I had constructed a theory--on premises that were doubtless asinsufficient as those that boyish theories are usually based upon--thatdrinking water was a habit, and a pernicious one, which sapped away theenergy. I took some trouble to curb my appetite for water, and soonfound that I got along very comfortably without drinking anything beyondthat which was contained in my food. I followed this up after enteringthe army, drinking nothing at any time but a little coffee, and findingno need, even on the dustiest marches, for anything more. I do notpresume that in a year I drank a quart of cold water. Experience seemedto confirm my views, for I noticed that the first to sink under afatigue, or to yield to sickness, were those who were always on thelookout for drinking water, springing from their horses and strugglingaround every well or spring on the line of march for an opportunity tofill their canteens. 

I made liberal use of the Creek for bathing purposes, however, visitingit four or five times a day during the hot days, to wash myself allover. This did not cool one off much, for the shallow stream was nearlyas hot as the sand, but it seemed to do some good, and it helped passaway the tedious hours. The stream was nearly all the time filled asfull of bathers as they could stand, and the water could do littletowards cleansing so many. The occasional rain storms that swept acrossthe prison were welcomed, not only because they cooled the airtemporarily, but because they gave us a shower-bath. As they came up, nearly every one stripped naked and got out where he could enjoy the fullbenefit of the falling water. Fancy, if possible, the spectacle oftwenty-five thousand or thirty thousand men without a stitch of clothingupon them. The like has not been seen, I imagine, since the nakedfollowers of Boadicea gathered in force to do battle to the Romaninvaders. 

It was impossible to get really clean. Our bodies seemed covered with avarnish-like, gummy matter that defied removal by water alone. I imagined that it came from the rosin or turpentine, arising from thelittle pitch pine fires over which we hovered when cooking our rations. It would yield to nothing except strong soap-and soap, as I have beforestated--was nearly as scarce in the Southern Confederacy as salt. We inprison saw even less of it, or rather, none at all. The scarcity of it, and our desire for it, recalls a bit of personal experience. 

I had steadfastly refused all offers of positions outside the prison onparole, as, like the great majority of the prisoners, my hatred of theRebels grew more bitter, day by day; I felt as if I would rather die thanaccept the smallest favor at their hands, and I shared the commoncontempt for those who did. But, when the movement for a grand attack onthe Stockade--mentioned in a previous chapter--was apparently rapidlycoming to a head, I was offered a temporary detail outside to, assist inmaking up some rolls. I resolved to accept; first because I thought Imight get some information that would be of use in our enterprise; and, next, because I foresaw that the rush through the gaps in the Stockadewould be bloody business, and by going out in advance I would avoid thatmuch of the danger, and still be able to give effective assistance. 

I was taken up to Wirz's office. He was writing at a desk at one end ofa large room when the Sergeant brought me in. He turned around, told theSergeant to leave me, and ordered me to sit down upon a box at the otherend of the room. 

Turning his back and resuming his writing, in a few minutes he hadforgotten me. I sat quietly, taking in the details for a half-hour, andthen, having exhausted everything else in the room, I began wonderingwhat was in the box I was sitting upon. The lid was loose; I hitched itforward a little without attracting Wirz's attention, and slipped my lefthand down of a voyage of discovery. It seemed very likely that there wassomething there that a loyal Yankee deserved better than a Rebel. I found that it was a fine article of soft soap. A handful was scoopedup and speedily shoved into my left pantaloon pocket. Expecting everyinstant that Wirz would turn around and order me to come to the desk toshow my handwriting, hastily and furtively wiped my hand on the back ofmy shirt and watched Wirz with as innocent an expression as a school boyassumes when he has just flipped a chewed paper wad across the room. Wirz was still engrossed in his writing, and did not look around. I wasemboldened to reach down for another handful. This was also successfullytransferred, the hand wiped off on the back of the shirt, and the facewore its expression of infantile ingenuousness. Still Wirz did not lookup. I kept dipping up handful after handful, until I had gotten about aquart in the left hand pocket. After each handful I rubbed my hand offon the back of my shirt and waited an instant for a summons to the desk. Then the process was repeated with the other hand, and a quart of thesaponaceous mush was packed in the right hand pocket. 

Shortly after Wirz rose and ordered a guard to take me away and keep me, until he decided what to do with me. The day was intensely hot, and soonthe soap in my pockets and on the back of my shirt began burning likedouble strength Spanish fly blisters. There was nothing to do but grinand bear it. I set my teeth, squatted down under the shade of theparapet of the fort, and stood it silently and sullenly. For the firsttime in my life I thoroughly appreciated the story of the Spartan boy, who stole the fox and suffered the animal to tear his bowels out ratherthan give a sign which would lead to the exposure of his theft. 

Between four and five o'clock-after I had endured the thing for five orsix hours, a guard came with orders from Wirz that I should be returnedto the Stockade. Upon hastily removing my clothes, after coming inside, I found I had a blister on each thigh, and one down my back, that wouldhave delighted an old practitioner of the heroic school. But I also hada half gallon of excellent soft soap. My chums and I took a magnificentwash, and gave our clothes the same, and we still had soap enough left tobarter for some onions that we had long coveted, and which tasted assweet to us as manna to the Israelites. 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

"POUR PASSER LE TEMPS"--A SET OF CHESSMEN PROCURED UNDER DIFFICULTIES--RELIGIOUS SERVICES--THE DEVOTED PRIEST--WAR SONG. 

The time moved with leaden feet. Do the best we could, there were verymany tiresome hours for which no occupation whatever could be found. All that was necessary to be done during the day--attending roll call, drawing and cooking rations, killing lice and washing--could be disposedof in an hour's time, and we were left with fifteen or sixteen wakinghours, for which there was absolutely no employment. Very many tried toescape both the heat and ennui by sleeping as much as possible throughthe day, but I noticed that those who did this soon died, andconsequently I did not do it. Card playing had sufficed to pass away thehours at first, but our cards soon wore out, and deprived us of thisresource. My chum, Andrews, and I constructed a set of chessmen with aninfinite deal of trouble. We found a soft, white root in the swamp whichanswered our purpose. A boy near us had a tolerably sharp pocket-knife, for the use of which a couple of hours each day, we gave a few spoonfulsof meal. The knife was the only one among a large number of prisoners, as the Rebel guards had an affection for that style of cutlery, which ledthem to search incoming prisoners, very closely. The fortunate owner ofthis derived quite a little income of meal by shrewdly loaning it to hisknifeless comrades. The shapes that we made for pieces and pawns werenecessarily very rude, but they were sufficiently distinct foridentification. We blackened one set with pitch pine soot, found a pieceof plank that would answer for a board and purchased it from itspossessor for part of a ration of meal, and so were fitted out with whatserved until our release to distract our attention from much of thesurrounding misery. 

Every one else procured such amusement as they could. Newcomers, whostill had money and cards, gambled as long as their means lasted. Thosewho had books read them until the leaves fell apart. Those who had paperand pen and ink tried to write descriptions and keep journals, but thiswas usually given up after being in prison a few weeks. I was fortunateenough to know a boy who had brought a copy of "Gray's Anatomy" intoprison with him. I was not specially interested in the subject, but itwas Hobson's choice; I could read anatomy or nothing, and so I tackled itwith such good will that before my friend became sick and was takenoutside, and his book with him, I had obtained a very fair knowledge ofthe rudiments of physiology. 

There was a little band of devoted Christian workers, among whom wereOrderly Sergeant Thomas J. Sheppard, Ninety-Seventh O. Y. L, now aleading Baptist minister in Eastern Ohio; Boston Corbett, who afterwardslew John Wilkes Booth, and Frank Smith, now at the head of the RailroadBethel work at Toledo. They were indefatigable in trying to evangelizethe prison. A few of them would take their station in some part of theStockade (a different one every time), and begin singing some oldfamiliar hymn like:

 "Come, Thou fount of every blessing, "

and in a few minutes they would have an attentive audience of as manythousand as could get within hearing. The singing would be followed byregular services, during which Sheppard, Smith, Corbett, and some otherswould make short, spirited, practical addresses, which no doubt did muchgood to all who heard them, though the grains of leaven were entirely toosmall to leaven such an immense measure of meal. They conducted severalfunerals, as nearly like the way it was done at home as possible. Theirministrations were not confined to mere lip service, but they laboredassiduously in caring for the sick, and made many a poor fellow's way tothe grave much smoother for him. 

This was about all the religious services that we were favored with. The Rebel preachers did not make that effort to save our misguided soulswhich one would have imagined they would having us where we could notchoose but hear they might have taken advantage of our situation to rakeus fore and aft with their theological artillery. They only attempted itin one instance. While in Richmond a preacher came into our room andannounced in an authoritative way that he would address us on religioussubjects. We uncovered respectfully, and gathered around him. He was aloud-tongued, brawling Boanerges, who addressed the Lord as if drilling abrigade. 

He spoke but a few moments before making apparent his belief that theworst of crimes was that of being a Yankee, and that a man must not onlybe saved through Christ's blood, but also serve in the Rebel army beforehe could attain to heaven. 

Of course we raised such a yell of derision that the sermon was broughtto an abrupt conclusion. 

The only minister who came into the Stockade was a Catholic priest, middle-aged, tall, slender, and unmistakably devout. He was unwearied inhis attention to the sick, and the whole day could be seen moving aroundthrough the prison, attending to those who needed spiritual consolation. It was interesting to see him administer the extreme unction to a dyingman. Placing a long purple scarf about his own neck and a small brazencrucifix in the hands of the dying one, he would kneel by the latter'sside and anoint him upon the eyes, ears, nostrils; lips, hands, feet andbreast, with sacred oil; from a little brass vessel, repeating the while, in an impressive voice, the solemn offices of the Church. 

His unwearying devotion gained the admiration of all, no matter howlittle inclined one might be to view priestliness generally with favor. He was evidently of such stuff as Christian heros have ever been made of, and would have faced stake and fagot, at the call of duty, withunquailing eye. His name was Father Hamilton, and he was stationed atMacon. The world should know more of a man whose services were socreditable to humanity and his Church:

The good father had the wisdom of the serpent, with the harmlessness ofthe dove. Though full of commiseration for the unhappy lot of theprisoners, nothing could betray him into the slightest expression ofopinion regarding the war or those who were the authors of all thismisery. In our impatience at our treatment, and hunger for news, weforgot his sacerdotal character, and importuned him for tidings of theexchange. His invariable reply was that he lived apart from these thingsand kept himself ignorant of them. 

"But, father, " said I one day, with an impatience that I could not whollyrepress, "you must certainly hear or read something of this, while youare outside among the Rebel officers. " Like many other people, Isupposed that the whole world was excited over that in which I felt adeep interest. 

"No, my son, " replied he, in his usual calm, measured tones. "I go notamong them, nor do I hear anything from them. When I leave the prison inthe evening, full of sorrow at what I have seen here, I find that thebest use I can make of my time is in studying the Word of God, andespecially the Psalms of David. "

We were not any longer good company for each other. We had heard overand over again all each other's stories and jokes, and each knew as muchabout the other's previous history as we chose to communicate. The storyof every individual's past life, relations, friends, regiment, andsoldier experience had been told again and again, until the repetitionwas wearisome. The cool nights following the hot days were favorable tolittle gossiping seances like the yarn-spinning watches of sailors onpleasant nights. Our squad, though its stock of stories was wornthreadbare, was fortunate enough to have a sweet singer in Israel "Nosey"Payne--of whose tunefulness we never tired. He had a large repertoire ofpatriotic songs, which he sang with feeling and correctness, and whichhelped much to make the calm Summer nights pass agreeably. Among thebest of these was "Brave Boys are They, " which I always thought was thefinest ballad, both in poetry and music, produced by the War. 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

MAGGOTS, LICE AND RAIDERS--PRACTICES OF THESE HUMAN VERMIN--PLUNDERINGTHE SICK AND DYING--NIGHT ATTACKS, AND BATTLES BY DAY--HARD TIMES FOR THESMALL TRADERS. 

With each long, hot Summer hour the lice, the maggot-flies and theN'Yaarkers increased in numbers and venomous activity. They wereever-present annoyances and troubles; no time was free from them. The lice worried us by day and tormented us by night; the maggot-fliesfouled our food, and laid in sores and wounds larvae that speedilybecame masses of wriggling worms. The N'Yaarkers were human verminthat preyed upon and harried us unceasingly. 

They formed themselves into bands numbering from five to twenty-five, each led by a bold, unscrupulous, energetic scoundrel. We now calledthem "Raiders, " and the most prominent and best known of the bands werecalled by the names of their ruffian leaders, as "Mosby's Raiders, ""Curtis's Raiders, " "Delaney's Raiders, " "Sarsfield's Raiders, ""Collins's Raiders, " etc. 

As long as we old prisoners formed the bulk of those inside the Stockade, the Raiders had slender picking. They would occasionally snatch ablanket from the tent poles, or knock a boy down at the Creek and takehis silver watch from him; but this was all. Abundant opportunities forsecuring richer swag came to them with the advent of the PlymouthPilgrims. As had been before stated, these boys brought in with them alarge portion of their first instalment of veteran bounty--aggregating inamount, according to varying estimates, between twenty-five thousand andone hundred thousand dollars. The Pilgrims were likewise well clothed, had an abundance of blankets and camp equipage, and a plentiful supply ofpersonal trinkets, that could be readily traded off to the Rebels. Anaverage one of them--even if his money were all gone--was a bonanza toany band which could succeed in plundering him. His watch and chain, shoes, knife, ring, handkerchief, combs and similar trifles, would netseveral hundred dollars in Confederate money. The blockade, which cutoff the Rebel communication with the outer world, made these in greatdemand. Many of the prisoners that came in from the Army of the Potomacrepaid robbing equally well. As a rule those from that Army were notsearched so closely as those from the West, and not unfrequently theycame in with all their belongings untouched, where Sherman's men, arriving the same day, would be stripped nearly to the buff. 

The methods of the Raiders were various, ranging all the way from sneakthievery to highway robbery. All the arts learned in the prisons andpurlieus of New York were put into exercise. Decoys, "bunko-steerers" athome, would be on the look-out for promising subjects as each crowd offresh prisoners entered the gate, and by kindly offers to find them asleeping place, lure them to where they could be easily despoiled duringthe night. If the victim resisted there was always sufficient force athand to conquer him, and not seldom his life paid the penalty of hiscontumacy. I have known as many as three of these to be killed in anight, and their bodies--with throats cut, or skulls crushed in--be foundin the morning among the dead at the gates. 

All men having money or valuables were under continual espionage, andwhen found in places convenient for attack, a rush was made for them. They were knocked down and their persons rifled with such swift dexteritythat it was done before they realized what had happened. 

At first these depredations were only perpetrated at night. The quarrywas selected during the day, and arrangements made for a descent. Afterthe victim was asleep the band dashed down upon him, and sheared him ofhis goods with incredible swiftness. Those near would raise the cry of"Raiders!" and attack the robbers. If the latter had secured their bootythey retreated with all possible speed, and were soon lost in the crowd. If not, they would offer battle, and signal for assistance from the otherbands. Severe engagements of this kind were of continual occurrence, inwhich men were so badly beaten as to die from the effects. The weaponsused were fists, clubs, axes, tent-poles, etc. The Raiders wereplentifully provided with the usual weapons of their class--slung-shotsand brass-knuckles. Several of them had succeeded in smugglingbowie-knives into prison. 

They had the great advantage in these rows of being well acquainted witheach other, while, except the Plymouth Pilgrims, the rest of theprisoners were made up of small squads of men from each regiment in theservice, and total strangers to all outside of their own little band. The Raiders could concentrate, if necessary, four hundred or five hundredmen upon any point of attack, and each member of the gangs had become sofamiliarized with all the rest by long association in New York, andelsewhere, that he never dealt a blow amiss, while their opponents werenearly as likely to attack friends as enemies. 

By the middle of June the continual success of the Raiders emboldenedthem so that they no longer confined their depredations to the night, but made their forays in broad daylight, and there was hardly an hour inthe twenty-four that the cry of "Raiders! Raiders!" did, not go up fromsome part of the pen, and on looking in the direction of the cry, onewould see a surging commotion, men struggling, and clubs being pliedvigorously. This was even more common than the guards shooting men atthe Creek crossing. 

One day I saw "Dick Allen's Raiders, " eleven in number, attack a manwearing the uniform of Ellett's Marine Brigade. He was a recent comer, and alone, but he was brave. He had come into possession of a spade, bysome means or another, and he used this with delightful vigor and effect. Two or three times he struck one of his assailants so fairly on the headand with such good will that I congratulated myself that he had killedhim. Finally, Dick Allen managed to slip around behind him unnoticed, and striking him on the head with a slung-shot, knocked him down, whenthe whole crowd pounced upon him to kill him, but were driven off byothers rallying to his assistance. 

The proceeds of these forays enabled the Raiders to wax fat and lusty, while others were dying from starvation. They all had good tents, constructed of stolen blankets, and their headquarters was a large, roomytent, with a circular top, situated on the street leading to the SouthGate, and capable of accommodating from seventy-five to one hundred men. All the material for this had been wrested away from others. Whilehundreds were dying of scurvy and diarrhea, from the miserable, insufficient food, and lack of vegetables, these fellows had flour, freshmeat, onions, potatoes, green beans, and other things, the very looks ofwhich were a torture to hungry, scorbutic, dysenteric men. They were onthe best possible terms with the Rebels, whom they fawned upon andgroveled before, and were in return allowed many favors, in the way oftrading, going out upon detail, and making purchases. 

Among their special objects of attack were the small traders in theprison. We had quite a number of these whose genius for barter was sostrong that it took root and flourished even in that unpropitious soil, and during the time when new prisoners were constantly coming in withmoney, they managed to accumulate small sums--from ten dollars upward, bytrading between the guards and the prisoners. In the period immediatelyfollowing a prisoner's entrance he was likely to spend all his money andtrade off all his possessions for food, trusting to fortune to get himout of there when these were gone. Then was when he was profitable tothese go-betweens, who managed to make him pay handsomely for what hegot. The Raiders kept watch of these traders, and plundered themwhenever occasion served. It reminded one of the habits of the fishingeagle, which hovers around until some other bird catches a fish, and thentakes it away. 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

A COMMUNITY WITHOUT GOVERNMENT--FORMATION OF THE REGULATORS--RAIDERSATTACK KEY BUT ARE BLUFFED OFF--ASSAULT OF THE REGULATORS ON THE RAIDERS--DESPERATE BATTLE--OVERTHROW OF THE RAIDERS. 

To fully appreciate the condition of affairs let it be remembered that wewere a community of twenty-five thousand boys and young men--none tooregardful of control at best--and now wholly destitute of government. The Rebels never made the slightest attempt to maintain order in theprison. Their whole energies were concentrated in preventing our escape. So long as we staid inside the Stockade, they cared as little what we didthere as for the performances of savages in the interior of Africa. I doubt if they would have interfered had one-half of us killed and eatenthe other half. They rather took a delight in such atrocities as came totheir notice. It was an ocular demonstration of the total depravity ofthe Yankees. 

Among ourselves there was no one in position to lay down law and enforceit. Being all enlisted men we were on a dead level as far as rank wasconcerned--the highest being only Sergeants, whose stripes carried noweight of authority. The time of our stay was--it was hoped--tootransient to make it worth while bothering about organizing any form ofgovernment. The great bulk of the boys were recent comers, who hopedthat in another week or so they would be out again. There were no fatsalaries to tempt any one to take upon himself the duty of ruling themasses, and all were left to their own devices, to do good or evil, according to their several bents, and as fear of consequences swayedthem. Each little squad of men was a law unto themselves, and made andenforced their own regulations on their own territory. The administrationof justice was reduced to its simplest terms. If a fellow did wrong hewas pounded--if there was anybody capable of doing it. If not he wentfree. 

The almost unvarying success of the Raiders in--their forays gave thegeneral impression that they were invincible--that is, that not enoughmen could be concentrated against them to whip them. Our ill-success inthe attack we made on them in April helped us to the same belief. If wecould not beat them then, we could not now, after we had been enfeebledby months of starvation and disease. It seemed to us that the PlymouthPilgrims, whose organization was yet very strong, should undertake thetask; but, as is usually the case in this world, where we think somebodyelse ought to undertake the performance of a disagreeable public duty, they did not see it in the light that we wished them to. Theyestablished guards around their squads, and helped beat off the Raiderswhen their own territory was invaded, but this was all they would do. The rest of us formed similar guards. In the southwest corner of theStockade--where I was--we formed ourselves into a company of fifty activeboys--mostly belonging to my own battalion and to other Illinoisregiments--of which I was elected Captain. My First Lieutenant was atall, taciturn, long-armed member of the One Hundred and EleventhIllinois, whom we called "Egypt, " as he came from that section of theState. He was wonderfully handy with his fists. I think he could knocka fellow down so that he would fall-harder, and lie longer than anyperson I ever saw. We made a tacit division of duties: I did thetalking, and "Egypt" went through the manual labor of knocking ouropponents down. In the numerous little encounters in which our companywas engaged, "Egypt" would stand by my side, silent, grim and patient, while I pursued the dialogue with the leader of the other crowd. As soonas he thought the conversation had reached the proper point, his longleft arm stretched out like a flash, and the other fellow dropped as ifhe had suddenly come in range of a mule that was feeling well. Thatunexpected left-hander never failed. It would have made Charles Reade'sheart leap for joy to see it. 

In spite of our company and our watchfulness, the Raiders beat us badlyon one occasion. Marion Friend, of Company I of our battalion, was oneof the small traders, and had accumulated forty dollars by his bartering. One evening at dusk Delaney's Raiders, about twenty-five strong, tookadvantage of the absence of most of us drawing rations, to make a rushfor Marion. They knocked him down, cut him across the wrist and neckwith a razor, and robbed him of his forty dollars. By the time we couldrally Delaney and his attendant scoundrels were safe from pursuit in themidst of their friends. 

This state of things had become unendurable. Sergeant Leroy L. Key, of Company M, our battalion, resolved to make an effort to crush theRaiders. He was a printer, from Bloomington, Illinois, tall, dark, intelligent and strong-willed, and one of the bravest men I ever knew. He was ably seconded by "Limber Jim, " of the Sixty-Seventh Illinois, whose lithe, sinewy form, and striking features reminded one of a youngSioux brave. He had all of Key's desperate courage, but not his brainsor his talent for leadership. Though fearfully reduced in numbers, ourbattalion had still about one hundred well men in it, and these formedthe nucleus for Key's band of "Regulators, " as they were styled. Amongthem were several who had no equals in physical strength and courage inany of the Raider chiefs. Our best man was Ned Carrigan, Corporal ofCompany I, from Chicago--who was so confessedly the best man in the wholeprison that he was never called upon to demonstrate it. He was abig-hearted, genial Irish boy, who was never known to get into troubleon his own account, but only used his fists when some of his comradeswere imposed upon. He had fought in the ring, and on one occasion hadkilled a man with a single blow of his fist, in a prize fight near St. Louis. We were all very proud of him, and it was as good as anentertainment to us to see the noisiest roughs subside into deferentialsilence as Ned would come among them, like some grand mastiff in themidst of a pack of yelping curs. Ned entered into the regulating schemeheartily. Other stalwart specimens of physical manhood in our battalionwere Sergeant Goody, Ned Johnson, Tom Larkin, and others, who, while notapproaching Carrigan's perfect manhood, were still more than a match forthe best of the Raiders. 

Key proceeded with the greatest secrecy in the organization of hisforces. He accepted none but Western men, and preferred Illinoisans, Iowans, Kansans, Indianians and Ohioans. The boys from those Statesseemed to naturally go together, and be moved by the same motives. He informed Wirz what he proposed doing, so that any unusual commotionwithin the prison might not be mistaken for an attempt upon the Stockade, and made the excuse for opening with the artillery. Wirz, who happenedto be in a complaisant humor, approved of the design, and allowed him theuse of the enclosure of the North Gate to confine his prisoners in. 

In spite of Key's efforts at secrecy, information as to his schemereached the Raiders. It was debated at their headquarters, and decidedthere that Key must be killed. Three men were selected to do this work. They called on Key, a dusk, on the evening of the 2d of July. Inresponse to their inquiries, he came out of the blanket-covered hole onthe hillside that he called his tent. They told him what they had heard, and asked if it was true. He said it was. One of them then drew aknife, and the other two, "billies" to attack him. But, anticipatingtrouble, Key had procured a revolver which one of the Pilgrims hadbrought in in his knapsack and drawing this he drove them off, butwithout firing a shot. 

The occurrence caused the greatest excitement. To us of the Regulatorsit showed that the Raiders had penetrated our designs, and were preparedfor them. To the great majority of the prisoners it was the firstintimation that such a thing was contemplated; the news spread from squadto squad with the greatest rapidity, and soon everybody was discussingthe chances of the movement. For awhile men ceased their interminablediscussion of escape and exchange--let those over worked words and themeshave a rare spell of repose--and debated whether the Raiders would whipthe regulators, or the Regulators conquer the Raiders. The reasons whichI have previously enumerated, induced a general disbelief in theprobability of our success. The Raiders were in good health well fed, used to operating together, and had the confidence begotten by a longseries of successes. The Regulators lacked in all these respects. 

Whether Key had originally fixed on the next day for making the attack, or whether this affair precipitated the crisis, I know not, but later inthe evening he sent us all order: to be on our guard all night, and readyfor action the next morning. 

There was very little sleep anywhere that night. The Rebels learnedthrough their spies that something unusual was going on inside, and astheir only interpretation of anything unusual there was a design upon theStockade, they strengthened the guards, took additional precautions inevery way, and spent the hours in anxious anticipation. 

We, fearing that the Raiders might attempt to frustrate the scheme by anattack in overpowering force on Key's squad, which would be accompaniedby the assassination of him and Limber Jim, held ourselves in readinessto offer any assistance that might be needed. 

The Raiders, though confident of success, were no less exercised. Theythrew out pickets to all the approaches to their headquarters, andprovided otherwise against surprise. They had smuggled in some canteensof a cheap, vile whisky made from sorghum--and they grew quite hilariousin their Big Tent over their potations. Two songs had long ago beenaccepted by us as peculiarly the Raiders' own--as some one in their crowdsang them nearly every evening, and we never heard them anywhere else. The first began:

 In Athol lived a man named Jerry Lanagan; He battered away till he hadn't a pound. His father he died, and he made him a man agin; Left him a farm of ten acres of ground. 

The other related the exploits of an Irish highwayman named Brennan, whose chief virtue was that

 What he rob-bed from the rich he gave unto the poor. 

And this was the villainous chorus in which they all joined, and sang insuch a way as suggested highway robbery, murder, mayhem and arson:

 Brennan on the moor! Brennan on the moor! Proud and undaunted stood John Brennan on the moor. 

They howled these two yearly the live-long night. They became eventuallyquite monotonous to us, who were waiting and watching. It would havebeen quite a relief if they had thrown in a new one every hour or so, by way of variety. 

Morning at last came. Our companies mustered on their grounds, and thenmarched to the space on the South Side where the rations were issued. Each man was armed with a small club, secured to his wrist by a string. 

The Rebels--with their chronic fear of an outbreak animating them--hadall the infantry in line of battle with loaded guns. The cannon in theworks were shotted, the fuses thrust into the touch-holes and the menstood with lanyards in hand ready to mow down everybody, at any instant. 

The sun rose rapidly through the clear sky, which soon glowed down on uslike a brazen oven. The whole camp gathered where it could best view theencounter. This was upon the North Side. As I have before explained thetwo sides sloped toward each other like those of a great trough. TheRaiders' headquarters stood upon the center of the southern slope, andconsequently those standing on the northern slope saw everything as ifupon the stage of a theater. 

While standing in ranks waiting the orders to move, one of my comradestouched me on the arm, and said:

"My God! just look over there!"

I turned from watching the Rebel artillerists, whose intentions gave memore uneasiness than anything else, and looked in the direction indicatedby the speaker. The sight was the strangest one my eyes everencountered. There were at least fifteen thousand perhaps twentythousand--men packed together on the bank, and every eye was turned onus. The slope was such that each man's face showed over the shoulders ofthe one in front of him, making acres on acres of faces. It was as ifthe whole broad hillside was paved or thatched with human countenances. 

When all was ready we moved down upon the Big Tent, in as good order aswe could preserve while passing through the narrow tortuous paths betweenthe tents. Key, Limber Jim, Ned Carigan, Goody, Tom Larkin, and NedJohnson led the advance with their companies. The prison was as silentas a graveyard. As we approached, the Raiders massed themselves in astrong, heavy line, with the center, against which our advance wasmoving, held by the most redoubtable of their leaders. How many therewere of them could not be told, as it was impossible to say where theirline ended and the mass of spectators began. They could not themselvestell, as the attitude of a large portion of the spectators would bedetermined by which way the battle went. 

Not a blow was struck until the lines came close together. Then theRaider center launched itself forward against ours, and grappled savagelywith the leading Regulators. For an instant--it seemed an hour--thestruggle was desperate. 

Strong, fierce men clenched and strove to throttle each other; greatmuscles strained almost to bursting, and blows with fist and club-dealtwith all the energy of mortal hate--fell like hail. One-perhapstwo-endless minutes the lines surged--throbbed--backward and forward astep or two, and then, as if by a concentration of mighty effort, ourmen flung the Raider line back from it--broken--shattered. The nextinstant our leaders were striding through the mass like raging lions. Carrigan, Limber Jim, Larkin, Johnson and Goody each smote down a swathof men before them, as they moved resistlessly forward. 

We light weights had been sent around on the flanks to separate thespectators from the combatants, strike the Raiders 'en revers, ' and, as far as possible, keep the crowd from reinforcing them. 

In five minutes after the first blow--was struck the overthrow of theRaiders was complete. Resistance ceased, and they sought safety inflight. 

As the result became apparent to the--watchers on the opposite hillside, they vented their pent-up excitement in a yell that made the very groundtremble, and we answered them with a shout that expressed not only ourexultation over our victory, but our great relief from the intense strainwe had long borne. 

We picked up a few prisoners on the battle field, and retired withoutmaking any special effort to get any more then, as we knew, that theycould not escape us. 

We were very tired, and very hungry. The time for drawing rations hadarrived. Wagons containing bread and mush had driven to the gates, butWirz would not allow these to be opened, lest in the excited condition ofthe men an attempt might be made to carry them. Key ordered operationsto cease, that Wirz might be re-assured and let the rations enter. It was in vain. Wirz was thoroughly scared. The wagons stood out in thehot sun until the mush fermented and soured, and had to be thrown away, while we event rationless to bed, and rose the next day with more thanusually empty stomachs to goad us on to our work. 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

WHY THE REGULATORS WERE NOT ASSISTED BY THE ENTIRE CAMP--PECULIARITIES OFBOYS FROM DIFFERENT SECTIONS--HUNTING THE RAIDERS DOWN--EXPLOITS OF MYLEFT-HANDED LIEUTENANT--RUNNING THE GAUNTLET. 

I may not have made it wholly clear to the reader why we did not have theactive assistance of the whole prison in the struggle with the Raiders. There were many reasons for this. First, the great bulk of the prisonerswere new comers, having been, at the farthest, but three or four weeks inthe Stockade. They did not comprehend the situation of affairs as weolder prisoners did. They did not understand that all the outrages--orvery nearly all--were the work of--a relatively small crowd of graduatesfrom the metropolitan school of vice. The activity and audacity of theRaiders gave them the impression that at least half the able-bodied menin the Stockade were engaged in these depredations. This is always thecase. A half dozen burglars or other active criminals in a town willproduce the impression that a large portion of the population are lawbreakers. We never estimated that the raiding N'Yaarkers, with theirspies and other accomplices, exceeded five hundred, but it would havebeen difficult to convince a new prisoner that there were not thousandsof them. Secondly, the prisoners were made up of small squads from everyregiment at the front along the whole line from the Mississippi to theAtlantic. These were strangers to and distrustful of all out side theirown little circles. The Eastern men were especially so. ThePennsylvanians and New Yorkers each formed groups, and did not fraternizereadily with those outside their State lines. The New Jerseyans heldaloof from all the rest, while the Massachusetts soldiers had very littlein Common with anybody--even their fellow New Englanders. The Michiganmen were modified New Englanders. They had the same tricks of speech;they said "I be" for "I am, " and "haag" for "hog;" "Let me look at yourknife half a second, " or "Give me just a sup of that water, " where wesaid simply "Lend me your knife, " or "hand me a drink. " They were lessreserved than the true Yankees, more disposed to be social, and, with alltheir eccentricities, were as manly, honorable a set of fellows as it wasmy fortune to meet with in the army. I could ask no better comrades thanthe boys of the Third Michigan Infantry, who belonged to the same"Ninety" with me. The boys from Minnesota and Wisconsin were very muchlike those from Michigan. Those from Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa andKansas all seemed cut off the same piece. To all intents and purposesthey might have come from the same County. They spoke the same dialect, read the same newspapers, had studied McGuffey's Readers, Mitchell'sGeography, and Ray's Arithmetics at school, admired the same great men, and held generally the same opinions on any given subject. It was neverdifficult to get them to act in unison--they did it spontaneously; whileit required an effort to bring about harmony of action with those fromother sections. Had the Western boys in prison been thoroughly advisedof the nature of our enterprise, we could, doubtless, have commandedtheir cordial assistance, but they were not, and there was no way inwhich it could be done readily, until after the decisive blow was struck. 

The work of arresting the leading Raiders went on actively all day on theFourth of July. They made occasional shows of fierce resistance, but theevents of the day before had destroyed their prestige, broken theirconfidence, and driven away from their support very many who followedtheir lead when they were considered all-powerful. They scattered fromtheir former haunts, and mingled with the crowds in other parts of theprison, but were recognized, and reported to Key, who sent parties toarrest them. Several times they managed to collect enough adherents todrive off the squads sent after them, but this only gave them a shortrespite, for the squad would return reinforced, and make short work ofthem. Besides, the prisoners generally were beginning to understand andapprove of the Regulators' movement, and were disposed to give all theassistance needed. 

Myself and "Egypt, " my taciturn Lieutenant of the sinewy left arm, weresent with our company to arrest Pete Donnelly, a notorious character, andleader of, a bad crowd. He was more "knocker" than Raider, however. He was an old Pemberton building acquaintance, and as we marched up towhere he was standing at the head of his gathering clan, he recognized meand said:

"Hello, Illinoy, " (the name by which I was generally known in prison)"what do you want here?"

I replied, "Pete, Key has sent me for you. I want you to go toheadquarters. "

"What the ---- does Key want with me?"

"I don't know, I'm sure; he only said to bring you. "

"But I haven't had anything to do with them other snoozers you have beena-having trouble with. "

"I don't know anything about that; you can talk to Key as to that. I only know that we are sent for you. "

"Well, you don't think you can take me unless I choose to go? You haintgot anybody in that crowd big enough to make it worth while for him towaste his time trying it. "

I replied diffidently that one never knew what--he could do till hetried; that while none of us were very big, we were as willing a lot oflittle fellows as he ever saw, and if it were all the same to him, wewould undertake to waste a little time getting him to headquarters. 

The conversation seemed unnecessarily long to "Egypt, " who stood by myside; about a half step in advance. Pete was becoming angrier and moredefiant every minute. His followers were crowding up to us, club inhand. Finally Pete thrust his fist in my face, and roared out:

"By ---, I ain't a going with ye, and ye can't take me, you ---- ---- ---- "

This was "Egypt's" cue. His long left arm uncoupled like the looseningof the weight of a pile-driver. It caught Mr. Donnelly under the chin, fairly lifted him from his feet, and dropped him on his back among hisfollowers. It seemed to me that the predominating expression in his faceas he went, over was that of profound wonder as to where that blow couldhave come from, and why he did not see it in time to dodge or ward itoff. 

As Pete dropped, the rest of us stepped forward with our clubs, to engagehis followers, while "Egypt" and one or two others tied his hands andotherwise secured him. But his henchmen made no effort to rescue him, and we carried him over to headquarters without molestation. 

The work of arresting increased in interest and excitement until itdeveloped into the furore of a hunt, with thousands eagerly engaged init. The Raiders' tents were torn down and pillaged. Blankets, tentpoles, and cooking utensils were carried off as spoils, and the groundwas dug over for secreted property. A large quantity of watches, chains, knives, rings, gold pens, etc. , etc. --the booty of many a raid--wasfound, and helped to give impetus to the hunt. Even the RebelQuartermaster, with the characteristic keen scent of the Rebels forspoils, smelled from the outside the opportunity for gaining plunder, and came in with a squad of Rebels equipped with spades, to dig forburied treasures. How successful he was I know not, as I took no partin any of the operations of that nature. 

It was claimed that several skeletons of victims of the Raiders werefound buried beneath the tent. I cannot speak with any certainty as tothis, though my impression is that at least one was found. 

By evening Key had perhaps one hundred and twenty-five of the most notedRaiders in his hands. Wirz had allowed him the use of the small stockadeforming the entrance to the North Gate to confine them in. 

The next thing was the judgment and punishment of the arrested ones. For this purpose Key organized a court martial composed of thirteenSergeants, chosen from the latest arrivals of prisoners, that they mighthave no prejudice against the Raiders. I believe that a man named DickMcCullough, belonging to the Third Missouri Cavalry, was the President ofthe Court. The trial was carefully conducted, with all the formality ofa legal procedure that the Court and those managing the matter couldremember as applicable to the crimes with which the accused were charged. Each of these confronted by the witnesses who testified against him, andallowed to cross-examine them to any extent he desired. The defense was managed by one of their crowd, the foul-tongued Tombsshyster, Pete Bradley, of whom I have before spoken. Such was the fearof the vengeance of the Raiders and their friends that many who had beenbadly abused dared not testify against them, dreading midnightassassination if they did. Others would not go before the Court exceptat night. But for all this there was no lack of evidence; there werethousands who had been robbed and maltreated, or who had seen theseoutrages committed on others, and the boldness of the leaders in theirbight of power rendered their identification a matter of no difficultywhatever. 

The trial lasted several days, and concluded with sentencing quite alarge number to run the gauntlet, a smaller number to wear balls andchains, and the following six to be hanged:

John Sarsfield, One Hundred and Forty-Fourth New York. William Collins, alias "Mosby, " Company D, Eighty-Eighth Pennsylvania, Charles Curtis, Company A, Fifth Rhode Island Artillery. Patrick Delaney, Company E, Eighty-Third Pennsylvania. A. Muir, United States Navy. Terence Sullivan, Seventy-Second New York. 

These names and regiments are of little consequence, however, as Ibelieve all the rascals were professional bounty-jumpers, and did notbelong to any regiment longer than they could find an opportunity todesert and join another. 

Those sentenced to ball-and-chain were brought in immediately, and hadthe irons fitted to them that had been worn by some of our men as apunishment for trying to escape. 

It was not yet determined how punishment should be meted out to theremainder, but circumstances themselves decided the matter. Wirz becametired of guarding so large a number as Key had arrested, and he informedKey that he should turn them back into the Stockade immediately. Keybegged for little farther time to consider the disposition of the cases, but Wirz refused it, and ordered the Officer of the Guard to return allarrested, save those sentenced to death, to the Stockade. In themeantime the news had spread through the prison that the Raiders were tobe sent in again unpunished, and an angry mob, numbering some thousands, and mostly composed of men who had suffered injuries at the hands of themarauders, gathered at the South Gate, clubs in hand, to get suchsatisfaction as they could out of the rascals. They formed in two long, parallel lines, facing inward, and grimly awaited the incoming of theobjects of their vengeance. 

The Officer of the Guard opened the wicket in the gate, and began forcingthe Raiders through it--one at a time--at the point of the bayonet, andeach as he entered was told what he already realized well--that he mustrun for his life. They did this with all the energy that they possessed, and as they ran blows rained on their heads, arms and backs. If theycould succeed in breaking through the line at any place they weregenerally let go without any further punishment. Three of the numberwere beaten to death. I saw one of these killed. I had no liking forthe gauntlet performance, and refused to have anything to do with it, as did most, if not all, of my crowd. While the gauntlet was inoperation, I was standing by my tent at the head of a little street, about two hundred feet from the line, watching what was being done. A sailor was let in. He had a large bowie knife concealed about hisperson somewhere, which he drew, and struck savagely with at histormentors on either side. They fell back from before him, but closed inbehind and pounded him terribly. He broke through the line, and ran upthe street towards me. About midway of the distance stood a boy who hadhelped carry a dead man out during the day, and while out had secured alarge pine rail which he had brought in with him. He was holding thisstraight up in the air, as if at a "present arms. " He seemed to haveknown from the first that the Raider would run that way. Just as he camesquarely under it, the boy dropped the rail like the bar of a toll gate. It struck the Raider across the head, felled him as if by a shot, and hispursuers then beat him to death. 

CHAPTER XXXVII. 

THE EXECUTION--BUILDING THE SCAFFOLD--DOUBTS OF THE CAMP-CAPTAIN WIRZTHINKS IT IS PROBABLY A RUSE TO FORCE THE STOCKADE--HIS PREPARATIONSAGAINST SUCH AN ATTEMPT--ENTRANCE OF THE DOOMED ONES--THEY REALIZE THEIRFATE--ONE MAKES A DESPERATE ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE--HIS RECAPTURE--INTENSEEXCITEMENT--WIRZ ORDERS THE GUNS TO OPEN--FORTUNATELY THEY DO NOT-THE SIXARE HANGED--ONE BREAKS HIS ROPE--SCENE WHEN THE RAIDERS ARE CUT DOWN. 

It began to be pretty generally understood through the prison that sixmen had been sentenced to be hanged, though no authoritative announcementof the fact had been made. There was much canvassing as to where theyshould be executed, and whether an attempt to hang them inside of theStockade would not rouse their friends to make a desperate effort torescue them, which would precipitate a general engagement of even largerproportions than that of the 3d. Despite the result of the affairs ofthat and the succeeding days, the camp was not yet convinced that theRaiders were really conquered, and the Regulators themselves were notthoroughly at ease on that score. Some five thousand or six thousand newprisoners had come in since the first of the month, and it was claimedthat the Raiders had received large reinforcements from those, --a claimrendered probable by most of the new-comers being from the Army of thePotomac. 

Key and those immediately about him kept their own counsel in the matter, and suffered no secret of their intentions to leak out, until on themorning of the 11th, when it became generally known that the sentenceswere too be carried into effect that day, and inside the prison. 

My first direct information as to this was by a messenger from Key withan order to assemble my company and stand guard over the carpenters whowere to erect the scaffold. He informed me that all the Regulators wouldbe held in readiness to come to our relief if we were attacked in force. I had hoped that if the men were to be hanged I would be spared theunpleasant duty of assisting, for, though I believed they richly deservedthat punishment, I had much rather some one else administered it uponthem. There was no way out of it, however, that I could see, and so"Egypt" and I got the boys together, and marched down to the designatedplace, which was an open space near the end of the street running fromthe South Gate, and kept vacant for the purpose of issuing rations. It was quite near the spot where the Raiders' Big Tent had stood, andafforded as good a view to the rest of the camp as could be found. 

Key had secured the loan of a few beams and rough planks, sufficient tobuild a rude scaffold with. Our first duty was to care for these as theycame in, for such was the need of wood, and plank for tent purposes, thatthey would scarcely have fallen to the ground before they were spiritedaway, had we not stood over them all the time with clubs. 

The carpenters sent by Key came over and set to work. The N'Yaarkersgathered around in considerable numbers, sullen and abusive. They cursedus with all their rich vocabulary of foul epithets, vowed that we shouldnever carry out the execution, and swore that they had marked each onefor vengeance. We returned the compliments in kind, and occasionally itseemed as if a general collision was imminent; but we succeeded inavoiding this, and by noon the scaffold was finished. It was a verysimple affair. A stout beam was fastened on the top of two posts, aboutfifteen feet high. At about the height of a man's head a couple ofboards stretched across the space between the posts, and met in thecenter. The ends at the posts laid on cleats; the ends in the centerrested upon a couple of boards, standing upright, and each having a pieceof rope fastened through a hole in it in such a manner, that a man couldsnatch it from under the planks serving as the floor of the scaffold, andlet the whole thing drop. A rude ladder to ascend by completed thepreparations. 

As the arrangements neared completion the excitement in and around theprison grew intense. Key came over with the balance of the Regulators, and we formed a hollow square around the scaffold, our company markingthe line on the East Side. There were now thirty thousand in the prison. Of these about one-third packed themselves as tightly about our square asthey could stand. The remaining twenty thousand were wedged together ina solid mass on the North Side. Again I contemplated the wonderful, startling, spectacle of a mosaic pavement of human faces covering thewhole broad hillside. 

Outside, the Rebel, infantry was standing in the rifle pits, theartillerymen were in place about their loaded and trained pieces, the No. 4 of each gun holding the lanyard cord in his hand, ready to fire thepiece at the instant of command. The small squad of cavalry was drawn upon the hill near the Star Fort, and near it were the masters of thehounds, with their yelping packs. 

All the hangers-on of the Rebel camp--clerks, teamsters, employer, negros, hundreds of white and colored women, in all forming a motleycrowd of between one and two thousand, were gathered together in a groupbetween the end of the rifle pits and the Star Fort. They had a goodview from there, but a still better one could be had, a little farther tothe right, and in front of the guns. They kept edging up in thatdirection, as crowds will, though they knew the danger they would incurif the artillery opened. 

The day was broiling hot. The sun shot his perpendicular rays down withblistering fierceness, and the densely packed, motionless crowds made theheat almost insupportable. 

Key took up his position inside the square to direct matters. With himwere Limber Jim, Dick McCullough, and one or two others. Also, NedJohnson, Tom Larkin, Sergeant Goody, and three others who were to act ashangmen. Each of these six was provided with a white sack, such as theRebels brought in meal in. Two Corporals of my company--"Stag" Harrisand Wat Payne--were appointed to pull the stays from under the platformat the signal. 

A little after noon the South Gate opened, and Wirz rode in, dressed in asuit of white duck, and mounted on his white horse--a conjunction whichhad gained for him the appellation of "Death on a Pale Horse. " Behindhim walked the faithful old priest, wearing his Church's purple insigniaof the deepest sorrow, and reading the service for the condemned. Thesix doomed men followed, walking between double ranks of Rebel guards. 

All came inside the hollow square and halted. Wirz then said:

"Brizners, I return to you dose men so Boot as I got dem. You haf trieddem yourselves, and found dem guilty--I haf had notting to do wit it. I vash my hands of eferyting connected wit dem. Do wit dem as you like, and may Gott haf mercy on you and on dem. Garts, about face! Voryvarts, march!"

With this he marched out and left us. 

For a moment the condemned looked stunned. They seemed to comprehend forthe first time that it was really the determination of the Regulators tohang them. Before that they had evidently thought that the talk ofhanging was merely bluff. One of them gasped out:

"My God, men, you don't really mean to hang us up there!"

Key answered grimly and laconically:

"That seems to be about the size of it. "

At this they burst out in a passionate storm of intercessions andimprecations, which lasted for a minute or so, when it was stopped by oneof them saying imperatively:

"All of you stop now, and let the priest talk for us. "

At this the priest closed the book upon which he had kept his eyes bentsince his entrance, and facing the multitude on the North Side began aplea for mercy. 

The condemned faced in the same direction to read their fate in thecountenances of those whom he was addressing. This movement broughtCurtis--a low-statured, massively built man--on the right of their line, and about ten or fifteen steps from my company. 

The whole camp had been as still as death since Wirz's exit. The silenceseemed to become even more profound as the priest began his appeal. For a minute every ear was strained to catch what he said. Then, as thenearest of the thousands comprehended what he was saying they raised ashout of "No! no!! NO!!" "Hang them! hang them!" "Don't let them go!Never!"

"Hang the rascals! hang the villains!"

"Hang, 'em! hang 'em! hang 'em!"

This was taken up all over the prison, and tens of thousands throatsyelled it in a fearful chorus. 

Curtis turned from the crowd with desperation convulsing his features. Tearing off the broad-brimmed hat which he wore, he flung it on theground with the exclamation!

"By God, I'll die this way first!" and, drawing his head down and foldinghis arms about it, he dashed forward for the center of my company, like agreat stone hurled from a catapult. 

"Egypt" and I saw where he was going to strike, and ran down the line tohelp stop him. As he came up we rained blows on his head with our clubs, but so many of us struck at him at once that we broke each other's clubsto pieces, and only knocked him on his knees. He rose with an almostsuperhuman effort, and plunged into the mass beyond. 

The excitement almost became delirium. For an instant I feared thateverything was gone to ruin. "Egypt" and I strained every energy torestore our lines, before the break could be taken advantage of by theothers. Our boys behaved splendidly, standing firm, and in a few secondsthe line was restored. 

As Curtis broke through, Delaney, a brawny Irishman standing next to him, started to follow. He took one step. At the same instant Limber Jim'slong legs took three great strides, and placed him directly in front ofDelaney. Jim's right hand held an enormous bowie-knife, and as he raisedit above Delaney he hissed out:

"If you dare move another step, I'll open you ---- ---- ----, I'll openyou from one end to the other. 

Delaney stopped. This checked the others till our lines reformed. 

When Wirz saw the commotion he was panic-stricken with fear that thelong-dreaded assault on the Stockade had begun. He ran down from theheadquarter steps to the Captain of the battery, shrieking:

"Fire! fire! fire!"

The Captain, not being a fool, could see that the rush was not towardsthe Stockade, but away from it, and he refrained from giving the order. 

But the spectators who had gotten before the guns, heard Wirz's excitedyell, and remembering the consequences to themselves should the artillerybe discharged, became frenzied with fear, and screamed, and fell downover and trampled upon each other in endeavoring to get away. The guardson that side of the Stockade ran down in a panic, and the ten thousandprisoners immediately around us, expecting no less than that the nextinstant we would be swept with grape and canister, stampededtumultuously. There were quite a number of wells right around us, andall of these were filled full of men that fell into them as the crowdrushed away. Many had legs and arms broken, and I have no doubt thatseveral were killed. 

It was the stormiest five minutes that I ever saw. 

While this was going on two of my company, belonging to the Fifth IowaCavalry, were in hot pursuit of Curtis. I had seen them start andshouted to them to come back, as I feared they would be set upon by theRaiders and murdered. But the din was so overpowering that they could nothear me, and doubtless would not have come back if they had heard. 

Curtis ran diagonally down the hill, jumping over the tents and knockingdown the men who happened in his way. Arriving at the swamp he plungedin, sinking nearly to his hips in the fetid, filthy ooze. He forged hisway through with terrible effort. His pursuers followed his example, andcaught up to him just as he emerged on the other side. They struck himon the back of the head with their clubs, and knocked him down. 

By this time order had been restored about us. The guns remained silent, and the crowd massed around us again. From where we were we could seethe successful end of the chase after Curtis, and could see his captorsstart back with him. Their success was announced with a roar of applausefrom the North Side. Both captors and captured were greatly exhausted, and they were coming back very slowly. Key ordered the balance up on tothe scaffold. They obeyed promptly. The priest resumed his reading ofthe service for the condemned. The excitement seemed to make the doomedones exceedingly thirsty. I never saw men drink such inordinatequantities of water. They called for it continually, gulped down a quartor more at a time, and kept two men going nearly all the time carrying itto them. 

When Curtis finally arrived, he sat on the ground for a minute or so, torest, and then, reeking with filth, slowly and painfully climbed thesteps. Delaney seemed to think he was suffering as much from fright asanything else, and said to him:

"Come on up, now, show yourself a man, and die game. "

Again the priest resumed his reading, but it had no interest to Delaney, who kept calling out directions to Pete Donelly, who was standing in thecrowd, as to dispositions to be made of certain bits of stolen property:to give a watch to this one, a ring to another, and so on. Once thepriest stopped and said:

"My son, let the things of this earth go, and turn your attention towardthose of heaven. "

Delaney paid no attention to this admonition. The whole six then begandelivering farewell messages to those in the crowd. Key pulled a watchfrom his pocket and said:

"Two minutes more to talk. "

Delaney said cheerfully:

"Well, good by, b'ys; if I've hurted any of y ez, I hope ye'll forgiveme. Shpake up, now, any of yez that I've hurted, and say yell forgiveme. "

We called upon Marion Friend, whose throat Delaney had tried to cut threeweeks before while robbing him of forty dollars, to come forward, butFriend was not in a forgiving mood, and refused with an oath. 

Key said:

"Time's up!" put the watch back in his pocket and raised his hand like anofficer commanding a gun. Harris and Payne laid hold of the ropes to thesupports of the planks. Each of the six hangmen tied a condemned man'shands, pulled a meal sack down over his head, placed the noose around hisneck, drew it up tolerably close, and sprang to the ground. The priestbegan praying aloud. 

Key dropped his hand. Payne and Harris snatched the supports out with asingle jerk. The planks fell with a clatter. Five of the bodies swungaround dizzily in the air. The sixth that of "Mosby, " a large, powerful, raw-boned man, one of the worst in the lot, and who, among other crimes, had killed Limber Jim's brother-broke the rope, and fell with a thud tothe ground. Some of the men ran forward, examined the body, and decidedthat he still lived. The rope was cut off his neck, the meal sackremoved, and water thrown in his face until consciousness returned. At the first instant he thought he was in eternity. He gasped out:

"Where am I? Am I in the other world?"

Limber Jim muttered that they would soon show him where he was, and wenton grimly fixing up the scaffold anew. "Mosby" soon realized what hadhappened, and the unrelenting purpose of the Regulator Chiefs. Then hebegan to beg piteously for his life, saying:

"O for God's sake, do not put me up there again! God has spared my lifeonce. He meant that you should be merciful to me. "

Limber Jim deigned him no reply. When the scaffold was rearranged, and astout rope had replaced the broken one, he pulled the meal sack once moreover "Mosby's" head, who never ceased his pleadings. Then picking up thelarge man as if he were a baby, he carried him to the scaffold and handedhim up to Tom Larkin, who fitted the noose around his neck and sprangdown. The supports had not been set with the same delicacy as at first, and Limber Jim had to set his heel and wrench desperately at them beforehe could force them out. Then "Mosby" passed away without a struggle. 

After hanging till life was extinct, the bodies were cut down, themeal-sacks pulled off their faces, and the Regulators formal two parallellines, through which all the prisoners passed and took a look at thebodies. Pete Donnelly and Dick Allen knelt down and wiped the froth offDelaney's lips, and swore vengeance against those who had done him todeath. 

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

AFTER THE EXECUTION--FORMATION OF A POLICE FORCE--ITS FIRST CHIEF--"SPANKING" AN OFFENDER. 

After the executions Key, knowing that he, and all those prominentlyconnected with the hanging, would be in hourly danger of assassination ifthey remained inside, secured details as nurses and ward-masters in thehospital, and went outside. In this crowd were Key, Ned Carrigan, LimberJim, Dick McCullough, the six hangmen, the two Corporals who pulled theprops from under the scaffold, and perhaps some others whom I do not nowremember. 

In the meanwhile provision had been made for the future maintenance oforder in the prison by the organization of a regular police force, whichin time came to number twelve hundred men. These were divided intocompanies, under appropriate officers. Guards were detailed for certainlocations, patrols passed through the camp in all directions continually, and signals with whistles could summon sufficient assistance to suppressany disturbance, or carry out any orders from the chief. 

The chieftainship was first held by Key, but when he went outside heappointed Sergeant A. R. Hill, of the One Hundredth O. V. I. --now aresident of Wauseon, Ohio, --his successor. Hill was one of thenotabilities of that immense throng. A great, broad-shouldered, giant, in the prime of his manhood--the beginning of his thirtieth year--he wasas good-natured as big, and as mild-mannered as brave. He spoke slowly, softly, and with a slightly rustic twang, that was very tempting to acertain class of sharps to take him up for a "luberly greeny. " The manwho did so usually repented his error in sack-cloth and ashes. 

Hill first came into prominence as the victor in the most stubbornlycontested fight in the prison history of Belle Isle. When the squad ofthe One Hundredth Ohio--captured at Limestone Station, East Tennessee, inSeptember, 1863--arrived on Belle Isle, a certain Jack Oliver, of theNineteenth Indiana, was the undisputed fistic monarch of the Island. He did not bear his blushing honors modestly; few of a right arm thatindefinite locality known as "the middle of next week, " is somethingthat the possessor can as little resist showing as can a girl her firstsolitaire ring. To know that one can certainly strike a disagreeablefellow out of time is pretty sure to breed a desire to do that thingwhenever occasion serves. Jack Oliver was one who did not let his bicepsrust in inaction, but thrashed everybody on the Island whom he thoughtneeded it, and his ideas as to those who should be included in this classwidened daily, until it began to appear that he would soon feel it hisduty to let no unwhipped man escape, but pound everybody on the Island. 

One day his evil genius led him to abuse a rather elderly man belongingto Hill's mess. As he fired off his tirade of contumely, Hill said withmore than his usual "soft" rusticity:

"Mister--I--don't--think--it--just--right--for--a--young--man--to--call--an--old--one--such--bad names. "

Jack Oliver turned on him savagely. 

"Well! may be you want to take it up?"

The grin on Hill's face looked still more verdant, as he answered withgentle deliberation:

"Well--mister--I--don't--go--around--a--hunting--things--but--I--ginerally--take--care--of--all--that's--sent--me!"

Jack foamed, but his fiercest bluster could not drive that infantilesmile from Hill's face, nor provoke a change in the calm slowness of hisspeech. 

It was evident that nothing would do but a battle-royal, and Jack hadsense enough to see that the imperturbable rustic was likely to give hima job of some difficulty. He went off and came back with his clan, whileHill's comrades of the One Hundredth gathered around to insure him fairplay. Jack pulled off his coat and vest, rolled up his sleeves, and madeother elaborate preparations for the affray. Hill, without removing agarment, said, as he surveyed him with a mocking smile:

"Mister--you--seem--to--be--one--of--them--partick-e-ler--fellers. "

Jack roared out, "By ---, I'll make you partickeler before I get through with you. Now, how shall we settle this? Regular stand-up-and knock-down, or rough andtumble?"

If anything Hill's face was more vacantly serene, and his tones blanderthan ever, as he answered:

"Strike--any--gait--that--suits--you, --Mister;--I guess--I--will--be--able--to--keep--up--with--you. "

They closed. Hill feinted with his left, and as Jack uncovered to guard, he caught him fairly on the lower left ribs, by a blow from his mightyright fist, that sounded--as one of the by-standers expressed it--"likestriking a hollow log with a maul. "

The color in Jack's face paled. He did not seem to understand how he hadlaid himself open to such a pass, and made the same mistake, receivingagain a sounding blow in the short ribs. This taught him nothing, either, for again he opened his guard in response to a feint, and againcaught a blow on his luckless left, ribs, that drove the blood from hisface and the breath from his body. He reeled back among his supportersfor an instant to breathe. Recovering his wind, be dashed at Hillfeinted strongly with his right, but delivered a terrible kick againstthe lower part of the latter's abdomen. Both closed and fought savagelyat half-arm's length for an instant; during which Hill struck Jack sofairly in the mouth as to break out three front teeth, which the latterswallowed. Then they clenched and struggled to throw each other. Hill'ssuperior strength and skill crushed his opponent to the ground, and hefell upon him. As they grappled there, one of Jack's followers sought toaid his leader by catching Hill by the hair, intending to kick him in theface. In an instant he was knocked down by a stalwart member of the OneHundredth, and then literally lifted out of the ring by kicks. 

Jack was soon so badly beaten as to be unable to cry "enough!" One ofhis friends did that service for him, the fight ceased, and thenceforthMr. Oliver resigned his pugilistic crown, and retired to the shades ofprivate life. He died of scurvy and diarrhea, some months afterward, inAndersonville. 

The almost hourly scenes of violence and crime that marked the days andnights before the Regulators began operations were now succeeded by thegreatest order. The prison was freer from crime than the best governedCity. There were frequent squabbles and fights, of course, and manypetty larcenies. Rations of bread and of wood, articles of clothing, and the wretched little cans and half canteens that formed our cookingutensils, were still stolen, but all these were in a sneak-thief way. There was an entire absence of the audacious open-day robbery and murder--the "raiding" of the previous few weeks. The summary punishmentinflicted on the condemned was sufficient to cow even bolder men than theRaiders, and they were frightened into at least quiescence. 

Sergeant Hill's administration was vigorous, and secured the bestresults. He became a judge of all infractions of morals and law, and satat the door of his tent to dispense justice to all comers, like the Cadiof a Mahometan Village. His judicial methods and punishments alsoreminded one strongly of the primitive judicature of Oriental lands. The wronged one came before him and told his tale: he had his blouse, orhis quart cup, or his shoes, or his watch, or his money stolen during thenight. The suspected one was also summoned, confronted with his accuser, and sharply interrogated. Hill would revolve the stories in his mind, decide the innocence or guilt of the accused, and if he thought theaccusation sustained, order the culprit to punishment. He did notimitate his Mussulman prototypes to the extent of bowstringing ordecapitating the condemned, nor did he cut any thief's hands off, nor yetnail his ears to a doorpost, but he introduced a modification of thebastinado that made those who were punished by it even wish they weredead. The instrument used was what is called in the South a "shake"--a split shingle, a yard or more long, and with one end whittled down toform a handle. The culprit was made to bend down until he could catcharound his ankles with his hands. The part of the body thus brought intomost prominence was denuded of clothing and "spanked" from one to twentytimes, as Hill ordered, by the "shake" in same strong and willing hand. It was very amusing--to the bystanders. The "spankee" never seemed toenter very heartily into the mirth of the occasion. As a rule he slepton his face for a week or so after, and took his meals standing. 

The fear of the spanking, and Hill's skill in detecting the guilty ones, had a very salutary effect upon the smaller criminals. 

The Raiders who had been put into irons were very restive under theinfliction, and begged Hill daily to release them. They professed thegreatest penitence, and promised the most exemplary behavior for thefuture. Hill refused to release them, declaring that they should wearthe irons until delivered up to our Government. 

One of the Raiders--named Heffron--had, shortly after his arrest, turnedState's evidence, and given testimony that assisted materially in theconviction of his companions. One morning, a week or so after thehanging, his body was found lying among the other dead at the South Gate. The impression made by the fingers of the hand that had strangled him, were still plainly visible about the throat. There was no doubt as towhy he had been killed, or that the Raiders were his murderers, but theactual perpetrators were never discovered. 

CHAPTER XXXIX. 

JULY--THE PRISON BECOMES MORE CROWDED, THE WEATHER HOTTER, NATIONSPOORER, AND MORTALITY GREATER--SOME OF THE PHENOMENA OF SUFFERING ANDDEATH. 

All during July the prisoners came streaming in by hundreds and thousandsfrom every portion of the long line of battle, stretching from theEastern bank of the Mississippi to the shores of the Atlantic. Over onethousand squandered by Sturgis at Guntown came in; two thousand of thosecaptured in the desperate blow dealt by Hood against the Army of theTennessee on the 22d of the month before Atlanta; hundreds from Hunter'sluckless column in the Shenandoah Valley, thousands from Grant's lines infront of Petersburg. In all, seven thousand one hundred and twenty-eightwere, during the month, turned into that seething mass of corruptinghumanity to be polluted and tainted by it, and to assist in turn to makeit fouler and deadlier. Over seventy hecatombs of chosen victims--of fair youths in the first flush of hopeful manhood, at the thresholdof a life of honor to themselves and of usefulness to the community;beardless boys, rich in the priceless affections of homes, fathers, mothers, sisters and sweethearts, with minds thrilling with highaspirations for the bright future, were sent in as the monthly sacrificeto this Minotaur of the Rebellion, who, couched in his foul lair, slewthem, not with the merciful delivery of speedy death, as his Cretanprototype did the annual tribute of Athenian youths and maidens, but, gloating over his prey, doomed them to lingering destruction. He rottedtheir flesh with the scurvy, racked their minds with intolerablesuspense, burned their bodies with the slow fire of famine, and delightedin each separate pang, until they sank beneath the fearful accumulation. Theseus [Sherman. D. W. ]--the deliverer--was coming. His terrible swordcould be seen gleaming as it rose and fell on the banks of the James, andin the mountains beyond Atlanta, where he was hewing his way towards themand the heart of the Southern Confederacy. But he came too late to savethem. Strike as swiftly and as heavily as he would, he could not strikeso hard nor so sure at his foes with saber blow and musket shot, as theycould at the hapless youths with the dreadful armament of starvation anddisease. 

Though the deaths were one thousand eight hundred and seventeen more thanwere killed at the battle of Shiloh--this left the number in the prisonat the end of the month thirty-one thousand six hundred andseventy-eight. Let me assist the reader's comprehension of themagnitude of this number by giving the population of a few importantCities, according to the census of 1870:

Cambridge, Mass 89, 639Charleston, S. C. 48, 958Columbus, O. 31, 274Dayton, O. 30, 473Fall River, Mass 26, 766Kansas City, Mo 32, 260

The number of prisoners exceeded the whole number of men between the agesof eighteen and forty-five in several of the States and Territories inthe Union. Here, for instance, are the returns for 1870, of men ofmilitary age in some portions of the country:

Arizona 5, 157Colorado 15, 166Dakota 5, 301Idaho 9, 431Montana 12, 418Nebraska 35, 677Nevada 24, 762New Hampshire 60, 684Oregon 23, 959Rhode Island 44, 377Vermont 62, 450West Virginia 6, 832

It was more soldiers than could be raised to-day, under strong pressure, in either Alabama, Arizona, Arkansas, California, Colorado, Connecticut, Dakota, Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Idaho, Louisiana, Maine, Minnesota, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New Hampshire, New Medico, Oregon, Rhode Island, South Carolina, Utah, Vermont or West Virginia. 

These thirty-one thousand six hundred and seventy-eight active young men, who were likely to find the confines of a State too narrow for them, werecooped up on thirteen acres of ground--less than a farmer gives forplay-ground for a half dozen colts or a small flock of sheep. There washardly room for all to lie down at night, and to walk a few hundred feetin any direction would require an hour's patient threading of the mass ofmen and tents. 

The weather became hotter and hotter; at midday the sand would burn thehand. The thin skins of fair and auburn-haired men blistered under thesun's rays, and swelled up in great watery puffs, which soon became thebreeding grounds of the hideous maggots, or the still more deadlygangrene. The loathsome swamp grew in rank offensiveness with everyburning hour. The pestilence literally stalked at noon-day, and struckhis victims down on every hand. One could not look a rod in anydirection without seeing at least a dozen men in the last frightfulstages of rotting Death. 

Let me describe the scene immediately around my own tent during the lasttwo weeks of July, as a sample of the condition of the whole prison:I will take a space not larger than a good sized parlor or sitting room. On this were at least fifty of us. Directly in front of me lay twobrothers--named Sherwood--belonging to Company I, of my battalion, whocame originally from Missouri. They were now in the last stages ofscurvy and diarrhea. Every particle of muscle and fat about their limbsand bodies had apparently wasted away, leaving the skin clinging close tothe bone of the face, arms, hands, ribs and thighs--everywhere except thefeet and legs, where it was swollen tense and transparent, distended withgallons of purulent matter. Their livid gums, from which most of theirteeth had already fallen, protruded far beyond their lips. To their leftlay a Sergeant and two others of their company, all three slowly dyingfrom diarrhea, and beyond was a fair-haired German, young and intelligentlooking, whose life was ebbing tediously away. To my right was ahandsome young Sergeant of an Illinois Infantry Regiment, captured atKenesaw. His left arm had been amputated between the shoulder and elbow, and he was turned into the Stockade with the stump all undressed, savethe ligating of the arteries. Of course, he had not been inside an houruntil the maggot flies had laid eggs in the open wound, and before theday was gone the worms were hatched out, and rioting amid the inflamedand super-sensitive nerves, where their every motion was agony. Accustomed as we were to misery, we found a still lower depth in hismisfortune, and I would be happier could I forget his pale, drawn face, as he wandered uncomplainingly to and fro, holding his maimed limb withhis right hand, occasionally stopping to squeeze it, as one does a boil, and press from it a stream of maggots and pus. I do not think he ate orslept for a week before he died. Next to him staid an Irish Sergeant ofa New York Regiment, a fine soldierly man, who, with pardonable pride, wore, conspicuously on his left breast, a medal gained by gallantry whilea British soldier in the Crimea. He was wasting away with diarrhea, anddied before the month was out. 

This was what one could see on every square rod of the prison. Where Iwas was not only no worse than the rest of the prison, but was probablymuch better and healthier, as it was the highest ground inside, farthestfrom the Swamp, and having the dead line on two sides, had a ventilationthat those nearer the center could not possibly have. Yet, with allthese conditions in our favor, the mortality was as I have described. 

Near us an exasperating idiot, who played the flute, had establishedhimself. Like all poor players, he affected the low, mournful notes, as plaintive as the distant cooing of the dove in lowering, weather. He played or rather tooted away in his "blues"-inducing strain hour afterhour, despite our energetic protests, and occasionally flinging a club athim. There was no more stop to him than to a man with a hand-organ, andto this day the low, sad notes of a flute are the swiftest reminder to meof those sorrowful, death-laden days. 

I had an illustration one morning of how far decomposition would progressin a man's body before he died. My chum and I found a treasure-trove inthe streets, in the shape of the body of a man who died during the night. The value of this "find" was that if we took it to the gate, we would beallowed to carry it outside to the deadhouse, and on our way back have anopportunity to pick up a chunk of wood, to use in cooking. Whilediscussing our good luck another party came up and claimed the body. A verbal dispute led to one of blows, in which we came off victorious, and I hastily caught hold of the arm near the elbow to help bear the bodyaway. The skin gave way under my hand, and slipped with it down to thewrist, like a torn sleeve. It was sickening, but I clung to my prize, and secured a very good chunk of wood while outside with it. The woodwas very much needed by my mess, as our squad had then had none for morethan a week. 

CHAPTER XL. 

THE BATTLE OF THE 22D OF JULY--THE ARMS OF THE TENNESSEE ASSAULTED FRONTAND REAR--DEATH OF GENERAL MCPHERSON--ASSUMPTION OF COMMAND BY GENERALLOGAN--RESULT OF THE BATTLE. 

Naturally, we had a consuming hunger for news of what was beingaccomplished by our armies toward crushing the Rebellion. Now, more thanever, had we reason to ardently wish for the destruction of the Rebelpower. Before capture we had love of country and a natural desire forthe triumph of her flag to animate us. Now we had a hatred of the Rebelsthat passed expression, and a fierce longing to see those who dailytortured and insulted us trampled down in the dust of humiliation. 

The daily arrival of prisoners kept us tolerably well informed as to thegeneral progress of the campaign, and we added to the information thusobtained by getting--almost daily--in some manner or another--a copy of aRebel paper. Most frequently these were Atlanta papers, or an issue ofthe "Memphis-Corinth-Jackson-Grenada-Chattanooga-Resacca-Marietta-AtlantaAppeal, " as they used to facetiously term a Memphis paper that left thatCity when it was taken in 1862, and for two years fell back from place toplace, as Sherman's Army advanced, until at last it gave up the strugglein September, 1864, in a little Town south of Atlanta, after about twothousand miles of weary retreat from an indefatigable pursuer. Thepapers were brought in by "fresh fish, " purchased from the guards at fromfifty cents to one dollar apiece, or occasionally thrown in to us whenthey had some specially disagreeable intelligence, like the defeat ofBanks, or Sturgis, or Bunter, to exult over. I was particularlyfortunate in getting hold of these. Becoming installed as general readerfor a neighborhood of several thousand men, everything of this kind wasimmediately brought to me, to be read aloud for the benefit of everybody. All the older prisoners knew me by the nick-name of "Illinoy"--a designation arising from my wearing on my cap, when I entered prison, a neat little white metal badge of "ILLS. " When any reading matter wasbrought into our neighborhood, there would be a general cry of:

"Take it up to 'Illinoy, '" and then hundreds would mass around myquarters to bear the news read. 

The Rebel papers usually had very meager reports of the operations of thearmies, and these were greatly distorted, but they were still veryinteresting, and as we always started in to read with the expectationthat the whole statement was a mass of perversions and lies, where truthwas an infrequent accident, we were not likely to be much impressed withit. 

There was a marled difference in the tone of the reports brought in fromthe different armies. Sherman's men were always sanguine. They had nodoubt that they were pushing the enemy straight to the wall, and thatevery day brought the Southern Confederacy much nearer its downfall. Those from the Army of the Potomac were never so hopeful. They wouldadmit that Grant was pounding Lee terribly, but the shadow of thefrequent defeats of the Army of the Potomac seemed to hang depressinglyover them. 

There came a day, however, when our sanguine hopes as to Sherman werechecked by a possibility that he had failed; that his long campaigntowards Atlanta had culminated in such a reverse under the very walls ofthe City as would compel an abandonment of the enterprise, and possibly ahumiliating retreat. We knew that Jeff. Davis and his Government werestrongly dissatisfied with the Fabian policy of Joe Johnston. The papershad told us of the Rebel President's visit to Atlanta, of his bittercomments on Johnston's tactics; of his going so far as to sneer about thenecessity of providing pontoons at Key West, so that Johnston mightcontinue his retreat even to Cuba. Then came the news of Johnston'sSupersession by Hood, and the papers were full of the exultingpredictions of what would now be accomplished "when that gallant youngsoldier is once fairly in the saddle. "

All this meant one supreme effort to arrest the onward course of Sherman. It indicated a resolve to stake the fate of Atlanta, and the fortunes ofthe Confederacy in the West, upon the hazard of one desperate fight. We watched the summoning up of every Rebel energy for the blow withapprehension. We dreaded another Chickamauga. 

The blow fell on the 22d of July. It was well planned. The Army of theTennessee, the left of Sherman's forces, was the part struck. On thenight of the 21st Hood marched a heavy force around its left flank andgained its rear. On the 22d this force fell on the rear with theimpetuous violence of a cyclone, while the Rebels in the worksimmediately around Atlanta attacked furiously in front. 

It was an ordeal that no other army ever passed through successfully. The steadiest troops in Europe would think it foolhardiness to attempt towithstand an assault in force in front and rear at the same time. The finest legions that follow any flag to-day must almost inevitablysuccumb to such a mode of attack. But the seasoned veterans of the Armyof the Tennessee encountered the shock with an obstinacy which showedthat the finest material for soldiery this planet holds was that in whichundaunted hearts beat beneath blue blouses. Springing over the front oftheir breastworks, they drove back with a withering fire the forceassailing them in the rear. This beaten off, they jumped back to theirproper places, and repulsed the assault in front. This was the way thebattle was waged until night compelled a cessation of operations. Ourboys were alternately behind the breastworks firing at Rebels advancingupon the front, and in front of the works firing upon those coming up inthe rear. Sometimes part of our line would be on one side of the works, and part on the other. 

In the prison we were greatly excited over the result of the engagement, of which we were uncertain for many days. A host of new prisonersperhaps two thousand--was brought in from there, but as they werecaptured during the progress of the fight, they could not speakdefinitely as to its issue. The Rebel papers exulted without stint overwhat they termed "a glorious victory. " They were particularly jubilantover the death of McPherson, who, they claimed, was the brain and guidinghand of Sherman's army. One paper likened him to the pilot-fish, whichguides the shark to his prey. Now that he was gone, said the paper, Sherman's army becomes a great lumbering hulk, with no one in it capableof directing it, and it must soon fall to utter ruin under the skilfullydelivered strokes of the gallant Hood. 

We also knew that great numbers of wounded had been brought to the prisonhospital, and this seemed to confirm the Rebel claim of a victory, as itshowed they retained possession of the battle field. 

About the 1st of August a large squad of Sherman's men, captured in oneof the engagements subsequent to the 22d, came in. We gathered aroundthem eagerly. Among them I noticed a bright, curly-haired, blue-eyedinfantryman--or boy, rather, as he was yet beardless. His cap was marked"68th O. Y. Y. L, " his sleeves were garnished with re-enlistment stripes, and on the breast of his blouse was a silver arrow. To the eye of thesoldier this said that he was a veteran member of the Sixty-EighthRegiment of Ohio Infantry (that is, having already served three years, hehad re-enlisted for the war), and that he belonged to the Third Divisionof the Seventeenth Army Corps. He was so young and fresh looking thatone could hardly believe him to be a veteran, but if his stripes had notsaid this, the soldierly arrangement of clothing and accouterments, andthe graceful, self-possessed pose of limbs and body would have told theobserver that he was one of those "Old Reliables" with whom Sherman andGrant had already subdued a third of the Confederacy. His blanket, which, for a wonder, the Rebels had neglected to take from him, wastightly rolled, its ends tied together, and thrown over his shoulderscarf-fashion. His pantaloons were tucked inside his stocking tops, that were pulled up as far as possible, and tied tightly around his anklewith a string. A none-too-clean haversack, containing the inevitablesooty quart cup, and even blacker half-canteen, waft slung easily fromthe shoulder opposite to that on which the blanket rested. Hand him hisfaithful Springfield rifle, put three days' rations in his haversack, andforty rounds in his cartridge bog, and he would be ready, without aninstant's demur or question, to march to the ends of the earth, and fightanything that crossed his path. He was a type of the honest, honorable, self respecting American boy, who, as a soldier, the world has notequaled in the sixty centuries that war has been a profession. I suggested to him that he was rather a youngster to be wearing veteranchevrons. "Yes, " said he, "I am not so old as some of the rest of theboys, but I have seen about as much service and been in the businessabout as long as any of them. They call me 'Old Dad, ' I suppose becauseI was the youngest boy in the Regiment, when we first entered theservice, though our whole Company, officers and all, were only a lot ofboys, and the Regiment to day, what's left of 'em, are about as young alot of officers and men as there are in the service. Why, our oldColonel ain't only twenty-four years old now, and he has been in commandever since we went into Vicksburg. I have heard it said by our boys thatsince we veteranized the whole Regiment, officers, and men, average lessthan twenty-four years old. But they are gray-hounds to march andstayers in a fight, you bet. Why, the rest of the troops over in WestTennessee used to call our Brigade 'Leggett's Cavalry, ' for they alwayshad us chasing Old Forrest, and we kept him skedaddling, too, prettylively. But I tell you we did get into a red hot scrimmage on the 22d. It just laid over Champion Hills, or any of the big fights aroundVicksburg, and they were lively enough to amuse any one. "

"So you were in the affair on the 22d, were you! We are awful anxious tohear all about it. Come over here to my quarters and tell us all youknow. All we know is that there has been a big fight, with McPhersonkilled, and a heavy loss of life besides, and the Rebels claim a greatvictory. "

"O, they be -----. It was the sickest victory they ever got. About onemore victory of that kind would make their infernal old Confederacy readyfor a coroner's inquest. Well, I can tell you pretty much all about thatfight, for I reckon if the truth was known, our regiment fired about thefirst and last shot that opened and closed the fighting on that day. Well, you see the whole Army got across the river, and were closing inaround the City of Atlanta. Our Corps, the Seventeenth, was the extremeleft of the army, and were moving up toward the City from the East. The Fifteenth (Logan's) Corps joined us on the right, then the Army ofthe Cumberland further to the right. We run onto the Rebs about sundownthe 21st. They had some breastworks on a ridge in front of us, and wehad a pretty sharp fight before we drove them off. We went right towork, and kept at it all night in changing and strengthening the oldRebel barricades, fronting them towards Atlanta, and by morning had somegood solid works along our whole line. During the night we fancied wecould hear wagons or artillery moving away in front of us, apparentlygoing South, or towards our left. About three or four o'clock in themorning, while I was shoveling dirt like a beaver out on the works, theLieutenant came to me and said the Colonel wanted to see me, pointing toa large tree in the rear, where I could find him. I reported and foundhim with General Leggett, who commanded our Division, talking mightyserious, and Bob Wheeler, of F Company, standing there with hisSpringfield at a parade rest. As soon as I came up, the Colonel says:

"Boys, the General wants two level-headed chaps to go out beyond thepickets to the front and toward the left. I have selected you for theduty. Go as quietly as possible and as fast as you can; keep your eyesand ears open; don't fire a shot if you can help it, and come back andtell us exactly what you have seen and heard, and not what you imagine orsuspect. I have selected you for the duty. '

"He gave us the countersign, and off we started over the breastworks andthrough the thick woods. We soon came to our skirmish or pickets, only afew rods in front of our works, and cautioned them not to fire on us ingoing or returning. We went out as much as half a mile or more, until wecould plainly hear the sound of wagons and artillery. We then cautiouslycrept forward until we could see the main road leading south from theCity filled with marching men, artillery and teams. We could hear thecommands of the officers and see the flags and banners of regiment afterregiment as they passed us. We got back quietly and quickly, passedthrough our picket line all right, and found the General and our Colonelsitting on a log where we had left them, waiting for us. We reportedwhat we had seen and heard, and gave it as our opinion that the Johnnieswere evacuating Atlanta. The General shook his head, and the Colonelsays: 'You may re turn to your company. ' Bob says to me:

"'The old General shakes his head as though he thought them d---d Rebsain't evacuating Atlanta so mighty sudden, but are up to some devilmentagain. I ain't sure but he's right. They ain't going to keep fallingback and falling back to all eternity, but are just agoin' to give us arip-roaring great big fight one o' these days--when they get a goodready. You hear me!'

"Saying which we both went to our companies, and laid down to get alittle sleep. It was about daylight then, and I must have snoozed awayuntil near noon, when I heard the order 'fall in!' and found the regimentgetting into line, and the boys all tallying about going right intoAtlanta; that the Rebels had evacuated the City during the night, andthat we were going to have a race with the Fifteenth Corps as to whichwould get into the City first. We could look away out across a largefield in front of our works, and see the skirmish line advancing steadilytowards the main works around the City. Not a shot was being, fired oneither side. 

"To our surprise, instead of marching to the front and toward the City, we filed off into a small road cut through the woods and marched rapidlyto the rear. We could not understand what it meant. We marched at quicktime, feeling pretty mad that we had to go to the rear, when the rest ofour Division were going into Atlanta. 

"We passed the Sixteenth Corps lying on their arms, back in some openfields, and the wagon trains of our Corps all comfortably corralled, andfinally found ourselves out by the Seventeenth Corps headquarters. Twoor three companies were sent out to picket several roads that seemed tocross at that point, as it was reported 'Rebel Cavalry' had been seen onthese roads but a short time before, and this accounted for our beingrushed out in such a great hurry. 

"We had just stacked arms and were going to take a little rest after ourrapid march, when several Rebel prisoners were brought in by some of theboys who had straggled a little. They found the Rebels on the road wehad just marched out on. Up to this time not a shot had been fired. All was quiet back at the main works we had just left, when suddenly wesaw several staff officers come tearing up to the Colonel, who ordered usto 'fall in!' 'Take aims!' 'about, face!' The Lieutenant Colonel dasheddown one of the roads where one of the companies had gone out on picket. The Major and Adjutant galloped down the others. We did not wait forthem to come back, though, but moved right back on the road we had justcome out, in line of battle, our colors in the road, and our flanks inopen timber. We soon reached a fence enclosing a large field, and therecould see a line of Rebels moving by the flank, and forming, facingtoward Atlanta, but to the left and in the rear of the position occupiedby our Corps. As soon as we reached the fence we fired a round or twointo the backs of these gray coats, who broke into confusion. 

"Just then the other companies joined us, and we moved off on 'doublequick by the right flank, ' for you see we were completely cut off fromthe troops up at the front, and we had to get well over to the right toget around the flank of the Rebels. Just about the time we fired on therebels the Sixteenth Corps opened up a hot fire of musketry and artilleryon them, some of their shot coming over mighty close to where we were. We marched pretty fast, and finally turned in through some open fields tothe left, and came out just in the rear of the Sixteenth Corps, who werefighting like devils along their whole line. 

"Just as we came out into the open field we saw General R. K. Scott, who used to be our Colonel, and who commanded our brigade, come tearingtoward us with one or two aids or orderlies. He was on his big clay-bankhorse, 'Old Hatchie, ' as we called him, as we captured him on thebattlefield at the battle of 'Matamora, ' or 'Hell on the Hatchie, ' as ourboys always called it. He rode up to the Colonel, said somethinghastily, when all at once we heard the all-firedest crash of musketry andartillery way up at the front where we had built the works the nightbefore and left the rest of our brigade and Division getting ready toprance into Atlanta when we were sent off to the rear. Scott put spursto his old horse, who was one of the fastest runners in our Division, and away he went back towards the position where his brigade and thetroops immediately to their left were now hotly engaged. He rode rightalong in rear of the Sixteenth Corps, paying no attention apparently tothe shot and shell and bullets that were tearing up the earth andexploding and striking all around him. His aids and orderlies vainlytried to keep up with him. We could plainly see the Rebel lines as theycame out of the woods into the open grounds to attack the SixteenthCorps, which had hastily formed in the open field, without any signs ofworks, and were standing up like men, having a hand-to-hand fight. We were just far enough in the rear so that every blasted shot or shellthat was fired too high to hit the ranks of the Sixteenth Corps camerattling over amongst us. All this time we were marching fast, followingin the direction General Scott had taken, who evidently had ordered theColonel to join his brigade up at the front. We were down under thecrest of a little hill, following along the bank of a little creek, keeping under cover of the bank as much as possible to protect us fromthe shots of the enemy. We suddenly saw General Logan and one or two ofhis staff upon the right bank of the ravine riding rapidly toward us. As he neared the head of the regiment he shouted:

"'Halt! What regiment is that, and where are you going?'" The Colonel, in a loud voice, that all could hear, told him: "The Sixty-Eighth Ohio;going to join our brigade of the Third Division--your old Division, General, of the Seventeenth Corps. "

"Logan says, 'you had better go right in here on the left of Dodge. The Third Division have hardly ground enough left now to bury their dead. God knows they need you. But try it on, if you think you can get tothem. '

"Just at this moment a staff officer came riding up on the opposite sideof the ravine from where Logan was and interrupted Logan, who was abouttelling the Colonel not to try to go to the position held by the ThirdDivision by the road cut through the woods whence we had come out, but tokeep off to the right towards the Fifteenth Corps, as the woods referredto were full of Rebels. The officer saluted Logan, and shouted across:

"General Sherman directs me to inform you of the death of GeneralMcPherson, and orders you to take command of the Army of the Tennessee;have Dodge close well up to the Seventeenth Corps, and Sherman willreinforce you to the extent of the whole army. '

"Logan, standing in his stirrups, on his beautiful black horse, formed apicture against the blue sky as we looked up the ravine at him, his blackeyes fairly blazing and his long black hair waving in the wind. He replied in a ringing, clear tone that we all could hear:

"Say to General Sherman I have heard of McPherson's death, and haveassumed the command of the Army of the Tennessee, and have alreadyanticipated his orders in regard to closing the gap between Dodge and theSeventeenth Corps. '

"This, of course, all happened in one quarter of the time I have beentelling you. Logan put spurs to his horse and rode in one direction, the staff officer of General Sherman in another, and we started on arapid step toward the front. This was the first we had heard ofMcPherson's death, and it made us feel very bad. Some of the officersand men cried as though they had lost a brother; others pressed theirlips, gritted their teeth, and swore to avenge his death. He was a greatfavorite with all his Army, particularly of our Corps, which he commandedfor a long while. Our company, especially, knew him well, and loved himdearly, for we had been his Headquarters Guard for over a year. As wemarched along, toward the front, we could see brigades, and regiments, and batteries of artillery; coming over from the right of the Army, andtaking position in new lines in rear of the Sixteenth and SeventeenthCorps. Major Generals and their staffs, Brigadier Generals and theirstaffs, were mighty thick along the banks of the little ravine we werefollowing; stragglers and wounded men by the hundred were pouring in tothe safe shelter formed by the broken ground along which we were rapidlymarching; stories were heard of divisions, brigades and regiments thatthese wounded or stragglers belonged, having been all cut to pieces;officers all killed; and the speaker, the only one of his command notkilled, wounded or captured. But you boys have heard and seen the samecowardly sneaks, probably, in fights that you were in. The battle ragedfuriously all this time; part of the time the Sixteenth Corps seemed tobe in the worst; then it would let up on them and the Seventeenth Corpswould be hotly engaged along their whole front. 

"We had probably marched half an hour since leaving Logan, and weregetting pretty near back to our main line of works, when the Colonelordered a halt and knapsacks to be unslung and piled up. I tell you itwas a relief to get them off, for it was a fearful hot day, and we hadbeen marching almost double quick. We knew that this meant businessthough, and that we were stripping for the fight, which we would soon bein. Just at this moment we saw an ambulance, with the horses on a deadrun, followed by two or three mounted officers and men, coming righttowards us out of the very woods Logan had cautioned the Colonel toavoid. When the ambulance got to where we were it halted. It was prettywell out of danger from the bullets and shell of the enemy. Theystopped, and we recognized Major Strong, of McPherson's Staff, whom theall knew, as he was the Chief Inspector of our Corps, and in theambulance he had the body of General McPherson. Major Strong, it appears, during a slight lull in the fighting at that part of theline, having taken an ambulance and driven into the very jaws of death torecover the remains of his loved commander. It seems he found the bodyright by the side of the little road that we had gone out on when we wentto the rear. He was dead when he found him, having been shot off hishorse, the bullet striking him in the back, just below his heart, probably killing him instantly. There was a young fellow with him whowas wounded also, when Strong found them. He belonged to our FirstDivision, and recognized General McPherson, and stood by him until MajorStrong came up. He was in the ambulance with the body of McPherson whenthey stopped by us. 

"It seems that when the fight opened away back in the rear where we hadbeen, and at the left of the Sixteenth Corps which was almost directly inthe rear of the Seventeenth Corps, McPherson sent his staff and orderlieswith various orders to different parts of the line, and started himselfto ride over from the Seventeenth Corps to the Sixteenth Corps, takingexactly the same course our Regiment had, perhaps an hour before, but theRebels had discovered there was a gap between the Sixteenth andSeventeenth Corps, and meeting no opposition to their advances in thisstrip of woods, where they were hidden from view, they had marched rightalong down in the rear, and with their line at right angles with the lineof works occupied by the left of the Seventeenth Corps; they were thusparallel and close to the little road McPherson had taken, and probablyhe rode right into them and was killed before he realized the truesituation. 

"Having piled our knapsacks, and left a couple of our older men, who wereplayed out with the heat and most ready to drop with sunstroke, to guardthem, we started on again. The ambulance with the corpse of Gen. McPherson moved off towards the right of the Army, which was the last weever saw of that brave and handsome soldier. 

"We bore off a little to the right of a large open field on top of a highhill where one of our batteries was pounding away at a tremendous rate. We came up to the main line of works just about at the left of theFifteenth Corps. They seemed to be having an easy time of it just then--no fighting going on in their front, except occasional shots from someheavy guns on the main line of Rebel works around the City. We crossedright over the Fifteenth Corps' works and filed to the left, keepingalong on the outside of our works. We had not gone far before the Rebelgunners in the main works around the City discovered us; and the way theydid tear loose at us was a caution. Their aim was rather bad, however, and most of their shots went over us. We saw one of them--I think it wasa shell--strike an artillery caisson belonging to one of our-batteries. It exploded as it struck, and then the caisson, which was full ofammunition, exploded with an awful noise, throwing pieces of wood andiron and its own load of shot and shell high into the air, scatteringdeath and destruction to the men and horses attached to it. We thoughtwe saw arms and legs and parts of bodies of men flying in everydirection; but we were glad to learn afterwards that it was the contentsof the knapsacks of the Battery boys, who had strapped them on thecaissons for transportation. 

"Just after passing the hill where our battery was making things solively, they stopped firing to let us pass. We saw General Leggett, ourDivision Commander, come riding toward us. He was outside of our line ofworks, too. You know how we build breastworks--sort of zigzag like, youknow, so they cannot be enfiladed. Well, that's just the way the workswere along there, and you never saw such a curious shape as we formed ourDivision in. Why, part of them were on one side of the works, and goalong a little further and here was a regiment, or part of a regiment onthe other side, both sets firing in opposite directions. 

"No sir'ee, they were not demoralized or in confusion, they were cool andas steady as on parade. But the old Division had, you know, never beendriven from any position they had once taken, in all their long service, and they did not propose to leave that ridge until they got orders fromsome one beside the Rebs. 

"There were times when a fellow did not know which side of the works wasthe safest, for the Johnnies were in front of us and in rear of us. You see, our Fourth Division, which had been to the left of us, had beenforced to quit their works, when the Rebs got into the works in theirrear, so that our Division was now at the point where our line turnedsharply to the left, and rear--in the direction of the Sixteenth Corps. 

"We got into business before we had been there over three minutes. A line of the Rebs tried to charge across the open fields in front of us, but by the help of the old twenty-four pounders (which proved to be partof Cooper's Illinois Battery, that we had been alongside of in many ahard fight before), we drove them back a-flying, only to have to jumpover on the outside of our works the next minute to tackle a heavy forcethat came for our rear through that blasted strip of woods. We soondrove them off, and the firing on both sides seemed to have pretty muchstopped. 

"'Our Brigade, ' which we discovered, was now commanded by 'Old Whiskers'(Colonel Piles, of the Seventy-Eighth Ohio. I'll bet he's got thelongest whiskers of any man in the Army. ) You see General Scott had notbeen seen or heard of since he had started to the rear after our regimentwhen the fighting first commenced. We all believed that he was eitherkilled or captured, or he would have been with his command. He was asplendid soldier, and a bull-dog of a fighter. His absence was a greatloss, but we had not much time to think of such things, for our brigadewas then ordered to leave the works and to move to the right about twentyor thirty rods across a large ravine, where we were placed in position inan open corn-field, forming a new line at quite an angle from the line ofworks we had just left, extending to the left, and getting us back neareronto a line with the Sixteenth Corps. The battery of howitzers, nowreinforced by a part of the Third Ohio heavy guns, still occupied the oldworks on the highest part of the hill, just to the right of our new line. We took our position just on the brow of a hill, and were ordered to liedown, and the rear rank to go for rails, which we discovered a few rodsbehind us in the shape of a good ten-rail fence. Every rear-rank chapcame back with all the rails he could lug, and we barely had time to laythem down in front of us, forming a little barricade of six to eight orten inches high, when we heard the most unearthly Rebel yell directly infront of us. It grew louder and came nearer and nearer, until we couldsee a solid line of the gray coats coming out of the woods and down theopposite slope, their battle flags flying, officers in front with drawnswords, arms at right shoulder, and every one of them yelling like somany Sioux Indians. The line seemed to be massed six or eight ranksdeep, followed closely by the second line, and that by the third, each, if possible, yelling louder and appearing more desperately reckless thanthe one ahead. At their first appearance we opened on them, and so didthe bully old twenty-four-pounders, with canister. 

"On they came; the first line staggered and wavered back on to thesecond, which was coming on the double quick. Such a raking as we didgive them. Oh, Lordy, how we did wish that we had the breech loadingSpencers or Winchesters. But we had the old reliable Springfields, andwe poured it in hot and heavy. By the time the charging column got downthe opposite slope, and were struggling through the thicket ofundergrowth in the ravine, they were one confused mass of officers andmen, the three lines now forming one solid column, which made severaldesperate efforts to rush up to the top of the hill where we werepunishing them so. One of their first surges came mighty near goingright over the left of our Regiment, as they were lying down behind theirlittle rail piles. But the boys clubbed their guns and the officers usedtheir revolvers and swords and drove them back down the hill. 

"The Seventy-Eighth and Twentieth Ohio, our right and left bowers, whohad been brigaded with us ever since 'Shiloh, ' were into it as hot andheavy as we had been, and had lost numbers of their officers and men, butwere hanging on to their little rail piles when the fight was over. At one time the Rebs were right in on top of the Seventy-Eighth. One bigReb grabbed their colors, and tried to pull them out of the hands of thecolor-bearer. But old Captain Orr, a little, short, dried-up fellow, about sixty years old, struck him with his sword across the back of theneck, and killed him deader than a mackerel, right in his tracks. 

"It was now getting dark, and the Johnnies concluded they had taken abigger contract in trying to drive us off that hill in one day than theyhad counted on, so they quit charging on us, but drew back under cover ofthe woods and along the old line of works that we had left, and kept up apecking away and sharp-shooting at us all night long. They opened fireon us from a number of pieces of artillery from the front, from the left, and from some heavy guns away over to the right of us, in the main worksaround Atlanta. 

"We did not fool away much time that night, either. We got our shovelsand picks, and while part of us were sharpshooting and trying to keep theRebels from working up too close to us, the rest of the boys were puttingup some good solid earthworks right where our rail piles had been, and bymorning we were in splendid shape to have received our friends, no matterwhich way they had come at us, for they kept up such an all-firedshelling of us from so many different directions; that the boys had builttraverses and bomb-proofs at all sorts of angles and in all directions. 

"There was one point off to our right, a few rods up along our old lineof works where there was a crowd of Rebel sharpshooters that annoyed usmore than all the rest, by their constant firing at us through the night. They killed one of Company H's boys, and wounded several others. FinallyCaptain Williams, of D Company, came along and said he wanted a couple ofgood shots out of our company to go with him, so I went for one. He tookabout ten of us, and we crawled down into the ravine in front of where wewere building the works, and got behind a large fallen tree, and we laidthere and could just fire right up into the rear of those fellows as theylay behind a traverse extending back from our old line of works. It wasso dark we could only see where to fire by the flash of guns, but everytime they would shoot, some of us would let them have one. They staidthere until almost daylight, when they, concluded as things looked, sincewe were going to stay, they had better be going. 

"It was an awful night. Down in the ravine below us lay hundreds ofkilled and wounded Rebels, groaning and crying aloud for water and forhelp. We did do what we could for those right around us--but it was sodark, and so many shell bursting and bullets flying around that a fellowcould not get about much. I tell you it was pretty tough next morning togo along to the different companies of our regiment and hear who wereamong the killed and wounded, and to see the long row of graves that werebeing dug to bury our comrades and our officers. There was the Captainof Company E, Nelson Skeeles, of Fulton County, O. , one of--the bravestand best officers in the regiment. By his side lay First SergeantLesnit, and next were the two great, powerful Shepherds--cousins but morelike brothers. One, it seems, was killed while supporting the head ofthe other, who had just received a death wound, thus dying in eachother's arms. 

"But I can't begin to think or tell you the names of all the poor boysthat we laid away to rest in their last, long sleep on that gloomy day. Our Major was severely wounded, and several other officers had been hitmore or less badly. 

"It was a frightful sight, though, to go over the field in front of ourworks on that morning. The Rebel dead and badly wounded laid where theyhad fallen. The bottom and opposite side of the ravine showed howdestructive our fire and that of the canister from the howitzers hadbeen. The underbrush was cut, slashed, and torn into shreds, and thelarger trees were scarred, bruised and broken by the thousands of bulletsand other missiles that had been poured into them from almost everyconceivable direction during the day before. 

"A lot of us boys went way over to the left into Fuller's Division of theSixteenth Corps, to see how some of our boys over there had got throughthe scrimmage, for they had about as nasty a fight as any part of theArmy, and if it had not been for their being just where they were, I amnot sure but what the old Seventeenth Corps would have had a differentstory to tell now. We found our friends had been way out by Decatur, where their brigade had got into a pretty lively fight on their own hook. 

"We got back to camp, and the first thing I knew I was detailed forpicket duty, and we were posted over a few rods across the ravine in ourfront. We had not been out but a short time when we saw a flag of truce, borne by an officer, coming towards us. We halted him, and made him waituntil a report was sent back to Corps headquarters. The Rebel officerwas quite chatty and talkative with our picket officer, while waiting. He said he was on General Cleburne's staff, and that the troops thatcharged us so fiercely the evening before was Cleburne's whole Division, and that after their last repulse, knowing the hill where we were postedwas the most important position along our line, he felt that if theywould keep close to us during the night, and keep up a show of fight, that we would pull out and abandon the hill before morning. He said thathe, with about fifty of their best men, had volunteered to keep up thedemonstration, and it was his party that had occupied the traverse in ourold works the night before and had annoyed us and the Battery men bytheir constant sharpshooting, which we fellows behind the old tree hadfinally tired out. He said they staid until almost daylight, and that helost more than half his men before he left. He also told us that GeneralScott was captured by their Division, at about the time and almost thesame spot as where General McPherson was killed, and that he was not hurtor wounded, and was now a prisoner in their hands. 

"Quite a lot of our staff officers soon came out, and as near as wecould learn the Rebels wanted a truce to bury their dead. Our folkstried to get up an exchange of prisoners that had been taken by bothsides the day before, but for some reason they could not bring it about. But the truce for burying the dead was agreed to. Along about dusk someof the boys on my post got to telling about a lot of silver and brassinstruments that belonged to one of the bands of the Fourth Division, which had been hung up in some small trees a little way over in front ofwhere we were when the fight was going on the day before, and that when, a bullet would strike one of the horns they could hear it go 'pin-g' andin a few minutes 'pan-g' would go another bullet through one of them. 

"A new picket was just coming' on, and I had picked up my blanket andhaversack, and was about ready to start back to camp, when, thinks I, 'I'll just go out there and see about them horns. ' I told the boys whatI was going to do. They all seemed to think it was safe enough, so out Istarted. I had not gone more than a hundred yards, I should think, whenhere I found the horns all hanging around on the trees just as the boyshad described. Some of them had lots of bullet holes in them. But I sawa beautiful, nice looking silver bugle hanging off to one side a little. 'I Thinks, ' says I, 'I'll just take that little toot horn in out of thewet, and take it back to camp. ' I was just reaching up after it when Iheard some one say, "'Halt!' and I'll be dog-Boned if there wasn't two of the meanest lookingRebels, standing not ten feet from me, with their guns cocked and pointedat me, and, of course, I knew I was a goner; they walked me back aboutone hundred and fifty yards, where their picket line was. From there Iwas kept going for an hour or two until we got over to a place on therailroad called East Point. There I got in with a big crowd of ourprisoners, who were taken the day before, and we have been fooling alongin a lot of old cattle cars getting down here ever since. 

"So this is 'Andersonville, ' is it! Well, by ---!"

CHAPTER XLI. 

CLOTHING: ITS RAPID DETERIORATION, AND DEVICES TO REPLENISH IT--DESPERATEEFFORTS TO COVER NAKEDNESS--"LITTLE RED CAP" AND HIS LETTER. 

Clothing had now become an object of real solicitude to us olderprisoners. The veterans of our crowd--the surviving remnant of thosecaptured at Gettysburg--had been prisoners over a year. The next inseniority--the Chickamauga boys--had been in ten months. The Mine Runfellows were eight months old, and my battalion had had seven months'incarceration. None of us were models of well-dressed gentlemen whencaptured. Our garments told the whole story of the hard campaigning wehad undergone. Now, with months of the wear and tear of prison life, sleeping on the sand, working in tunnels, digging wells, etc. , we weretattered and torn to an extent that a second-class tramp would haveconsidered disgraceful. 

This is no reflection upon the quality of the clothes furnished by theGovernment. We simply reached the limit of the wear of textile fabrics. I am particular to say this, because I want to contribute my little mitetowards doing justice to a badly abused part of our Army organization--the Quartermaster's Department. It is fashionable to speak of "shoddy, "and utter some stereotyped sneers about "brown paper shoes, " and"musketo-netting overcoats, " when any discussion of the Quartermasterservice is the subject of conversation, but I have no hesitation inasking the indorsement of my comrades to the statement that we have neverfound anywhere else as durable garments as those furnished us by theGovernment during our service in the Army. The clothes were not as finein texture, nor so stylish in cut as those we wore before or since, butwhen it came to wear they could be relied on to the last thread. It wasalways marvelous to me that they lasted so well, with the rough usage asoldier in the field must necessarily give them. 

But to return to my subject. I can best illustrate the way our clothesdropped off us, piece by piece, like the petals from the last rose ofSummer, by taking my own case as an example: When I entered prison I wasclad in the ordinary garb of an enlisted man of the cavalry--stout, comfortable boots, woolen pocks, drawers, pantaloons, with a"reenforcement, " or "ready-made patches, " as the infantry called them;vest, warm, snug-fitting jacket, under and over shirts, heavy overcoat, and a forage-cap. First my boots fell into cureless ruin, but this wasno special hardship, as the weather had become quite warm, and it wasmore pleasant than otherwise to go barefooted. Then part of theunderclothing retired from service. The jacket and vest followed, theirend being hastened by having their best portions taken to patch up thepantaloons, which kept giving out at the most embarrassing places. Thenthe cape of the overcoat was called upon to assist in repairing thesecontinually-recurring breaches in the nether garments. The sameinsatiate demand finally consumed the whole coat, in a vain attempt toprevent an exposure of person greater than consistent with the usages ofsociety. The pantaloons--or what, by courtesy, I called such, were amonument of careful and ingenious, but hopeless, patching, that shouldhave called forth the admiration of a Florentine artist in mosaic. I have been shown--in later years--many table tops, ornamented inmarquetry, inlaid with thousands of little bits of wood, cunninglyarranged, and patiently joined together. I always look at them withinterest, for I know the work spent upon them: I remember myAndersonville pantaloons. 

The clothing upon the upper part of my body had been reduced to theremains of a knit undershirt. It had fallen into so many holes that itlooked like the coarse "riddles" through which ashes and gravel aresifted. Wherever these holes were the sun had burned my back, breast andshoulders deeply black. The parts covered by the threads and fragmentsforming the boundaries of the holes, were still white. When I pulled myalleged shirt off, to wash or to free it from some of its teemingpopulation, my skin showed a fine lace pattern in black and white, thatwas very interesting to my comrades, and the subject of countless jokesby them. 

They used to descant loudly on the chaste elegance of the design, therichness of the tracing, etc. , and beg me to furnish them with a copy ofit when I got home, for their sisters to work window curtains or tidiesby. They were sure that so striking a novelty in patterns would be veryacceptable. I would reply to their witticisms in the language ofPortia's Prince of Morocco:

 Mislike me not for my complexion-- The shadowed livery of the burning sun. 

One of the stories told me in my childhood by an old negro nurse, was ofa poverty stricken little girl "who slept on the floor and was coveredwith the door, " and she once asked--

"Mamma how do poor folks get along who haven't any door?"

In the same spirit I used to wonder how poor fellows got along who hadn'tany shirt. 

One common way of keeping up one's clothing was by stealing mealsacks. The meal furnished as rations was brought in in white cotton sacks. Sergeants of detachments were required to return these when the rationswere issued the next day. I have before alluded to the generalincapacity of the Rebels to deal accurately with even simple numbers. It was never very difficult for a shrewd Sergeant to make nine sackscount as ten. After awhile the Rebels began to see through this sleightof hand manipulation, and to check it. Then the Sergeants resorted tothe device of tearing the sacks in two, and turning each half in as awhole one. The cotton cloth gained in this way was used for patching, or, if a boy could succeed in beating the Rebels out of enough of it, he would fabricate himself a shirt or a pair of pantaloons. We obtainedall our thread in the same way. A half of a sack, carefully raveled out, would furnish a couple of handfuls of thread. Had it not been for thisresource all our sewing and mending would have come to a standstill. 

Most of our needles were manufactured by ourselves from bones. A pieceof bone, split as near as possible to the required size, was carefullyrubbed down upon a brick, and then had an eye laboriously worked throughit with a bit of wire or something else available for the purpose. The needles were about the size of ordinary darning needles, and answeredthe purpose very well. 

These devices gave one some conception of the way savages provide for thewants of their lives. Time was with them, as with us, of littleimportance. It was no loss of time to them, nor to us, to spend a largeportion of the waking hours of a week in fabricating a needle out of abone, where a civilized man could purchase a much better one with theproduct of three minutes' labor. I do not think any red Indian of theplains exceeded us in the patience with which we worked away at theseminutia of life's needs. 

Of course the most common source of clothing was the dead, and no bodywas carried out with any clothing on it that could be of service to thesurvivors. The Plymouth Pilgrims, who were so well clothed on coming in, and were now dying off very rapidly, furnished many good suits to coverthe nakedness of older, prisoners. Most of the prisoners from the Armyof the Potomac were well dressed, and as very many died within a month orsix weeks after their entrance, they left their clothes in pretty goodcondition for those who constituted themselves their heirs, administrators and assigns. 

For my own part, I had the greatest aversion to wearing dead men'sclothes, and could only bring myself to it after I had been a year inprison, and it became a question between doing that and freezing todeath. 

Every new batch of prisoners was besieged with anxious inquiries on thesubject which lay closest to all our hearts:

"What are they doing about exchange!"

Nothing in human experience--save the anxious expectancy of a sail bycastaways on a desert island--could equal the intense eagerness withwhich this question was asked, and the answer awaited. To thousands nowhanging on the verge of eternity it meant life or death. Between thefirst day of July and the first of November over twelve thousand mendied, who would doubtless have lived had they been able to reach ourlines--"get to God's country, " as we expressed it. 

The new comers brought little reliable news of contemplated exchange. There was none to bring in the first place, and in the next, soldiers inactive service in the field had other things to busy themselves with thanreading up the details of the negotiations between the Commissioners ofExchange. They had all heard rumors, however, and by the time theyreached Andersonville, they had crystallized these into actual statementsof fact. A half hour after they entered the Stockade, a report like thiswould spread like wildfire:

"An Army of the Potomac man has just come in, who was captured in frontof Petersburg. He says that he read in the New York Herald, the daybefore he was taken, that an exchange had been agreed upon, and that ourships had already started for Savannah to take us home. "

Then our hopes would soar up like balloons. We fed ourselves on suchstuff from day to day, and doubtless many lives were greatly prolonged bythe continual encouragement. There was hardly a day when I did not sayto myself that I would much rather die than endure imprisonment anothermonth, and had I believed that another month would see me still there, I am pretty certain that I should have ended the matter by crossing theDead Line. I was firmly resolved not to die the disgusting, agonizingdeath that so many around me were dying. 

One of our best purveyors of information was a bright, blue-eyed, fair-haired little drummer boy, as handsome as a girl, well-bred as alady, and evidently the darling of some refined loving mother. Hebelonged, I think, to some loyal Virginia regiment, was captured in oneof the actions in the Shenandoa Valley, and had been with us inRichmond. We called him "Red Cap, " from his wearing a jaunty, gold-laced, crimson cap. Ordinarily, the smaller a drummer boy is theharder he is, but no amount of attrition with rough men could coarse theingrained refinement of Red Cap's manners. He was between thirteen andfourteen, and it seemed utterly shameful that men, calling themselvessoldier should make war on such a tender boy and drag him off to prison. 

But no six-footer had a more soldierly heart than little Red Cap, andnone were more loyal to the cause. It was a pleasure to hear him tellthe story of the fights and movements his regiment had been engaged in. He was a good observer and told his tale with boyish fervor. Shortlyafter Wirz assumed command he took Red Cap into his office as an Orderly. His bright face and winning manner; fascinated the women visitors atheadquarters, and numbers of them tried to adopt him, but with poorsuccess. Like the rest of us, he could see few charms in an existenceunder the Rebel flag, and turned a deaf ear to their blandishments. He kept his ears open to the conversation of the Rebel officers aroundhim, and frequently secured permission to visit the interior of theStockade, when he would communicate to us all that he has heard. He received a flattering reception every time he cams in, and no oratorever secured a more attentive audience than would gather around him tolisten to what he had to say. He was, beyond a doubt, the best known andmost popular person in the prison, and I know all the survivors of hisold admirer; share my great interest in him, and my curiosity as towhether he yet lives, and whether his subsequent career has justified thesanguine hopes we all had as to his future. I hope that if he sees this, or any one who knows anything about him, he will communicate with me. There are thousands who will be glad to hear from him. 

A most remarkable coincidence occurred in regard to this comrade. Several days after the above had been written, and "set up, " but beforeit had yet appeared in the paper, I received the following letter:

 ECKHART MINES, Alleghany County, Md. , March 24. 

To the Editor of the BLADE:

Last evening I saw a copy of your paper, in which was a chapter or two ofa prison life of a soldier during the late war. I was forcibly struckwith the correctness of what he wrote, and the names of several of my oldcomrades which he quoted: Hill, Limber Jim, etc. , etc. I was a drummerboy of Company I, Tenth West Virginia Infantry, and was fifteen years ofage a day or two after arriving in Andersonville, which was in the lastof February, 1884. Nineteen of my comrades were there with me, and, poorfellows, they are there yet. I have no doubt that I would have remainedthere, too, had I not been more fortunate. 

I do not know who your soldier correspondent is, but assume to say thatfrom the following description he will remember having seen me inAndersonville: I was the little boy that for three or four monthsofficiated as orderly for Captain Wirz. I wore a red cap, and every daycould be seen riding Wirz's gray mare, either at headquarters, or aboutthe Stockade. I was acting in this capacity when the six raiders--"Mosby, " (proper name Collins) Delaney, Curtis, and--I forget the othernames--were executed. I believe that I was the first that conveyed theintelligence to them that Confederate General Winder had approved theirsentence. As soon as Wirz received the dispatch to that effect, I randown to the stocks and told them. 

I visited Hill, of Wauseon, Fulton County, O. , since the war, and foundhim hale and hearty. I have not heard from him for a number of yearsuntil reading your correspondent's letter last evening. It is the onlyletter of the series that I have seen, but after reading that one, I feelcalled upon to certify that I have no doubts of the truthfulness of yourcorrespondent's story. The world will never know or believe the horrorsof Andersonville and other prisons in the South. No living, human being, in my judgment, will ever be able to properly paint the horrors of thoseinfernal dens. 

I formed the acquaintance of several Ohio soldiers whilst in prison. Among these were O. D. Streeter, of Cleveland, who went to Andersonvilleabout the same time that I did, and escaped, and was the only man that Iever knew that escaped and reached our lines. After an absence ofseveral months he was retaken in one of Sherman's battles before Atlanta, and brought back. I also knew John L. Richards, of Fostoria, SenecaCounty, O. Or Eaglesville, Wood County. Also, a man by the name ofBeverly, who was a partner of Charley Aucklebv, of Tennessee. I wouldlike to hear from all of these parties. They all know me. 

Mr. Editor, I will close by wishing all my comrades who shared in thesufferings and dangers of Confederate prisons, a long and useful life. Yours truly, RANSOM T. POWELL

CHAPTER XLII. 

SOME FEATURES OF THE MORTALITY--PERCENTAGE OF DEATHS TO THOSE LIVING--AN AVERAGE MEAN ONLY STANDS THE MISERY THREE MONTHS--DESCRIPTION OF THEPRISON AND THE CONDITION OF THE MEN THEREIN, BY A LEADING SCIENTIFIC MANOF THE SOUTH. 

Speaking of the manner in which the Plymouth Pilgrims were now dying, I am reminded of my theory that the ordinary man's endurance of thisprison life did not average over three months. The Plymouth boys arrivedin May; the bulk of those who died passed away in July and August. The great increase of prisoners from all sources was in May, June andJuly. The greatest mortality among these was in August, September andOctober. 

Many came in who had been in good health during their service in thefield, but who seemed utterly overwhelmed by the appalling misery theysaw on every hand, and giving way to despondency, died in a few days orweeks. I do not mean to include them in the above class, as theirsickness was more mental than physical. My idea is that, taking onehundred ordinarily healthful young soldiers from a regiment in activeservice, and putting them into Andersonville, by the end of the thirdmonth at least thirty-three of those weakest and most vulnerable todisease would have succumbed to the exposure, the pollution of ground andair, and the insufficiency of the ration of coarse corn meal. After thisthe mortality would be somewhat less, say at the end of six months fiftyof them would be dead. The remainder would hang on still moretenaciously, and at the end of a year there would be fifteen or twentystill alive. There were sixty-three of my company taken; thirteen livedthrough. I believe this was about the usual proportion for those whowere in as long as we. In all there were forty-five thousand six hundredand thirteen prisoners brought into Andersonville. Of these twelvethousand nine hundred and twelve died there, to say nothing of thousandsthat died in other prisons in Georgia and the Carolinas, immediatelyafter their removal from Andersonville. One of every three and a-halfmen upon whom the gates of the Stockade closed never repassed them alive. Twenty-nine per cent. Of the boys who so much as set foot inAndersonville died there. Let it be kept in mind all the time, that theaverage stay of a prisoner there was not four months. The great majoritycame in after the 1st of May, and left before the middle of September. May 1, 1864, there were ten thousand four hundred and twenty-seven in theStockade. August 8 there were thirty-three thousand one hundred andfourteen; September 30 all these were dead or gone, except eight thousandtwo hundred and eighteen, of whom four thousand five hundred and ninetydied inside of the next thirty days. The records of the world can shoveno parallel to this astounding mortality. 

Since the above matter was first published in the BLADE, a friend hassent me a transcript of the evidence at the Wirz trial, of ProfessorJoseph Jones, a Surgeon of high rank in the Rebel Army, and who stood atthe head of the medical profession in Georgia. He visited Andersonvilleat the instance of the Surgeon-General of the Confederate States' Army, to make a study, for the benefit of science, of the phenomena of diseaseoccurring there. His capacity and opportunities for observation, and forclearly estimating the value of the facts coming under his notice were, of course, vastly superior to mine, and as he states the case strongerthan I dare to, for fear of being accused of exaggeration and downrightuntruth, I reproduce the major part of his testimony--embodying also hisofficial report to medical headquarters at Richmond--that my readers mayknow how the prison appeared to the eyes of one who, though a bitterRebel, was still a humane man and a conscientious observer, striving tolearn the truth:

 MEDICAL TESTIMONY. 

[Transcript from the printed testimony at the Wirz Trial, pages 618 to639, inclusive. ]

 OCTOBER 7, 1885. 

Dr. Joseph Jones, for the prosecution:

By the Judge Advocate:

Question. Where do you reside

Answer. In Augusta, Georgia. 

Q. Are you a graduate of any medical college?

A. Of the University of Pennsylvania. 

Q. How long have you been engaged in the practice of medicine?

A. Eight years. 

Q. Has your experience been as a practitioner, or rather as aninvestigator of medicine as a science?

A. Both. 

Q. What position do you hold now?

A. That of Medical Chemist in the Medical College of Georgia, atAugusta. 

Q. How long have you held your position in that college?

A. Since 1858. 

Q. How were you employed during the Rebellion?

A. I served six months in the early part of it as a private in theranks, and the rest of the time in the medical department. 

Q. Under the direction of whom?

A. Under the direction of Dr. Moore, Surgeon General. 

Q. Did you, while acting under his direction, visit Andersonville, professionally?

A. Yes, Sir. 

Q. For the purpose of making investigations there?

A. For the purpose of prosecuting investigations ordered by the SurgeonGeneral. 

Q. You went there in obedience to a letter of instructions?

A. In obedience to orders which I received. 

Q. Did you reduce the results of your investigations to the shape of areport?

A. I was engaged at that work when General Johnston surrendered hisarmy. 

(A document being handed to witness. )

Q. Have you examined this extract from your report and compared it withthe original?

A. Yes, Sir; I have. 

Q. Is it accurate?

A. So far as my examination extended, it is accurate. '

The document just examined by witness was offered in evidence, and is asfollows:

Observations upon the diseases of the Federal prisoners, confined to CampSumter, Andersonville, in Sumter County, Georgia, instituted with a viewto illustrate chiefly the origin and causes of hospital gangrene, therelations of continued and malarial fevers, and the pathology of campdiarrhea and dysentery, by Joseph Jones; Surgeon P. A. C. S. , Professorof Medical Chemistry in the Medical College of Georgia, at Augusta, Georgia. 

Hearing of the unusual mortality among the Federal prisoners confined atAndersonville; Georgia, in the month of August, 1864, during a visit toRichmond, Va. , I expressed to the Surgeon General, S. P. Moore, Confederate States of America, a desire to visit Camp Sumter, with thedesign of instituting a series of inquiries upon the nature and causes ofthe prevailing diseases. Smallpox had appeared among the prisoners, andI believed that this would prove an admirable field for the establishmentof its characteristic lesions. The condition of Peyer's glands in thisdisease was considered as worthy of minute investigation. It wasbelieved that a large body of men from the Northern portion of the UnitedStates, suddenly transported to a warm Southern climate, and confinedupon a small portion of land, would furnish an excellent field for theinvestigation of the relations of typhus, typhoid, and malarial fevers. 

The Surgeon General of the Confederate States of America furnished mewith the following letter of introduction to the Surgeon in charge of theConfederate States Military Prison at Andersonville, Ga. :

 CONFEDERATE STATES OF AMERICA, SURGEON GENERAL'S OFFICE, RICHMOND, VA. , August 6, 1864. 

SIR:--The field of pathological investigations afforded by the largecollection of Federal prisoners in Georgia, is of great extant andimportance, and it is believed that results of value to the professionmay be obtained by careful investigation of the effects of disease uponthe large body of men subjected to a decided change of climate and thosecircumstances peculiar to prison life. The Surgeon in charge of thehospital for Federal prisoners, together with his assistants, will affordevery facility to Surgeon Joseph Jones, in the prosecution of the laborsordered by the Surgeon General. Efficient assistance must be renderedSurgeon Jones by the medical officers, not only in his examinations intothe causes and symptoms of the various diseases, but especially in thearduous labors of post mortem examinations. 

The medical officers will assist in the performance of such post-mortemsas Surgeon Jones may indicate, in order that this great field forpathological investigation may be explored for the benefit of the MedicalDepartment of the Confederate Army. S. P. MOORE, Surgeon General. Surgeon ISAIAH H. WHITE, In charge of Hospital for Federal prisoners, Andersonville, Ga. 

In compliance with this letter of the Surgeon General, Isaiah H. White, Chief Surgeon of the post, and R. R. Stevenson, Surgeon in charge of thePrison Hospital, afforded the necessary facilities for the prosecution ofmy investigations among the sick outside of the Stockade. After thecompletion of my labors in the military prison hospital, the followingcommunication was addressed to Brigadier General John H. Winder, inconsequence of the refusal on the part of the commandant of the interiorof the Confederate States Military Prison to admit me within the Stockadeupon the order of the Surgeon General:

 CAMP SUMTER, ANDERSONVILLE GA. , September 16, 1864. 

GENERAL:--I respectfully request the commandant of the post ofAndersonville to grant me permission and to furnish the necessary passto visit the sick and medical officers within the Stockade of theConfederate States Prison. I desire to institute certain inquiriesordered by the Surgeon General. Surgeon Isaiah H. White, Chief Surgeonof the post, and Surgeon R. R. Stevenson, in charge of the PrisonHospital, have afforded me every facility for the prosecution of mylabors among the sick outside of the Stockade. Very respectfully, your obedient servant, JOSEPH JONES, Surgeon P. A. C. S. 

Brigadier General JOHN H. WINDER, Commandant, Post Andersonville. 

In the absence of General Winder from the post, Captain Winder furnishedthe following order:

 CAMP SUMTER, ANDERSONVILLE; September 17, 1864. 

CAPTAIN:--You will permit Surgeon Joseph Jones, who has orders from theSurgeon General, to visit the sick within the Stockade that are undermedical treatment. Surgeon Jones is ordered to make certaininvestigations which may prove useful to his profession. By direction ofGeneral Winder. Very respectfully, W. S. WINDER, A. A. G. 

Captain H. WIRZ, Commanding Prison. 

 Description of the Confederate States Military Prison Hospital at Andersonville. Number of prisoners, physical condition, food, clothing, habits, moral condition, diseases. 

The Confederate Military Prison at Andersonville, Ga. , consists of astrong Stockade, twenty feet in height, enclosing twenty-seven acres. The Stockade is formed of strong pine logs, firmly planted in the ground. The main Stockade is surrounded by two other similar rows of pine logs, the middle Stockade being sixteen feet high, and the outer twelve feet. These are intended for offense and defense. If the inner Stockade shouldat any time be forced by the prisoners, the second forms another line ofdefense; while in case of an attempt to deliver the prisoners by a forceoperating upon the exterior, the outer line forms an admirable protectionto the Confederate troops, and a most formidable obstacle to cavalry orinfantry. The four angles of the outer line are strengthened byearthworks upon commanding eminences, from which the cannon, in case ofan outbreak among the prisoners, may sweep the entire enclosure; and itwas designed to connect these works by a line of rifle pits, runningzig-zag, around the outer Stockade; those rifle pits have never beencompleted. The ground enclosed by the innermost Stockade lies in theform of a parallelogram, the larger diameter running almost due north andsouth. This space includes the northern and southern opposing sides oftwo hills, between which a stream of water runs from west to east. The surface soil of these hills is composed chiefly of sand with varyingadmixtures of clay and oxide of iron. The clay is sufficiently tenaciousto give a considerable degree of consistency to the soil. The internalstructure of the hills, as revealed by the deep wells, is similar to thatalready described. The alternate layers of clay and sand, as well as theoxide of iron, which forms in its various combinations a cement to thesand, allow of extensive tunneling. The prisoners not only constructednumerous dirt huts with balls of clay and sand, taken from the wellswhich they have excavated all over those hills, but they have also, insome cases, tunneled extensively from these wells. The lower portions ofthese hills, bordering on the stream, are wet and boggy from the constantoozing of water. The Stockade was built originally to accommodate onlyten thousand prisoners, and included at first seventeen acres. Near theclose of the month of June the area was enlarged by the addition of tenacres. The ground added was situated on the northern slope of thelargest hill. 

The average number of square feet of ground to each prisoner in August1864: 35. 7

Within the circumscribed area of the Stockade the Federal prisoners werecompelled to perform all the offices of life--cooking, washing, the callsof nature, exercise, and sleeping. During the month of March the prisonwas less crowded than at any subsequent time, and then the average spaceof ground to each prisoner was only 98. 7 feet, or less than seven squareyards. The Federal prisoners were gathered from all parts of theConfederate States east of the Mississippi, and crowded into the confinedspace, until in the month of June the average number of square feet ofground to each prisoner was only 33. 2 or less than four square yards. These figures represent the condition of the Stockade in a better lighteven than it really was; for a considerable breadth of land along thestream, flowing from west to east between the hills, was low and boggy, and was covered with the excrement of the men, and thus rendered whollyuninhabitable, and in fact useless for every purpose except that ofdefecation. The pines and other small trees and shrubs, which originallywere scattered sparsely over these hills, were in a short time cut downand consumed by the prisoners for firewood, and no shade tree was left inthe entire enclosure of the stockade. With their characteristic industryand ingenuity, the Federals constructed for themselves small huts andcaves, and attempted to shield themselves from the rain and sun and nightdamps and dew. But few tents were distributed to the prisoners, and those were in most cases torn and rotten. In the location andarrangement of these tents and huts no order appears to have beenfollowed; in fact, regular streets appear to be out of the question in socrowded an area; especially too, as large bodies of prisoners were fromtime to time added suddenly without any previous preparations. The irregular arrangement of the huts and imperfect shelters was veryunfavorable for the maintenance of a proper system of police. 

The police and internal economy of the prison was left almost entirely inthe hands of the prisoners themselves; the duties of the Confederatesoldiers acting as guards being limited to the occupation of the boxesor lookouts ranged around the stockade at regular intervals, and to themanning of the batteries at the angles of the prison. Even judicialmatters pertaining to themselves, as the detection and punishment of suchcrimes as theft and murder appear to have been in a great measureabandoned to the prisoners. A striking instance of this occurred in themonth of July, when the Federal prisoners within the Stockade tried, condemned, and hanged six (6) of their own number, who had been convictedof stealing and of robbing and murdering their fellow-prisoners. Theywere all hung upon the same day, and thousands of the prisoners gatheredaround to witness the execution. The Confederate authorities are saidnot to have interfered with these proceedings. In this collection of menfrom all parts of the world, every phase of human character wasrepresented; the stronger preyed upon the weaker, and even the sick whowere unable to defend themselves were robbed of their scanty supplies offood and clothing. Dark stories were afloat, of men, both sick and well, who were murdered at night, strangled to death by their comrades forscant supplies of clothing or money. I heard a sick and wounded Federalprisoner accuse his nurse, a fellow-prisoner of the United States Army, of having stealthily, during his sleep inoculated his wounded arm withgangrene, that he might destroy his life and fall heir to his clothing. 

 .................................... 

The large number of men confined within the Stockade soon, under adefective system of police, and with imperfect arrangements, covered thesurface of the low grounds with excrements. The sinks over the lowerportions of the stream were imperfect in their plan and structure, andthe excrements were in large measure deposited so near the borders of thestream as not to be washed away, or else accumulated upon the low boggyground. The volume of water was not sufficient to wash away the feces, and they accumulated in such quantities in the lower portion of thestream as to form a mass of liquid excrement heavy rains caused the waterof the stream to rise, and as the arrangements for the passage of theincreased amounts of water out of the Stockade were insufficient, theliquid feces overflowed the low grounds and covered them several inches, after the subsidence of the waters. The action of the sun upon thisputrefying mass of excrements and fragments of bread and meat and bonesexcited most rapid fermentation and developed a horrible stench. Improvements were projected for the removal of the filth and for theprevention of its accumulation, but they were only partially andimperfectly carried out. As the forces of the prisoners were reduced byconfinement, want of exercise, improper diet, and by scurvy, diarrhea, and dysentery, they were unable to evacuate their bowels within thestream or along its banks, and the excrements were deposited at the verydoors of their tents. The vast majority appeared to lose all repulsionto filth, and both sick and well disregarded all the laws of hygiene andpersonal cleanliness. The accommodations for the sick were imperfect andinsufficient. From the organization of the prison, February 24, 1864, toMay 22, the sick were treated within the Stockade. In the crowdedcondition of the Stockade, and with the tents and huts clustered thicklyaround the hospital, it was impossible to secure proper ventilation or tomaintain the necessary police. The Federal prisoners also made frequentforays upon the hospital stores and carried off the food and clothing ofthe sick. The hospital was, on the 22d of May, removed to its presentsite without the Stockade, and five acres of ground covered with oaks andpines appropriated to the use of the sick. 

The supply of medical officers has been insufficient from the foundationof the prison. 

The nurses and attendants upon the sick have been most generally Federalprisoners, who in too many cases appear to have been devoid of moralprinciple, and who not only neglected their duties, but were also engagedin extensive robbing of the sick. 

From the want of proper police and hygienic regulations alone it is notwonderful that from February 24 to September 21, 1864, nine thousand fourhundred and seventy-nine deaths, nearly one-third the entire number ofprisoners, should have been recorded. I found the Stockade and hospitalin the following condition during my pathological investigations, instituted in the month of September, 1864:

 STOCKADE, CONFEDERATE STATES MILITARY PRISON. 

At the time of my visit to Andersonville a large number of Federalprisoners had been removed to Millen, Savannah; Charleston, and otherparts of, the Confederacy, in anticipation of an advance of GeneralSherman's forces from Atlanta, with the design of liberating theircaptive brethren; however, about fifteen thousand prisoners remainedconfined within the limits of the Stockade and Confederate StatesMilitary Prison Hospital. 

In the Stockade, with the exception of the damp lowlands bordering thesmall stream, the surface was covered with huts, and small ragged tentsand parts of blankets and fragments of oil-cloth, coats, and blanketsstretched upon stacks. The tents and huts were not arranged according toany order, and there was in most parts of the enclosure scarcely room fortwo men to walk abreast between the tents and huts. 

If one might judge from the large pieces of corn-bread scattered about inevery direction on the ground the prisoners were either very lavishlysupplied with this article of diet, or else this kind of food was notrelished by them. 

Each day the dead from the Stockade were carried out by theirfellow-prisoners and deposited upon the ground under a bush arbor, justoutside of the Southwestern Gate. From thence they were carried incarts to the burying ground, one-quarter of a mile northwest, of thePrison. The dead were buried without coffins, side by side, in trenchesfour feet deep. 

The low grounds bordering the stream were covered with human excrementsand filth of all kinds, which in many places appeared to be alive withworking maggots. An indescribable sickening stench arose from thesefermenting masses of human filth. 

There were near five thousand seriously ill Federals in the Stockade andConfederate States Military Prison Hospital, and the deaths exceeded onehundred per day, and large numbers of the prisoners who were walkingabout, and who had not been entered upon the sick reports, were sufferingfrom severe and incurable diarrhea, dysentery, and scurvy. The sick wereattended almost entirely by their fellow-prisoners, appointed as nurses, and as they received but little attention, they were compelled to exertthemselves at all times to attend to the calls of nature, and hence theyretained the power of moving about to within a comparatively short periodof the close of life. Owing to the slow progress of the diseases mostprevalent, diarrhea, and chronic dysentery, the corpses were as a generalrule emaciated. 

I visited two thousand sick within the Stockade, lying under some longsheds which had been built at the northern portion for themselves. Atthis time only one medical officer was in attendance, whereas at leasttwenty medical officers should have been employed. 

Died in the Stockade from its organization, February 24, 186l toSeptember 2l .................................................... 3, 254Died in Hospital during same time ............................... 6, 225

Total deaths in Hospital and Stockade ........................... 9, 479

Scurvy, diarrhea, dysentery, and hospital gangrene were the prevailingdiseases. I was surprised to find but few cases of malarial fever, andno well-marked cases either of typhus or typhoid fever. The absence ofthe different forms of malarial fever may be accounted for in thesupposition that the artificial atmosphere of the Stockade, crowdeddensely with human beings and loaded with animal exhalations, was unfavorable to the existence and action of the malarial poison. The absence of typhoid and typhus fevers amongst all the causes which aresupposed to generate these diseases, appeared to be due to the fact thatthe great majority of these prisoners had been in captivity in Virginia, at Belle Island, and in other parts of the Confederacy for months, andeven as long as two years, and during this time they had been subjectedto the same bad influences, and those who had not had these fevers beforeeither had them during their confinement in Confederate prisons or elsetheir systems, from long exposure, were proof against their action. 

The effects of scurvy were manifested on every hand, and in all itsvarious stages, from the muddy, pale complexion, pale gums, feeble, languid muscular motions, lowness of spirits, and fetid breath, to thedusky, dirty, leaden complexion, swollen features, spongy, purple, livid, fungoid, bleeding gums, loose teeth, oedematous limbs, covered with lividvibices, and petechiae spasmodically flexed, painful and hardenedextremities, spontaneous hemorrhages from mucous canals, and large, ill-conditioned, spreading ulcers covered with a dark purplish fungusgrowth. I observed that in some of the cases of scurvy the parotidglands were greatly swollen, and in some instances to such an extent asto preclude entirely the power to articulate. In several cases ofdropsy of the abdomen and lower extremities supervening upon scurvy, thepatients affirmed that previously to the appearance of the dropsy theyhad suffered with profuse and obstinate diarrhea, and that when this waschecked by a change of diet, from Indian corn-bread baked with the husk, to boiled rice, the dropsy appeared. The severe pains and livid patcheswere frequently associated with swellings in various parts, andespecially in the lower extremities, accompanied with stiffness andcontractions of the knee joints and ankles, and often with a brawny feelof the parts, as if lymph had been effused between the integuments andapeneuroses, preventing the motion of the skin over the swollen parts. Many of the prisoners believed that the scurvy was contagious, and I sawmen guarding their wells and springs, fearing lest some man sufferingwith the scurvy might use the water and thus poison them. 

I observed also numerous cases of hospital gangrene, and of spreadingscorbutic ulcers, which had supervened upon slight injuries. Thescorbutic ulcers presented a dark, purple fungoid, elevated surface, withlivid swollen edges, and exuded a thin; fetid, sanious fluid, instead ofpus. Many ulcers which originated from the scorbutic condition of thesystem appeared to become truly gangrenous, assuming all thecharacteristics of hospital gangrene. From the crowded condition, filthyhabits, bad diet, and dejected, depressed condition of the prisoners, their systems had become so disordered that the smallest abrasion of theskin, from the rubbing of a shoe, or from the effects of the sun, or fromthe prick of a splinter, or from scratching, or a musketo bite, in somecases, took on rapid and frightful ulceration and gangrene. The long useof salt meat, ofttimes imperfectly cured, as well as the most totaldeprivation of vegetables and fruit, appeared to be the chief causes ofthe scurvy. I carefully examined the bakery and the bread furnished theprisoners, and found that they were supplied almost entirely withcorn-bread from which the husk had not been separated. This husk actedas an irritant to the alimentary canal, without adding any nutriment tothe bread. As far as my examination extended no fault could be foundwith the mode in which the bread was baked; the difficulty lay in thefailure to separate the husk from the corn-meal. I strongly urged thepreparation of large quantities of soup made from the cow and calves'heads with the brains and tongues, to which a liberal supply of sweetpotatos and vegetables might have been advantageously added. Thematerial existed in abundance for the preparation of such soup in largequantities with but little additional expense. Such aliment would havebeen not only highly nutritious, but it would also have acted as anefficient remedial agent for the removal of the scorbutic condition. Thesick within the Stockade lay under several long sheds which wereoriginally built for barracks. These sheds covered two floors whichwere open on all sides. The sick lay upon the bare boards, or upon suchragged blankets as they possessed, without, as far as I observed, anybedding or even straw. 

 ............................ 

The haggard, distressed countenances of these miserable, complaining, dejected, living skeletons, crying for medical aid and food, and cursingtheir Government for its refusal to exchange prisoners, and the ghastlycorpses, with their glazed eye balls staring up into vacant space, withthe flies swarming down their open and grinning mouths, and over theirragged clothes, infested with numerous lice, as they lay amongst the sickand dying, formed a picture of helpless, hopeless misery which it wouldbe impossible to portray bywords or by the brush. A feeling ofdisappointment and even resentment on account of the United StatesGovernment upon the subject of the exchange of prisoners, appeared to bewidespread, and the apparent hopeless nature of the negotiations for somegeneral exchange of prisoners appeared to be a cause of universal regretand deep and injurious despondency. I heard some of the prisoners go sofar as to exonerate the Confederate Government from any charge ofintentionally subjecting them to a protracted confinement, with itsnecessary and unavoidable sufferings, in a country cut off from allintercourse with foreign nations, and sorely pressed on all sides, whilston the other hand they charged their prolonged captivity upon their ownGovernment, which was attempting to make the negro equal to the whiteman. Some hundred or more of the prisoners had been released fromconfinement in the Stockade on parole, and filled various offices asclerks, druggists, and carpenters, etc. , in the various departments. These men were well clothed, and presented a stout and healthyappearance, and as a general rule they presented a much more robust andhealthy appearance than the Confederate troops guarding the prisoners. 

The entire grounds are surrounded by a frail board fence, and arestrictly guarded by Confederate soldiers, and no prisoner except theparoled attendants is allowed to leave the grounds except by a specialpermit from the Commandant of the Interior of the Prison. 

The patients and attendants, near two thousand in number, are crowdedinto this confined space and are but poorly supplied with old and raggedtents. Large numbers of them were without any bunks in the tents, andlay upon the ground, oft-times without even a blanket. No beds or strawappeared to have been furnished. The tents extend to within a few yardsof the small stream, the eastern portion of which, as we have beforesaid, is used as a privy and is loaded with excrements; and I observed alarge pile of corn-bread, bones, and filth of all kinds, thirty feet indiameter and several feet in hight, swarming with myriads of flies, in avacant space near the pots used for cooking. Millions of flies swarmedover everything, and covered the faces of the sleeping patients, andcrawled down their open mouths, and deposited their maggots in thegangrenous wounds of the living, and in the mouths of the dead. Musketosin great numbers also infested the tents, and many of the patients wereso stung by these pestiferous insects, that they resembled thosesuffering from a slight attack of the measles. 

The police and hygiene of the hospital were defective in the extreme;the attendants, who appeared in almost every instance to have beenselected from the prisoners, seemed to have in many cases but littleinterest in the welfare of their fellow-captives. The accusation wasmade that the nurses in many cases robbed the sick of their clothing, money, and rations, and carried on a clandestine trade with the paroledprisoners and Confederate guards without the hospital enclosure, in theclothing, effects of the sick, dying, and dead Federals. They certainlyappeared to neglect the comfort and cleanliness of the sick intrusted totheir care in a most shameful manner, even after making due allowancesfor the difficulties of the situation. Many of the sick were literallyencrusted with dirt and filth and covered with vermin. When a gangrenouswound needed washing, the limb was thrust out a little from the blanket, or board, or rags upon which the patient was lying, and water poured overit, and all the putrescent matter allowed to soak into the ground floorof the tent. The supply of rags for dressing wounds was said to be veryscant, and I saw the most filthy rags which had been applied severaltimes, and imperfectly washed, used in dressing wounds. Where hospitalgangrene was prevailing, it was impossible for any wound to escapecontagion under these circumstances. The results of the treatment ofwounds in the hospital were of the most unsatisfactory character, fromthis neglect of cleanliness, in the dressings and wounds themselves, aswell as from various other causes which will be more fully considered. I saw several gangrenous wounds filled with maggots. I have frequentlyseen neglected wounds amongst the Confederate soldiers similarlyaffected; and as far as my experience extends, these worms destroy onlythe dead tissues and do not injure specially the well parts. I have evenheard surgeons affirm that a gangrenous wound which had been thoroughlycleansed by maggots, healed more rapidly than if it had been left toitself. This want of cleanliness on the part of the nurses appeared tobe the result of carelessness and inattention, rather than of malignantdesign, and the whole trouble can be traced to the want of the properpolice and sanitary regulations, and to the absence of intelligentorganization and division of labor. The abuses were in a large measuredue to the almost total absence of system, government, and rigid, butwholesome sanitary regulations. In extenuation of these abuses it wasalleged by the medical officers that the Confederate troops were barelysufficient to guard the prisoners, and that it was impossible to obtainany number of experienced nurses from the Confederate forces. In factthe guard appeared to be too small, even for the regulation of theinternal hygiene and police of the hospital. 

The manner of disposing of the dead was also calculated to depress thealready desponding spirits of these men, many of whom have been confinedfor months, and even for nearly two years in Richmond and other places, and whose strength had been wasted by bad air, bad food, and neglect ofpersonal cleanliness. The dead-house is merely a frame covered with oldtent cloth and a few bushes, situated in the southwestern corner of thehospital grounds. When a patient dies, he is simply laid in the narrowstreet in front of his tent, until he is removed by Federal negrosdetailed to carry off the dead; if a patient dies during the night, helies there until the morning, and during the day even the dead werefrequently allowed to remain for hours in these walks. In the dead-housethe corpses lie upon the bare ground, and were in most cases covered withfilth and vermin. 

 ............................ 

The cooking arrangements are of the most defective character. Five largeiron pots similar to those used for boiling sugar cane, appeared to bethe only cooking utensils furnished by the hospital for the cooking ofnearly two thousand men; and the patients were dependent in great measureupon their own miserable utensils. They were allowed to cook in the tentdoors and in the lanes, and this was another source of filth, and anotherfavorable condition for the generation and multiplication of flies andother vermin. 

The air of the tents was foul and disagreeable in the extreme, and infact the entire grounds emitted a most nauseous and disgusting smell. I entered nearly all the tents and carefully examined the cases ofinterest, and especially the cases of gangrene, upon numerous occasions, during the prosecution of my pathological inquiries at Andersonville, andtherefore enjoyed every opportunity to judge correctly of the hygiene andpolice of the hospital. 

There appeared to be almost absolute indifference and neglect on the partof the patients of personal cleanliness; their persons and clothinginmost instances, and especially of those suffering with gangrene andscorbutic ulcers, were filthy in the extreme and covered with vermin. It was too often the case that patients were received from the Stockadein a most deplorable condition. I have seen men brought in from theStockade in a dying condition, begrimed from head to foot with their ownexcrements, and so black from smoke and filth that they, resembled negrosrather than white men. That this description of the Stockade andhospital has not been overdrawn, will appear from the reports of thesurgeons in charge, appended to this report. 

 ......................... 

We will examine first the consolidated report of the sick and woundedFederal prisoners. During six months, from the 1st of March to the 31stof August, forty-two thousand six hundred and eighty-six cases ofdiseases and wounds were reported. No classified record of the sick inthe Stockade was kept after the establishment of the hospital without thePrison. This fact, in conjunction with those already presented relatingto the insufficiency of medical officers and the extreme illness and evendeath of many prisoners in the tents in the Stockade, without any medicalattention or record beyond the bare number of the dead, demonstrate thatthese figures, large as they, appear to be, are far below the truth. 

As the number of prisoners varied greatly at different periods, therelations between those reported sick and well, as far as thosestatistics extend, can best be determined by a comparison of thestatistics of each month. 

During this period of six months no less than five hundred and sixty-fivedeaths are recorded under the head of 'morbi vanie. ' In other words, those men died without having received sufficient medical attention forthe determination of even the name of the disease causing death. 

During the month of August fifty-three cases and fifty-three deaths arerecorded as due to marasmus. Surely this large number of deaths musthave been due to some other morbid state than slow wasting. If they weredue to improper and insufficient food, they should have been classedaccordingly, and if to diarrhea or dysentery or scurvy, theclassification should in like manner have been explicit. 

We observe a progressive increase of the rate of mortality, from 3. 11 percent. In March to 9. 09 per cent. Of mean strength, sick and well, inAugust. The ratio of mortality continued to increase during September, for notwithstanding the removal of one-half of the entire number ofprisoners during the early portion of the month, one thousand sevenhundred and sixty-seven (1, 767) deaths are registered from September 1 to21, and the largest number of deaths upon any one day occurred duringthis month, on the 16th, viz. One hundred and nineteen. 

The entire number of Federal prisoners confined at Andersonville wasabout forty thousand six hundred and eleven; and during the period ofnear seven months, from February 24 to September 21, nine thousand fourhundred and seventy-nine (9, 479) deaths were recorded; that is, duringthis period near one-fourth, or more, exactly one in 4. 2, or 13. 3 percent. , terminated fatally. This increase of mortality was due in greatmeasure to the accumulation of the sources of disease, as the increase ofexcrements and filth of all kinds, and the concentration of noxiouseffluvia, and also to the progressive effects of salt diet, crowding, andthe hot climate. 

 CONCLUSIONS. 

1st. The great mortality among the Federal prisoners confined in themilitary prison at Andersonville was not referable to climatic causes, orto the nature of the soil and waters. 

2d. The chief causes of death were scurvy and its results and bowelaffections-chronic and acute diarrhea and dysentery. The bowelaffections appear to have been due to the diet, the habits of thepatients, the depressed, dejected state of the nervous system and moraland intellectual powers, and to the effluvia arising from the decomposinganimal and vegetable filth. The effects of salt meat, and an unvaryingdiet of cornmeal, with but few vegetables, and imperfect supplies ofvinegar and syrup, were manifested in the great prevalence of scurvy. This disease, without doubt, was also influenced to an important extentin its origin and course by the foul animal emanations. 

3d. From the sameness of the food and form, the action of the poisonousgases in the densely crowded and filthy Stockade and hospital, the bloodwas altered in its constitution, even before the manifestation of actualdisease. In both the well and the sick the red corpuscles werediminished; and in all diseases uncomplicated with inflammation, the fibrous element was deficient. In cases of ulceration of the mucousmembrane of the intestinal canal, the fibrous element of the blood wasincreased; while in simple diarrhea, uncomplicated with ulceration, it was either diminished or else remained stationary. Heart clots werevery common, if not universally present, in cases of ulceration of theintestinal mucous membrane, while in the uncomplicated cases of diarrheaand scurvy, the blood was fluid and did not coagulate readily, and theheart clots and fibrous concretions were almost universally absent. From the watery condition of the blood, there resulted various serouseffusions into the pericardium, ventricles of the brain, and into theabdomen. In almost all the cases which I examined after death, even themost emaciated, there was more or less serous effusion into the abdominalcavity. In cases of hospital gangrene of the extremities, and in casesof gangrene of the intestines, heart clots and fibrous coagula wereuniversally present. The presence of those clots in the cases ofhospital gangrene, while they were absent in the cases in which there wasno inflammatory symptoms, sustains the conclusion that hospital gangreneis a species of inflammation, imperfect and irregular though it may be inits progress, in which the fibrous element and coagulation of the bloodare increased, even in those who are suffering from such a condition ofthe blood, and from such diseases as are naturally accompanied with adecrease in the fibrous constituent. 

4th. The fact that hospital Gangrene appeared in the Stockade first, andoriginated spontaneously without any previous contagion, and occurredsporadically all over the Stockade and prison hospital, was proofpositive that this disease will arise whenever the conditions ofcrowding, filth, foul air, and bad diet are present. The exhalationsfrom the hospital and Stockade appeared to exert their effects to aconsiderable distance outside of these localities. The origin ofhospital gangrene among these prisoners appeared clearly to depend ingreat measure upon the state of the general system induced by diet, andvarious external noxious influences. The rapidity of the appearance andaction of the gangrene depended upon the powers and state of theconstitution, as well as upon the intensity of the poison in theatmosphere, or upon the direct application of poisonous matter to thewounded surface. This was further illustrated by the important fact thathospital gangrene, or a disease resembling it in all essential respects, attacked the intestinal canal of patients laboring under ulceration ofthe bowels, although there were no local manifestations of gangrene uponthe surface of the body. This mode of termination in cases of dysenterywas quite common in the foul atmosphere of the Confederate StatesMilitary Hospital, in the depressed, depraved condition of the system ofthese Federal prisoners. 

5th. A scorbutic condition of the system appeared to favor the origin offoul ulcers, which frequently took on true hospital gangrene. Scurvy andhospital gangrene frequently existed in the same individual. In suchcases, vegetable diet, with vegetable acids, would remove the scorbuticcondition without curing the hospital gangrene. From the results of theexisting war for the establishment of the independence of the ConfederateStates, as well as from the published observations of Dr. Trotter, SirGilbert Blane, and others of the English navy and army, it is evidentthat the scorbutic condition of the system, especially in crowded shipsand camps, is most favorable to the origin and spread of foul ulcers andhospital gangrene. As in the present case of Andersonville, so also inpast times when medical hygiene was almost entirely neglected, those twodiseases were almost universally associated in crowded ships. In manycases it was very difficult to decide at first whether the ulcer was asimple result of scurvy or of the action of the prison or hospitalgangrene, for there was great similarity in the appearance of the ulcersin the two diseases. So commonly have those two diseases been combinedin their origin and action, that the description of scorbutic ulcers, bymany authors, evidently includes also many of the prominentcharacteristics of hospital gangrene. This will be rendered evident byan examination of the observations of Dr. Lind and Sir Gilbert Blane uponscorbutic ulcers. 

6th. Gangrenous spots followed by rapid destruction of tissue appearedin some cases where there had been no known wound. Without suchwell-established facts, it might be assumed that the disease waspropagated from one patient to another. In such a filthy and crowdedhospital as that of the Confederate States Military Prison atAndersonville, it was impossible to isolate the wounded from the sourcesof actual contact of the gangrenous matter. The flies swarming over thewounds and over filth of every kind, the filthy, imperfectly washed andscanty supplies of rags, and the limited supply of washing utensils, thesame wash-bowl serving for scores of patients, were sources of suchconstant circulation of the gangrenous matter that the disease mightrapidly spread from a single gangrenous wound. The fact already stated, that a form of moist gangrene, resembling hospital gangrene, was quitecommon in this foul atmosphere, in cases of dysentery, both with andwithout the existence of the disease upon the entire surface, not onlydemonstrates the dependence of the disease upon the state of theconstitution, but proves in the clearest manner that neither the contactof the poisonous matter of gangrene, nor the direct action of thepoisonous atmosphere upon the ulcerated surfaces is necessary to thedevelopment of the disease. 

7th. In this foul atmosphere amputation did not arrest hospitalgangrene; the disease almost invariably returned. Almost everyamputation was followed finally by death, either from the effects ofgangrene or from the prevailing diarrhea and dysentery. Nitric acid andescharotics generally in this crowded atmosphere, loaded with noxiouseffluvia, exerted only temporary effects; after their application to thediseased surfaces, the gangrene would frequently return with redoubledenergy; and even after the gangrene had been completely removed by localand constitutional treatment, it would frequently return and destroy thepatient. As far as my observation extended, very few of the cases ofamputation for gangrene recovered. The progress of these cases wasfrequently very deceptive. I have observed after death the mostextensive disorganization of the structures of the stump, when duringlife there was but little swelling of the part, and the patient wasapparently doing well. I endeavored to impress upon the medical officersthe view that in this disease treatment was almost useless, without anabundant supply of pure, fresh air, nutritious food, and tonics andstimulants. Such changes, however, as would allow of the isolation ofthe cases of hospital gangrene appeared to be out of the power of themedical officers. 

8th. The gangrenous mass was without true pus, and consisted chiefly ofbroken-down, disorganized structures. The reaction of the gangrenousmatter in certain stages was alkaline. 

9th. The best, and in truth the only means of protecting large armiesand navies, as well as prisoners, from the ravages of hospital gangrene, is to furnish liberal supplies of well-cured meat, together with freshbeef and vegetables, and to enforce a rigid system of hygiene. 

10th. Finally, this gigantic mass of human misery calls loudly forrelief, not only for the sake of suffering humanity, but also on accountof our own brave soldiers now captives in the hands of the FederalGovernment. Strict justice to the gallant men of the Confederate Armies, who have been or who may be, so unfortunate as to be compelled tosurrender in battle, demands that the Confederate Government should adoptthat course which will best secure their health and comfort in captivity;or at least leave their enemies without a shadow of an excuse for anyviolation of the rules of civilized warfare in the treatment ofprisoners. 

 [End of the Witness's Testimony. ]

The variation--from month to month--of the proportion of deaths to thewhole number living is singular and interesting. It supports the theoryI have advanced above, as the following facts, taken from the officialreport, will show: In April one in every sixteen died. In May one in every twenty-six died. In June one in every twenty-two died. In July one in every eighteen died. In August one in every eleven died. In September one in every three died. In October one in every two died. In November one in every three died. 

Does the reader fully understand that in September one-third of those inthe pen died, that in October one-half of the remainder perished, and inNovember one-third of those who still survived, died? Let him pause fora moment and read this over carefully again; because its startlingmagnitude will hardly dawn upon him at first reading. It is true thatthe fearfully disproportionate mortality of those months was largely dueto the fact that it was mostly the sick that remained behind, but eventhis diminishes but little the frightfulness of the showing. Did any oneever hear of an epidemic so fatal that one-third of those attacked by itin one month died; one-half of the remnant the next month, and one-thirdof the feeble remainder the next month? If he did, his reading has beenmuch more extensive than mine. 

The greatest number of deaths in one day is reported to have occurred onthe 23d of August, when one hundred and twenty-seven died, or one manevery eleven minutes. 

The greatest number of prisoners in the Stockade is stated to have beenAugust 8, when there were thirty-three thousand one hundred and fourteen. 

I have always imagined both these statements to be short of the truth, because my remembrance is that one day in August I counted over twohundred dead lying in a row. As for the greatest number of prisoners, I remember quite distinctly standing by the ration wagon during the wholetime of the delivery of rations, to see how many prisoners there reallywere inside. That day the One Hundred and Thirty-Third Detachment wascalled, and its Sergeant came up and drew rations for a full detachment. All the other detachments were habitually kept full by replacing thosewho died with new comers. As each detachment consisted of two hundredand seventy men, one hundred and thirty-three detachments would makethirty-five thousand nine hundred and ten, exclusive of those in thehospital, and those detailed outside as cooks, clerks, hospitalattendants and various other employments--say from one to two thousandmore.