The prisoners of war; a reminiscence of the rebellion

Front matter

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Contents

CHAPTER PAGE

I. Introductory 9

II. At THE Front 14

Chapter I. Introductory

Nearly twelve years have elapsed since the occurrence of the events here narrated, but they are as fresh in my memory as though they had happened but yesterday. The various incidents followed each other so rapidly, and occupied such a short space of time, that I am sometimes inclined to believe I must have been in a dream, but a glance at an empty sleeve quickly dispels that illusion, and brings back to my mind the stern reality of those eventful days. And now to my story.

It was the last day of September, 1864. Charley Fisher and I were in our tent eating our noontide meal of pork and hardtack, when Sergeant Dennis Mahony came in, and clapping Charley on the shoulder, said, Now, my boys, it’s come at last. There’s been heavy

The Prisoners of War.

fighting all along the line, and our brigade is ordered up. We break camp in an hour.’’

‘‘ I’m glad of it,” said Charley, ‘‘ here we have been nearly a month, and nothing but drill, drill, drill, from morning till night.”

‘‘ And yet,” I said, ‘‘ I don’t think I shall ever make a good soldier. Why, only yesterday Lieutenant Dennison reprimanded me because I did not present arms properly.”

The sergeant laughed. ‘‘ Never mind, Andy, my boy, we’ll teach you to present arms to the rebs.” So saying, he left the tent for his duties elsewhere.

We finished our meal, and packing our traps, waited for the roll call.

While we are waiting I shall give the reader an account of ourselves.

Charles Fisher was the youngest son of a physician lately deceased, who had had an extensive practise in Edgetown, a beautiful village on the Hudson River. I said the doctor’s practise was extensive, but it can scarcely be called lucrative, for at his death all his property was found to consist of the house in which he lived, together with ten acres of land, and a life insurance policy for $5,000. Besides Char-

Introduction

II ley, there were two other children, James and Ellen. At the time of his father's death, James had just left college, and had begun to assist the old doctor, so he succeeded to his practise, but with the consent of his mother and sister, he had abandoned it and opened a drug store in the village. Selling medicine paid better than prescribing it, and when I came to Edgetown, about a year before the opening of my story, James Fisher was doing a fair business, and supporting his widowed mother in comfort. Charley was studying law in ex-Judge Howard's office, but the young scamp was fonder of drawing inspiration from the bright eyes of Efffe Howard, the judge's only daughter, than from Coke or Blackstone. As for myself, I need only say that I was an orphan, a native of Scotland, and a distant relative of the Fishers, our mothers having been cousins. Being a fair Latin scholar, and having gained a slight knowledge of medicine from my studies, James Fisher engaged me as his assistant, and I was getting quite proficient in my new calling when circumstances completely altered my career.

One warm evening in July, Charley came into the store and asked for his brother.

The Prisoners of War.

'' Gone out/’ I answered.

“ I'm glad of it, for I wanted to speak to you alone. How would you like to join the army ? ” he asked abruptly.

‘‘ How would I like it? Why, such a thought never entered my head. What makes you ask?”

“ Only this. I see every day some of my friends going to the front, and I think I ought to do something for my country as well as others.”

Well, have you asked your mother? ”

‘‘ No,” said Charley, shaking his head, ‘‘ that’s where I hesitate. I’m afraid she would not consent. But I’m determined to go, and I thought if you would like to go, too, her consent would be easier to get.”

‘‘ Have you said anything to James about it?”

Yes, and he thinks I only do my duty. He says he would go himself if it were not for his business, which, as you well know, is all mother has to depend upon.”

Well, Charley, my boy. I’ll think over it, and if James thinks it right and our mother gives her consent, I may go with you, for to tell

Introduction.

you the truth, Fve often thought I would like to see this famous army of the Potomac/'

Charley had just entered his twentieth year and was rather delicate than otherwise^ but the stirring times had fired his soul, and his enthusiasm communicated itself to all around him. His mother gave a rather reluctant consent, but still it was a consent, and that was enough for Charley. And so it came to pass that we both enlisted in the volunteer army, and went forth to do battle for the Union.

Sergeant Dennis Mahony was a citizen of Edgetown, and had been Dr. Fisher's groom and gardener. He had been a member of the regiment since its organization, had been in innumerable battles and skirmishes, but had never been wounded. He was a short, thick-set man, about thirty-five years of age, and the strongest man in the regiment. Every one loved him, for Sergeant Dinny, as he was called, was always ready to do a good turn to a comrade. The sergeant loved Charley as if he were his own child, and Qiarley reciprocatied the attachment, for the faithful Irishman had been in Dr. Fisher's service since Charley was a child and had once saved him from drowning.

The Prisoners of War.

CHAPTER IL

AT THE FRONT.

The bugle sounded and the regiment was drawn up in companies. Three days’ rations and forty rounds of ammunition were served to each man.

‘‘ Hurry up there, Humbugger,” shouted the Sergeant to a German recruit, whose real name was Hamburgher, but which the boys found it easier to call Humbugger, ‘‘ hurry up, or you’ll get no rations.”

‘‘ Just coming. Sergeant Dinny,” answered the Dutchman as he picked up the last of his traps.

He was an odd-looking fellow; besides his arms and his knapsack he carried an extra pair of shoes flanked by a frying-pan, while a small hatchet dangled at his back.

Do you intend to fight with all that rubbish around you?” asked the Sergeant.

At the Front.

“ I guess so ; them’s all useful things, and I may need them.”

“ All right, my lad, go ahead.”

Our regiment belonged to the Fifth Army Corps, and had been so badly cut up in the Wilderness and at the Weldon railroad that fully two-thirds of its present members were recruits, the most of whom had never been in a fight. After we had got fairly started, the Sergeant came up and marched beside us.

“ Now, Charley,” he said, “ I want you to pay particular attention to what I am going to say. I know it will be the death of your mother, besides Miss Ellen, God bless her, if anything should happen to you, so I want you and Andrew to stick by me. I don’t mean that I will be able to save you from the bullets, but I don’t want to lose sight of you. Another thing I want to tell you : my experience has shown me that the brave soldier who does his duty has just as much chance as the coward who shirks and hides.”

“ I believe it,” said Charley, “ and where you lead I will follow. I’ll do my duty, and if anything should happen, you’ll carry my love to my mother and sister. But what’s the use of thinking of such things? ’’ he added. You have been in almost every fight, and have never got a wound.’’

‘‘ That’s so,” said Dinny. ‘‘Why, last month we lost seventy men in one night on the Weldon Railroad, and though the men on each side of me were killed, the only hurt I got was a knock on the face with one of the poor fellows’ guns.”

The day was very warm, and we were choked • by clouds of dust, but after two hours’ marching we came to whdre a stream crossed the road, and the regiment halted for a few minutes to give us a chance to fill our canteens. Again we started and marched on in silence; for the sound of guns was beginning to be heard, and as we advanced it grew louder and more unremitting. Soon we saw ambulances bringing in the wounded, some lying like dead men, others rolling and groaning in agony.

I confess I felt sick at heart, and no wonder, for it was the first time I had seen the terrible reality of war. Charley, too, looked pale.

“ What an awful thing war is,” he whispered to me, .

“ It ii. indeed,” said the Sergeant, who

At the Front.

had overheard Charley's remark, it made me sick the first time I saw a man killed, but the feeling soon wore off. You will soon get used to it, too. I don't think we'll do any fighting to-night," he continued, ‘‘ for it is beginning to rain, and it will soon be dark."

It was as the Sergeant said; the rain fell in torrents, and it grew dark almost instantly. The firing, too, suddenly ceased and an awful stillness seemed to fall on everything.

We were halted in what seemed to me a large open lot surrounded on three sides by woods. There we were ordered to rest, and throwing myself down on the wet ground, I slept as well as if I had been in a feather bed.

i8

The Prisoners of War.

Chapter III. Captured

At the first streak of day we were aroused and set to work building breastworks.

A party of us were sent to fetch in fence rails and posts, but I had not gone twenty paces when I stumbled over a dead body. A thrill of horror went through me, for this Was the first time I had come in contact with a dead man, and I thought how soon this poor fellow’s fate might be my own.

As the daylight grew stronger I noticed quite a number of dead bodies, their uniforms showing that they had belonged to both armies. A battle had been fought on the same field the day before, and the bodies of the killed had not yet been removed, but what surprised and disgusted me most was the fact that the pockets of every one of these were turned inside ont. Some villian — whether Union or Con-

Captured.

federate I had no means of knowing — had been over the field during the night, robbing the dead, and I wondered that men could be found capable of such contemptible meanness.

After a couple of hours’ hard work we had erected a substantial barricade, and we were all in good spirits as we sat down to breakfast. Having now a few minutes’ leisure, I took the opportunity to look around. The first thing I noticed was that our company was on the extreme end of the line, and with the exception of the captain we were the outside men. On our right was the battlefield of yesterday with its dead still there. In front of this was a wood, the edge of which was nearly parallel with the end of our breastwork. In front of us was a large open space extending to the left for some distance and terminating in a low hill. This was Preble’s Farm, for the possession of which both sides fought desperately two days in succession, but this I did not know till long afterwards.

So far I had not seen any signs of an enemy, and the rebels might be miles away for aught I knew. Judge, then, of my astonishment, when before I had finished my meal, a shower

The Prisoners of War.

of bullets flew amongst us, and the cries of the wounded filled the air.

“ Down, men, down,’’ I heard some one shout, and we rushed to the shelter of the breastworks.

‘‘ Now, boys, stick by me,” whispered Dinny;^ ‘‘ and just do as I do.”

I raised my musket and fired at the advancing rebels, and then fell back to load. In my hurry and anxiety I forgot to tear the cartridge, and I had it rammed down before I remembered what I had done.

‘‘ What shall I do ? ” I cried in alarm, when all further anxiety was spared me on that score, for at that moment I fell, crushed to the earth by some heavy body falling on me, and before I could extricate myself we were surrounded and disarmed.

‘‘ Holy Virgin ! ” cried Sergeant Mahony, his face streaming with blood, ‘‘ we are prisoners. Where’s Charley? ”

Here I am,” he cried, and turning round T saw him holding a canteen to the lips of poor Humbugger, who had been wounded in the thigh.

Just then a rebel officer riding past saw the

Captured.

humane action, and stopping his horse, he said, to Charley, ‘‘ You are a brave fellow to help a comrade when you might have escaped yourself.’’

‘‘ I never thought of that,” said Charley innocently.

'‘What is your name?” asked the officer.

"Fisher, sir; Charles Fisher.”

The rebel started as if he had been shot. " Where do you come from ? ” he asked.

" Edgetown on the Hudson,” said Charley.

" I will see you again,” he said, then raising his voice he shouted, " Sergeant Grill, take these prisoners to the rear, and treat them kindly; no tricks, mind,” and off he rode.

" Wa’al if that ain’t mean of the major, when I might have had a chance to get a good watch or somethin’,” I heard the rebel grumbling to himself. " Come, Yanks, move lively, we can’t stay here all day.”

Sergeant Mahony had been struck by a bullet on the cheek, which laid bare the bone, and carried off part of his ear. It was a painful wound, though not serious, and it had staggered him, so that he fell over me, which led to our capture. Everything had happened so

The Prisoners of War.

quickly that I was quite bewildered. The rain was falling in torrents, and I was so wet and muddy I could scarcely support the weight of my clothes. We were escorted to the rear by Sergeant Grill, who asked me if I had a knife. I told him I had, but I wanted it myself.

You may as well give it to me, for it will be taken from you at Petersburg,^’ he said.

‘‘ Here, Sergeant,” said Charley, you are welcome to this knife, and now tell me who was that officer who spoke to me ; his face seems familiar to me.”

“ That’s Major Fisher,” said the rebel, the Colonel is wounded, so he is in command at present.”

‘‘ You are a Carolina regiment, ain’t you? ”

‘‘ Yes, the most of my company belong to Wilmington, where the major lived.”

‘‘ I believe that rebel officer is my uncle,” whispered Charley to me. You may have heard us speak of uncle Charles, my father's youngest brother.”

Perhaps he is. He seemed to take an interest in you and said he would see you again. Perhaps he will get us paroled.”

I don’t know about that, but if: is worth

Captured.

trying. I never heard the reason why my uncle left home, but I know grandfather tried to find him out and induce him to come back. A friend of my father’s once met him in St. Louis, and spoke to him. He asked kindly enough for his relations, but declined to give his address. That is all I know about him.”

We had now reached a road, and we were met by other parties bringing in prisoners. I had a valuable ring on my finger, and from what Grill said I would likely get it taken from me, so I put it in my pipe and filled up the bowl with tobacco. Just as the rebel had predicted, we were searched at Petersburg, and then we were locked up in a large brick building close by a railroad. There were at least 1,000 men in the building, and as it had rained hard all day, we were soaked through. Cold, wet and hungry, we were left to pass the night as best we could, and it was the afternoon of the next day before we got anything to eat. Then a few mouldy biscuits were served out and we were put on board the cars for Richmond.

The train reached its destination some time during the night, but we were kept in the car

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till daylight, a precaution taken, I suppose, to prevent any of the prisoners from escaping in the darkness. Shortly after sunrise we were ordered out, and after some delay in forming the ranks, while we stood shivering in the raw morning air, we were marched through a number of deserted-looking, grass-grown streets to the Libby Prison, where we were allowed to rest for a few hours. About the middle of the day we were again ordered out, and a couple of colored men came into the building carrying a good-sized tub filled with pieces of boiled meat steaming hot. Each of the negroes had a long fork with which he fished up the ‘‘ chunks,'’ handing them to the prisoners as they passed out.

“ What's this ? " asked Dinny, as he tried unsuccessfully to bite off a piece. ‘‘ It must be the tenderloin of a mule, if 'tain't. I'm a Dutchman."

The negro grinned, but said nothing, and a rebel officer standing by ordered the sergeant to hold his tongue, and fall into the ranks. I was hungry enough to eat anything, but though I gnawed at my piece till my jaws ached, I could not bite a morsel off, and after trying

Captured.

to suck some nourishment from the unsavory mess, I gave it up in despair, and threw the stuff into the gutter. A week later I would not have done such a foolish thing, but I had been a prisoner only forty-eight hours, and my appetite was as yet too dainty to relish such fare.

After twenty-four hours' travel over a railroad most wretchedly out of repair, we reached Greensboro, where we camped for the night in a large field near the track. I was desperately hungry, for the few crackers served out in the morning were barely sufficient for one meal, but I was lucky enough to gain the sympathy of one of the guards, who gave me a sweet potato in exchange for an old knife which the searcher at Petersburg had allowed me to keep, as it was not worth confiscating. After a night rendered sleepless by frequent showers, we were once more packed in the cars, and I was very glad to hear the guards say that we would soon be at our journey’s end.

The Prisoners of War.

Chapter IV. Salisbury

In the fall of 1864, the Confederate authorities at Richmond, finding themselves hard pushed by the armies of the Union, determined to send their prisoners to a place of greater safety than Libby or Belle Isle. Accordingly, on October 5, I found myself in company with some 1,500 other unfortunates at the gate of the Salisbury Military Prison. We were admitted through a wicket gate, one by one, and counted off as we passed through. It was quite dark by the time our party was admitted, but we managed to get a resting-place under one of the few trees in the yard, and I soon forgot my misery in sleep. The recollection of that sleep lingers in my memory to this day, it was so deep, so dreamless, so excjuisitely refreshing. We were all in pretty good spirits as we walked around next morning taking a look at our new abode. It was simply an ob-

Salisbury.

long lot containing about ten acres, and surrounded by a high wooden fence. There was a ditch about four feet wide and as many deep just inside the fence. This was called the dead line, because it was death to cross it. There was a large four-story brick building, which looked like a factory, and four or five smaller buildings at right angles with the large one, forming a square. In the large building rebel deserters were confined, while the others were used as hospitals and bakeries.

'' It wouldn't be hard to get out of this,’' said I.

Well, I don't know,’' answered the Sergeant, but we'll know better by and by."

Just then a drummer came out of one of the brick buildings and beat a call, and immediately the wicket gate opened and some rebel officers came into the yard. When the drum ceased, one of the officers stepped forward a few paces and cried, Non-commissioned officers step out." Twenty or thirty men, Dinny amongst them, stepped out and walked to where the officer stood. The result of the conference may be briefly stated thus : The prisoners were put into divisions of 1,000 men

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under the command of a sergeant-major, and these were sub-divided into squads of lOO men under a sergeant. By good luck Dinny got a squad, which entitled him to double rations, a very great consideration in a place where we were allowed only enough to keep life in us. After an hour or two’s work everything was arranged to the satisfaction of Major Gee, the commandant, and then rations were issued. There were at this time nearly four thousand men in Salisbury Prison, and carloads were arriving every day, which soon swelled the number to ten thousand, and as fast as they came in the prisoners were put into squads and divisions. Our rations consisted of corn or wheaten bread, which was generally served in the morning, and rice soup with an occasional piece of meat at noon. Sometimes the bread was omitted, sometimes the soup, and more than once we got nothing at all. The sergeant-majors were the best off of all the prisoners, for they had the run of the bakeries, and they generally managed to get enough to eat. The commissioned officers were kept by themselves as much as possible, and after a while they were taken to some other prison.

Salisbury.

which one it was I never learned. There was at this time nearly 4,000 men and others were arriving every day. There were only two wells on the grounds, so we had to take flour barrels and carry water from a creek about a quarter of a mile from the prison. Dinny, as sergeant of the squad, could send any one he pleased, so he detailed Charley and I, and gave us particular instructions to keep our eyes open and note everything outside.

The prison was situated at the junction of two roads, a few hundred feet from the railroad, and the other two sides were flanked by woods. I saw that if we could escape at all the easiest way would be by getting either under or over the fence on the side next the forest, and I told Dinny so when I got back.

Aha, my boys, you think so, eh? You forget the bloodhounds.’’

Bloodhounds,” I gasped, do they really use bloodhounds to hunt prisoners with?”

I am told they do,” answered the Sergeant, but we’ll wait till we know more about it. The weather ain’t cold yet, and as long as we get plenty to eat we need not care.”

Our life was now monotonous enough. Every day was like the last, excepting that it grew colder. Tents had been issued, but not enough to accommodate more than two-thirds of the prisoners, so the others dug holes in the ground and covered them with sticks, brush, or anything they could lay hands on. We did the same, and the place we chose was about twelve feet from the dead line on the side facing the forest. Our object in so doing was, if possible, to dig our way under the stockade. The dead line was not more than four feet deep, so we dug a hole about the same depth.

The Sergeant climbed a tree, and with his knife, which he had managed to keep, he cut off some branches, and these formed the roof. We then covered it with brush and earth, and manufactured a door from barrel staves. We then dug a small hole about three feet deep, making seven feet from the surface, and commenced to dig forward toward the stockade. To insure ourselves against detection, we made a cover of staves for the hole, and covering this with earth, we made our fire on it through the day. Our only tools were

Salisbury.

an old bayonet which Charley had found, and barrel staves. The dirt we carried out and scattered around the yard. It was exceedingly slow work, for we had to labor in the dark, and use great caution. After three weeks’ hard work we found we had got about ten feet which would bring us to the edge of the dead line. Ten feet more would bring us outside the fence.

When we were captured Charley had a $50 greenback. This I pinned under the lining of his blouse, and it had escaped the searchers. Now it proved a good friend to us. Inside the prison Confederate money sold at five to one^ so Charley got $250 for his greenback. We bought candles at the rate of three candles for five dollars Confederate money, and we continued our excavation with renewed energy. It was now toward the end of November and the weather was cold and wet. Living in such a hole began to tell on our health. Pool- Charley was sick with diarrhoea, and was unable to do his share of the work. One day the Sergeant and I were walking in the yard jusL as the guard was being relieved. All at once I heard shouts followed by a few shots, and in

The Prisoners of War.

an instant the place seemed to be turned into a pandemonium.

The prisoners had revolted. Some daring fellows had attacked and disarmed the guard, a few old men who did duty at the various wells and hospitals. With the arms thus obtained they rushed to the great gate, and knocking down the guards made their escape into the woods. Oh,’’ I cried, if Charley was only here, what a glorious chance.”

In less than a minute from the first shot the stockade was lined with rebels firing as fast as they could on the defenseless crowd below. In vain the prisoners cried for quarter. For full fifteen minutes the firing continued, and it was with the greatest difficulty that Major Gee and his officers could make them desist. To make matters worse, a four-pounder gun was planted at one corner of the stockade and it poured a deadly shower of grape and canister, tearing everything in its path. The Sergeant had hold of my arm with a vise-like grip. When the firing commenced he stood behind a tree and ordered me to lie down and keep still. I obeyed, and there we remained while the storm of bullets whistled around us. That

Salisbury.

bloody day’s work summed up seventy-six killed and wounded. At length the firing ceased, and little by little we managed to get to our hut. We were both anxious about Charley, for the house was so near the stockade, that if he had gone out during the firing he would certainly be shot. Fortunately the back stood toward the fence, so that there was little danger of a ball going through the thick earthen roof.

Glad indeed we were when we found him just as we left him an hour before. He had been asleep when the firing commenced, and when he looked out and saw the prisoners running to their tents, he quickly crept back and closed the door.

We were too much agitated by the excitement we had undergone to feel like working at our tunnel that night, and well for us it was so, for just at dusk, we heard a knocking at the door, and a shrill voice ordered us to come out.

How many men are here? ” asked a young lieutenant.

Three,” said the Sergeant. ‘‘ One very sick.”

The Prisoners of War.

Sick or well you must all come out till I search the place for weapons. Come, make haste, we can’t stay here all night.”

We came out leading Charley, who could scarcely stand, and the officer himself sprang into the hole. By great good luck the fire was still burning, so he did not see any sign of our subterranean operations, but he saw the gleam of the bayonet, and bringing it out, he asked where we got it.

‘‘ I found it,” said Dinny, and I used it to dig out the hole with.” He added : You can see it has not been on a gun for a long time. I hope you will leave it with us.”

‘‘ No indeed,” said the officer, ‘‘ that’s against my orders. Are you sure that it is all the arms you have?”

“ It is, sir,” answered the Sergeant.

W ell, then, get back to your hole, and don’t leave it again to-night,” and with that they marched ofif to visit some other unfortunate.