Read Ebook: A Soldier's Experience in Southern Prisons A Graphic Description of the Author's Experiences in Various Southern Prisons by Prutsman Christian Miller

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Ebook has 204 lines and 23247 words, and 5 pages

Events preceding my capture--The last day of freedom--A major's folly--My picket line captured--Warrenton--I lose a valuable pair of boots--Culpepper--Farewell to the boots--A disappointing test of good faith 5

Libby--Now I lose my money--"Fresh fish"--Quarters and rations--Boxes from home--Two majors escape--A general conspiracy--Bad news and new prisoners--General Butler saves two Union officers by threatening to hang Captains Fitzhugh Lee and Winder--Two female prisoners discovered in male attire in Belle Isle--We secure their release 13

Sick in the smallpox ward--A new plan of escape--Over a powder mine--The plan fails--Filling the roll, one hundred and nine men "short"--Shot at through windows--"Bread! bread!"--Hopes of exchange--May 1st--Boxes which had passed in the night--Brutes--More boxes--Danville, May 8th--Two weeks later, Macon 20

A tunnel spoiled by the rain--Captain Tabb's cruelties--Corn pone bakers--July 4th squelched--Beyond the "dead line"--Caught--Sherman sixty miles away--Charleston--Negro regimental prisoners--In the gallows' shadow--Whipping-post--Paroles --Money exchange drafts--The Anderson men 29

Sherman devastates Northern Georgia--Columbia "Camp Sorghum"--A "dug-out"--I get away--Free--An unexpected plunge--Trouble ahead--Recaptured--A meal--The "debtor's cell" at Abbeville--Back to "Sorghum" 41

An "underground railway"--More paroles--Bloodhounds--Bribing the guard--Bloodhound steaks--Two hundred and fifty prisoners "short"--Back to Columbia--Building barracks--A good tunnel started 50

Five of us have a narrow escape from the train--Friendly negroes--A good old "shakedown" 57

Surrounded by rebel forces--Undiscovered--Skirmishing for food--Sambo--Sambo's schemes--Sambo brings succor--At headquarters--Sambo's reward 65

General Logan--General Sherman--Clean at last--General Hobart's hospitality--Luxurious ease--A ghastly reminder of horrors escaped--Washington "short"--Ordered back to my regiment--An honorable discharge 74

A SOLDIER'S EXPERIENCE IN SOUTHERN PRISONS.

Events preceding my capture--The last day of freedom--A major's folly--My picket line captured--Warrenton--I lose a valuable pair of boots--Culpepper--Farewell to the boots--A disappointing test of good faith.

My enlistment in the service of the United States as a soldier to aid in putting down the rebellion of 1861-5 bears the date, August 2, 1861. I was mustered into the service as a second sergeant of Co. I, 7th Regiment, Wisconsin Infantry, August 28, 1861, which regiment afterwards formed a part of the famous "Iron Brigade." I was afterwards promoted to the rank of orderly sergeant, serving as such until April 15, 1863, when I was commissioned second lieutenant, and finally on May 4, 1863, received my commission as first lieutenant, in which capacity I was serving at the time of the opening of my story.

Resuming our march south, we arrived at the Manassas Gap Railroad, which we crossed, pursuing our course until we came to a little place called Haymarket, where our division was halted in the fields and a detail sent out for picket duty. Forty of this detail were from my regiment, and I was put in command of the quota furnished from the brigade. We advanced about one mile further south and then west, leaving the roads to be picketed by details furnished from the other brigades of the division.

In my position I could hear heavy trains moving on the pike, but could not see them on account of the woods. Finally a couple of rebels, chasing a few sheep, approached our lines, and naturally I undertook to capture them, but failed in the attempt. This revealed our position, and shortly after a long, heavy skirmish line appeared in sight, advancing upon us from the south. I concentrated my line by drawing in my right, which was the most exposed flank, dropped back a few yards in order to give my men the benefit of the timber for protection, and awaited the result.

As soon as the advancing line was within range we poured in a volley by file, confusing and staggering that section directly in our front, but as each flank of their line extended beyond ours and they continued to advance we were compelled to retreat, disputing the way from tree to tree until we reached a point where the Bristo road crossed the pike at nearly right angles; here I commanded my men to rally on the reserve by the left flank, but the men on the left, to my surprise, informed me that the road was full of rebels. I then directed another retreat by the left oblique, in order to get away from the road and make our way back to the fields, where we had left the brigade, but upon arriving there and jumping the fence we found ourselves in the midst of a rebel battery; the rebels had been massing there for more than an hour.

I had no alternative but to surrender. My casualty list was two men wounded, both in their legs. Ah! what a sorry plight we were in. My men were footsore and weary from their hard marching and maneuvering and our animals were completely fagged.

We were gathered in line; I was their first victim, without hat or sword, both of which had been taken away by the first rebel who had approached me.

All and each of the men had shared the same fate.

We heard a few volleys of musketry north and west of us; then spherical case shot from our own guns began to fly among us, which caused the rebs to beat a hasty retreat to protect themselves from the murderous fire of our artillery.

As soon as we reached the pike we turned south and, after marching a couple of miles, we were halted in the woods, and there put in charge of a guard, which was to take us to Warrenton.

It was now getting quite dark, and to add to our wretched condition it began to rain, notwithstanding which we resumed our march to Warrenton, eight miles distant. Upon our arrival there we were put into an old storeroom, which had been improvised as a prison, and in which we found a number of others prisoners who had been captured or picked up from our army on its retreat from the Rapidan.

Those prisoners were crowded into one end of the room, while we were confined in the opposite. The next step was to examine us for boots and shoes. Previous to this I had secretly taken three twenty-dollar bills from my wallet, dampened them in my mouth, flattened them out a little, then slipped them into my watch pocket. But it was not money they wanted; they were looking for footwear.

It was my misfortune to have on a new pair of shop made boots, which I had just received by express from northern Pennsylvania, having been made to order. The provost marshal came in with a small guard and a couple of lanterns and proceeded with his examination. I think I was the first man approached, the officer giving the order, "Examine that man's feet." The order was quickly obeyed. The guards rolled up my pant legs to observe the length of their boot tops and the quality thereof. Their report was "Good." Another of the guard carried an old sack filled with old shoes which had been cast off by men of our army. The officer politely told me "to pick out a pair of shoes from the sack, and get out of them boots." Having no option in the matter I very reluctantly surrendered my new boots, and replaced them with a pair of the cast-off shoes. Later we will hear from those boots. They examined every man's feet, made a number of good trades, then raised the blockade. After this we were allowed the privilege of the whole room, and laid ourselves down for a good night's rest.

Next morning we were marshaled out into the street, put under a mounted guard in command of a lieutenant, and started for Culpepper. This guard proved to be an exception to most guards; they were very gentlemanly, worthy of the responsibility they had undertaken and would frequently dismount and give some one of the poor fagged and footsore prisoners a seat in the saddle. We reached Culpepper about dark, and were ushered into another old storeroom, similar to that at Warrenton, for the night. Here we found the first infantry we had seen since our capture, and were turned over to their charge. The next morning, two other officers and myself were taken across the street to the provost marshal's office and were asked to give our parole not to leave the building, except to look after the welfare of our men when they wanted to report their grievances to the provost marshal, Major Richardson, whose office we were to be permitted to visit. We willingly gave the parole. Major Richardson assured us that our private property should and would be protected, and enjoined upon us to report, for the benefit of all the prisoners, any and all cases of extortion that came to our knowledge.

During the afternoon I observed a good-looking cavalryman stepping around the provost marshal's office, wearing a fine pair of long legged, newly blacked, boots. The thought struck me that those boots were private property and mine, and probably all that I would have to do to regain them would be to report to the major. I did so, and the following colloquy took place:

"Major, I beg pardon, but I believe you made us the promise that our private property would be respected, and asked that we should report all extortions to you."

"Yes, yes, certainly, lieutenant; have you lost anything?"

"Yes, major, I have."

"What?"

"A pair of new boots."

"Where?" was the major's query.

"While in prison," I replied.

"You don't think that I can find them, do you?" he questioned.

"No, sir, but I can."

"Where are they?" asked the major.

"Upon that soldier's feet," pointing to the man with the boots on.

"Ah, ah, that is one of General Stewart's men and I do not have anything to do with him."

This ended both the dialogue and all chance of ever recovering my treasured boots, so I bid a fond farewell to my late pedal coverings, and went back to my quarters a sadder but wiser man. I knew then just how much faith I could pin in the future upon the pledges of my captors.

Libby--Now I lose my money--"Fresh fish"--Quarters and rations--Boxes from home--Two majors escape--A general conspiracy--Bad news and new prisoners--General Butler saves two Union officers by threatening to hang Captains Fitzhugh Lee and Winder--Two female prisoners discovered in male attire in Belle Isle--We secure their release.

After remaining in this prison two nights, we were marched out and south across the Rapidan River, where we found a train of cars awaiting us. We embarked and were conveyed to Gordonsville, where we were taken to the court house for the night. Next day, we were again placed aboard the train and taken to Richmond, where we arrived about 3 P.M.

At the depot we were separated, the enlisted men being taken to Belle Isle, and we three officers placed in the now notorious Libby Prison. The prison was in command of Major Turner, whom I now saw for the first time. He was a very gentlemanly looking man, well dressed and a smooth talker, and assured us he was quite willing to make our short stay with him as pleasant as possible.

After taking our names, rank and regiment, he informed us that the Confederate Government would not allow us to use or even carry United States money; that we would have to deposit our wealth with him for a short time, and that we would be entertained by his brother Dick.

He demanded our pocketbooks, and very deliberately opened them, counted out the money, gave us credit for it in his book, then told a sergeant that stood nearby to search us. Up stepped the sergeant like a man of business, thrust his thumb and finger into my watch pocket and fished out the three twenty-dollar bills. Alas! how soon was my joy converted to sadness! When I saw those bills vanish I knew that they would meet the fate of my custom-made boots.

After serving all alike, we were handed each a chunk of corn bread about one inch thick and four inches square. We then followed the sergeant upstairs, and were ushered into the presence of the other prisoners, where we first heard the cry of "Fresh fish! fresh fish!! fresh fish!!!"

The words came back from every room in the building, of which there were six, and a rush of the prisoners followed the echo, all anxious to get the latest news from our army and the North. We were besieged with such questions as:

"What army are you from?"

"Army of the Potomac."

"Where were you captured?"

"At Haymarket."

"Are they having a big battle?"

"What corps engaged?"

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