In and Out of Rebel Prisons Part 16
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Citizens gathered upon the flat roofs of their dwellings and watched the conflict, between the Charleston firemen on one side, and the crackling flames and General Gilmore's batteries on Morris Island, on the other.
I saw a man and woman upon their roof near the burning building, and when the sh.e.l.ls began to drop in pretty thick and fast, and some of them most uncomfortably near to where they stood, the gentleman seemed to suddenly think of some duty he was obliged to attend to below, while the lady pluckily staid it out. The wonderful accuracy with which General Gilmore sent those immense projectiles into any part of the city, from his batteries on Morris Island, five miles away, was simply astonis.h.i.+ng. He seemed to be able to drop them just where he pleased and there was no time, day or night, when the citizens of that doomed city had not good reason to expect that they might receive one of Gilmore's compliments, as we used to call them. While we were waiting in the Broad Street House for the order to start for Columbia, after we had got all packed up, the officers commenced writing their names on the wall near where they had slept, and being in rather a poetical mood just then, I took my pencil and wrote on the wall in the corner where my quarters had been, the following:
I have slept in this corner for many a night, A prisoner of war in a pitiful plight, I have ate my corn dodger, my bacon and rice, And have skirmished my s.h.i.+rt and my drawers for lice.
Here's health to Jeff Davis and bad may it be, May mercy and pardon afar from him flee, May he find, when too late, to his sorrow and cost, That not only the Confederacy, but Heaven he's lost.
CHAPTER XXIX.
EXCHANGE ON THE BRAIN.
Many of the prisoners were afflicted to a greater or less extent, with what was termed exchange on the brain.
This disease would manifest itself in various ways, and different persons would be differently affected by it.
I remember numerous cases of this malady, (for it really was a malady) in the different prisons. Persons thus afflicted, would improve every opportunity to inform themselves of the prospects of there being an exchange of prisoners, and every paper they got hold of would be carefully scanned for exchange news, and whenever they came across an article on this subject ever so vague and unsatisfactory, they would pore over it, and try to construe it as an evidence that an exchange would soon take place.
If papers were not to be had they would stroll around the camp, stopping to talk with any one that could be induced to listen to them, about what they had heard on this subject, and try to hear something that they could console themselves with, and in their perambulations about the grounds, their whole and only theme was "Exchange." Should those they met commence talking upon any other subject, they were uninterested and would, as soon as possible, change the subject to the prospects for exchange.
The first question they would ask upon meeting an acquaintance would be, "Do you hear anything about exchange?" Should they find two or three officers talking together, especially if they seemed to be talking rather earnestly, they would get up near enough to find out whether the subject under discussion was exchange.
It was the subject of all their thoughts and conversation by day, and of their dreams by night.
The most improbable rumors would be started in camp in regard to exchange, just to play upon the credulity of those who were afflicted with exchange on the brain, and they would believe them too, and would excitedly circulate the rumors.
One officer in Savannah, Captain Johnson, was afflicted badly with this malady, and could never see two or three officers together talking, without trying to ascertain if there was anything being said about exchange. We used to play upon his credulity to an extent that was really cruel.
While at Savannah, Col. F. C. Miller, 147th N. Y., was detailed as senior officer of the camp, and all communications to the commandant of the prison had to be forwarded through him, and all orders from the commandant to us were received through him.
Being very intimate with Col. Miller, I was supposed, next to him, to be the most probable one to know what was going on. The Colonel had made a backgammon board, and we used to sit in his tent and play a good deal of the time.
Captain Johnson and I both belonged to the same squad, which was designated as No. 9. One evening, I had been up to Colonel Miller's tent until quite late, and when I returned, the squad had all retired. As I came to my tent, which was just opposite Capt. Johnson's, I said to my tent-mates somewhat excitedly, and in a tone loud enough for Johnson to hear: "Well, boys, I have now got some news that is reliable. I just came from Col. Miller's tent, and the Colonel told me that Col. Smith told him--" here I dropped my voice so that Johnson could not hear. In a second Johnson jumped out of bed and came across the street, minus everything but his night clothes, and asked excitedly: "What did Col. Miller tell you?"
"Well," said I, "Col. Miller told me that No. 9 squad would be detailed to police the camp to-morrow."
Johnson, without saying a word, returned to his bunk amid the roars of laughter from the whole squad. I know it was cruel, to laugh at, and play jokes upon men who were half insane upon the subject. There were those who were clearly insane upon the subject of exchange, and were really to be pitied.
A Captain, whose name I have forgotten, became perfectly insane while we were at Savannah, and I think he died while in prison. At first those who noticed his peculiar actions thought he was playing a dodge to get paroled and sent North, but we were all soon convinced that the poor fellow had brooded over his imprisonment until his mind had completely lost its balance.
His mind seemed to be continually dwelling upon exchange, and for days and weeks he could not be induced to talk upon an other subject. He would tell the most improbable stories, that no one else had heard, about a general exchange of prisoners that was soon to take place, but as such stories were continually floating around the camp, not much attention was paid to him, and if any one thought upon them at all, they looked upon his stories as silly canards, gotten up to fool some one with.
His mind finally seemed to run to sumptuous dinners, and he would invite eight or ten of his prison companions to dine with him at a certain hour, and upon their arrival, they would find perhaps a half baked corn meal pome, that had been cooked in a dirty old wash basin, over a smoky fire, having been mixed up without salt or rising of any kind, to be the princely spread he had invited them to.
He would do the honors in a courteous and dignified manner and seem to think he was at home entertaining some distinguished guests in a royal manner, to a regal feast.
Of course his comrades would excuse themselves on one pretext and another, and would leave him to enjoy his dinner alone.
He would eat his pome with all the apparent relish, with which he would have partaken of a dinner such as he seemed to imagine he was indulging in.
Of course, in its half-cooked condition, it would be not only perfectly unpalatable, but injurious to the health as well. When it is remembered that rumors of exchange were being almost weekly circulated through our camp, sometimes by the reb authorities in order to keep us from trying to escape, and sometimes I believe for very cussedness, the only wonder is that the majority of the prisoners were not driven to insanity. I have seen men sit moping for hours with a look of utter dejection, their elbow upon their knee, and their chin resting upon their hand, their eyes having a vacant far-away look, brooding over the cruel fate that placed them in the prison pen, and wondering why an exchange of prisoners was not made, and whether they would ever be released.
On the 21st of June, 1864, a Catholic priest came into the prison at Macon, and gave us such a harrowing picture of Andersonville, which place he had visited the day before, that it made our own sufferings seem insignificant.
He said that he pa.s.sed up between two lines of Union dead, who had been laid there that morning by their comrades to be carted off to the burying ground, that must have numbered at least a hundred, and that he saw thousands there that were scarcely able to walk, or in many cases even to sit up.
Some to whom he administered the last rites of the Catholic church, showed by the gla.s.sy expression of their l.u.s.terless eyes, that the grim visitor already held them within his grasp.
The picture he drew of the sufferings, starvation and death he had witnessed there, sent a chill of horror to the heart of his listeners, and created a feeling of indignation that could scarcely find expression in words.
The next day, upon the advice and recommendation of the Confederate authorities, two from each squad met in the large hall that was used for the field officers, and also as a sort of hospital, and drew up a pet.i.tion to the Rebel Secretary of War, for permission for Majors Marshal, Beatie and Owen of the army, and Lieutenant Alexander, of the navy, to go to Andersonville and examine into the condition of the enlisted men and then proceed to Was.h.i.+ngton and urge upon the United States government a speedy exchange of prisoners.
When it became known throughout the camp that such a scheme was on foot and that the pet.i.tion had been signed by this self-const.i.tuted delegation and was about to be forwarded to Richmond, an indignation meeting was held from the steps of this building, and was addressed by Captain Ives and others, and the action of the Committee was denounced, as not being in accordance with the sentiment of the prison camp.
The almost unanimous sense of the meeting was, that we had faith in our government and believed it was doing all it could do, consistent with its dignity to relieve and release us, and that we would rather suffer the tortures of prison life, than to hara.s.s our government and thereby give aid and comfort to their enemy. The meeting closed by our a.s.serting our confidence in the wisdom and ability of our friends at the North, to do what was for the best interests of the country, and that if we could do more or better service for the country in prison than in the field, as good soldiers and true patriots it was our duty to submit to all the indignities that were being heaped upon us, rather than even impliedly stigmatize the U. S. government as being unmindful of our sufferings, and screen the fiendish brutes who were heaping all of this suffering upon us.
While the meeting was in progress the pet.i.tion was secretly taken out of camp by a rebel officer, who had instigated their preparation, and as we supposed, forwarded through to rebel Capt. Gibbs to Richmond. We never heard anything from the pet.i.tion, and the belief was that the rebel authorities, seeing the indignation they had caused, concluded their interests would not be advanced by complying with its provisions.
To show how the large majority of officers confined in Macon felt about how the affairs of the government had been conducted under the administration of President Lincoln, I quote from my diary of June 7th, 1864:
"This being the day upon which the Convention is to meet at Baltimore to nominate a candidate for President, our camp went into convention and nominated Abraham Lincoln by a vote of 533 out of a total vote cast of 625."
This was considered not only an endors.e.m.e.nt of the policy pursued by the President in the prosecution of the war, but also our approval of his exchange policy.
We well understood that the cartel was suspended, because the South refused to exchange the negroes taken in arms, but proposed to return such soldiers to servitude, and we believed that as they were taken while bearing arms in defence of the government, that government was in duty bound to protect them in their rights and it was our duty as good soldiers to suffer and even die, if need be, in prison or in field, to maintain the dignity of the nation.
This is why such indignation was manifested when we were asked to lend ourselves to the scheme of Jeff. Davis, to even impliedly stigmatize the authorities at Was.h.i.+ngton, as being derelict in their duties towards us, by demanding an immediate resumption of the exchange cartel, unless all who wore the blue could be cla.s.sed in the category of United States soldiers. We believed that all whose loyalty to the flag, had led them to risk their lives in its defence, whether their skin was white or black, were ent.i.tled to protection beneath its folds.
While on the tramp with Captain Alban through the Confederacy, after our escape, he told me an amusing story about his capture at Chicamauga. He belonged to the 21st Ohio, and that regiment was armed with the Henry rifle.
The portion of the line occupied by the 21st Ohio, was a.s.saulted with determined gallantry six or seven times, and was every time repulsed with heavy loss.
The Johnnies would charge with an impetuosity that was wonderful, and would advance until they received the sixth or seventh discharge from those repeating rifles, which shoot sixteen times without reloading, when they would break and fly in disorder; receiving as they went back two or three more shots, before they would be out of range. They would again be re-formed and make another gallant a.s.sault, only to again be broken and driven back with fearful slaughter.
After having charged, as I have said, six or seven times, and each time been repulsed with great loss, Captain Alban was taken prisoner and hurried to the Confederate rear. One of the privates was taken at the same time, and his rifle which he had just emptied, was examined with much curiosity by the reb who had taken him, who, after looking it over thoroughly, turned to Alban and said, "What kind of guns do youens use!
You load up Sat.u.r.day night and shoot all the week, don't you?" After having learned how to handle it he thought it would be a good one for him, but as the soldier had exhausted his supply of ammunition, the piece would be useless until they could get some to fit it.
CHAPTER x.x.x.
SCOUTING IN NORTH CAROLINA--SERGEANT C---- IN A WELL--THE ACCIDENT PREVENTS A FIGHT WITH OUR OWN TROOPS--A FIGHT WITH NORTH CAROLINA TROOPS--MRS. MODLIN TURNS A BACK SOMERSAULT--OUR IRISH LIEUTENANT.
While at Plymouth on detached service, with "I" and "F" troops, we were in the habit of scouting ten to fifteen miles once or twice a week, sometimes in one direction and sometimes in another. We were seldom ordered out on a scout by General Wessels, but all that was necessary for us to do when going out on one of these scouts, was to notify the General of the fact that we were going out on a certain road, ten or fifteen miles, at a certain time, and would be back about such a time.
In and Out of Rebel Prisons Part 16
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