UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. SAN DIEGO 
 
 3 182201701 3756
 
 PRIVATE 
 LIBRARY
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORN A SAN D EGO 
 
 ./if. 
 
 3 182201701 3756
 
 ANDERSONVILLB. 
 
 THE STORY OF 
 
 MAN'S INHUMANITY" TO MAN 
 
 BY JAMES R. COMPTON, 
 
 PBIVATE IN COMPANY "F," FOURTH IOWA INFANTRY. 
 
 DES MOINES, IOWA: 
 IOWA PRINTING COMPANY. 
 
 1887.
 
 To the memory of that brave band of heroes who sleep 
 the sleep that knows no waking, and who were true to the 
 flag and the cause of freedom when the monster death was 
 looking them in the face, is this little volume dedicated by 
 one who suffered with them, but by the providence of God 
 was spared to inscribe this tribute to their memory. 
 
 THE AUTHOR.
 
 PBEFACE. 
 
 Anderson ville has become a part and parcel of the Nation's 
 history, and in relating the experience of my incarceration 
 and the consequent sufferings of myself and the brave boys in 
 blue who were my constant companions in that hell on earth, 
 it shall be done in as mild a manner as the thought of one 
 who at this period of his life, after years of suffering from 
 the inhuman treatment received at the hands of those in 
 charge of that prison, can conceive. I shall not attempt to 
 give the full story of the horror and misery of that vile abode, 
 I merely give a sketch of my army and prison life, capture 
 and escape, recapture by the rebel blood hounds and final es- 
 cape from the most inhuman monsters that ever breathed the 
 pure, free air of God, this little work is sent out with the hope 
 that my comrades who have often recited the tale of war to 
 their families and friends may thus have the history of that 
 curse entailed by treason upon the brave boys who went down 
 in the vortex, as a memento of one who was with them and 
 who presents the story in its true light. It was through the 
 heroism of those whose bones are bleaching under the rays of 
 that Georgia sun and the patriotic devotion of their brave 
 comrades who never faltered in their love for the flag and the 
 cause of freedom, that their land is blessed with peace, plenty 
 and happiness; and if we have said one word in this little 
 book that will keep the memory of the dead bright and the 
 cause of the living before the American people in its true 
 light then our efforts have not been in vain. 
 Respectfully, 
 
 JAMES E. COMPTON.
 
 A VETERANS STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Enlists in the Army Sent to St. Louis A Dreaded Disease General 
 Curtis Orders Medical Aid and Rations Return to My Regiment. 
 
 FOR six years I had been a resident of Madison County, 
 Iowa, when war was declared. The president, Abraham 
 Lincoln, had called for volunteers. On the third day of 
 July, 1861, William Debusk and I went together to Winterset, 
 Iowa, and enlisted in the Fourth Iowa Infantry. Our cap- 
 tain was H. J. B. Cummings. 
 
 On the thirteenth of July we were taken to Council Bluffs 
 to join our regiments, our neighbors using their teams to 
 bring us to the Bluffs. 
 
 This was the first company which had left Winterset, and 
 many affecting scenes were witnessed between parting friends. 
 We were, for the present, stationed at Council Bluffs, Col. 
 G. M. Dodge commanding our regiment. At the end of 
 fifteen days' drilling a circumstance occurred to test the mettle 
 of our recently made soldiers. It was reported that the rebels 
 were encrouching on the Iowa line from Missouri; our 
 colonel called for ten men from each company to go out and 
 drive back the troops on the Iowa and Missouri line. The 
 weather being very hot and the roads hard we were a sore- 
 footed lot upon our return to our regiment. The visible 
 forces in our front disappeared one night after trying to 
 frighten us with a discharge of arms. Within five minutes 
 after the discharge of arms by the rebs our column was in 
 line of battle, but none of the boys were hurt. Soon after
 
 8 A VETERAN'S STORY OP THE WAR. 
 
 this we were placed on a steamer and taken to St. Joe, Mis- 
 souri; from there to Hannibal and on to St. Louis, Missouri, 
 where my trials began in earnest. Here we were all mustered 
 into the United States service. At this time St. Louis was 
 expecting an attack at any moment, large bodies of confeder- 
 ates being in that vicinity, so we were ordered to load our 
 guns and to lay upon our arms all night. The following 
 morning I found that I was unable to rise from my impro- 
 vised bed, and was carried by my comrades to one of the hos- 
 pital tents. Here I lay all that day and the following night 
 wild with fever. During this day and night I was waited 
 upon by Alexander Tedford. 
 
 When morning came again I discovered blisters upon my 
 wrists and temples. At this time Mr.Banty, hospital steward, 
 came in and asked me if I did not want to be removed to the 
 general hospital, to which I replied that I did not unless some 
 of my comrades could go with me to take care of me, to 
 which he said I would be well cared for. Presently a team 
 was rapidly driven to my tent door and two men hurriedly 
 picked me up and tossed me into the wagon, bed and all. I 
 said to them, you must be in a great hurry to get me away 
 from here. I was driven away at a rapid rate. Your sick 
 man could not comprehend why he should be hurried about in 
 such a fashion, but presently we came to a wide road. On we 
 went until finally we came to a beautiful shady place, with 
 long velvety gra^s. Here we stopped and the wagon was de- 
 livered of its load. They next proceeded to pitch a tent. 
 To my fevered brain it seemed that these preparations were for 
 the purpose of burying me, but the men relieved my mind 
 upon that score by telling me I had the small-pox, and in its 
 worst form. After the tent was up they carried me in and
 
 A VETERANS STORY OF THE WAR. 9 
 
 placed me on the cot, and there I was left, it seemed to me, to 
 die. I lay there for three long weeks in the care of two strange 
 men from Co. B, of my regiment. I was supplied with 
 neither doctor, medicine, food, and no instructions of any kind 
 were left. Of course I grew rapidly worse under these con- 
 ditions, the different pustules on my face coalesed, forming 
 one covering of heavy exudation over the whole of my face. 
 Sight was entirely gone for ten days. The two men who 
 were left with me would only look in to see if I were dead. 
 If dead, they would dig a hole in the ground and put me into 
 it. These men were the two Bryant brothers, from Co. B. 
 We were very hard pressed for something to eat; some pota- 
 toes and onions were donated by the citizens, and we traded a 
 government ax for some apples and peaches. Some time had 
 elapsed since I was put in the tent, and I had commenced to 
 get better. Mr. Bryant reported our condition to General 
 Curtis, which resulted in an order for us to be moved down 
 the Mississippi river to the foot of those hills designated as 
 Iron Mountains. General Curtis further ordered that we have 
 medical attendance and plenty to eat, which was welcomed, I 
 assure you. 
 
 The cause of my not receiving medical aid sooner, was of 
 the report of our second surgeon, Dr. Grimes, to post surgeon 
 when I was first taken ill that he did not consider my case a 
 dangerous one; so when my regiment left, my surgeon paid 
 no attention to me, which is the explanation of my being sick 
 without medical attention. (This at least is the excuse the 
 post surgeon gives.) I have learned that after my removal from 
 my regiment, when my comrades learned of my condition, 
 the officers were compelled to place a double guard around 
 the regiment to which I belonged to keep them from coming
 
 10 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 out to care for me. But I presume it was better to keep 
 them from me in order that the disease should spread no 
 further. 
 
 In a few days the physician in charge told me that if I 
 would change all my clothes and shave my head, and wade 
 out into the river as far as I could, and wash myself thoroughly 
 with soap twice each day for two or three days that I might 
 then go to my regiment. That was joyful news to me. The 
 expectation of again being with the boys filled me with hap- 
 piaess, for to me the regiment was home. 
 
 But there were places upon my face and hands which had 
 net yet healed. Many persons were frightened at my appear- 
 ance and would run away from me, as it was evident from 
 my appearance what the trouble had been. To show how 
 people feared the contagion of small-pox, I saw that all the 
 passengers left the car on which I rode to Rolla, Missouri. 
 
 1 left the cars at Rolla, Missouri, to walk out to the regi- 
 ment, which was stationed at Camp Lyons. I was very weak 
 and trembling when I left the cars, and my steps were verj' 
 unsteady. My feet seemed to raise too high when I would 
 step. The boys saw me coming, and some of them ran across 
 the guard line to meet me, among which was George and 
 Charles Tibbies, E. Decker, and others. They were rejoiced 
 to see one whom they supposed was dead. What pen can 
 picture the joy of such re-unions? Lieutenant Stitt laid hold 
 of me and marched off to headquarters, where I enjoyed a 
 bountiful repast with Lieutenants Stitt and Goshorn, which 
 consisted of peach cobler and other good things. C. E. 
 Tibbies took occasion to remark that he was going to sleep 
 with me that night. This was followed by objections of
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 11 
 
 others who claimed the right, but as C. E. Tibbies had always 
 been my bunk mate it was decided in his favor. 
 
 Dear reader, do not think that the boys all wanted to bunk 
 with me because I was so handsome, although Dr. Grimes 
 always denominated me by "pretty" after my return. No, it 
 was that feeling that one soldier boy has for his comrades in 
 hardship and danger. At this time our camp was situated 
 one mile south of Rolla, on a beautiful elevated spot of 
 ground. Here we remained for some time. The usual rou- 
 tine of camp life, drilling, picketing, scouting and guard duty 
 kept us here until we drew our first pay from the govern- 
 ment, which was in gold, silver and greenbacks. This was 
 all the hard money paid to us during the war. A portion of our 
 time was made to pass more pleasantly by several temperance 
 speeches, notable among which was one delivered by Rev. 
 Storrs, of Winterset. These exercises were very much en- 
 joyed by the boys. About this time we moved our camp 
 down to Rolla, Missouri, where we built our barracks for our 
 winter quarters.
 
 12 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Improvement in Health Foraging for Stock Measles in Camp The 
 March on Springfield, Missouri, and its Capture Description of 
 Pea Ridge. 
 
 A 1 Y health was very good now, and I became very stout again. 
 1Y1 I would volunteer to go with every scouting party that 
 was sent out. At one time there was ten out of each 
 company asked to volunteer to go on a scout some distance 
 from camp. I was one of the number from our company. 
 We started out and went south from Rolla about twenty-five 
 miles to a little village called Licking. Here a captain was 
 detached with each squad and we started out. We employed 
 skirmishers and coralled the whole country. We were ordered 
 to let nothing pass through our lines. The first our squad 
 found was a man with a number of horses. Our commander 
 called to him to halt, which he immediately obeyed. We took 
 the horses. Our next conquest was a large Texas steer, which 
 I had the honor of downing myself. When we all came 
 together we had a large drove of animals. We had some 
 nice sheep, cattle, mules, asses, and other things too numer- 
 ous to mention. We finally started for camp, and when the 
 boys saw us coming they thought we we're a large band of 
 Mormans or Gypsies on the war path, when finally they con- 
 cluded it was the whole southern confederacy corning down 
 upon them. We boys had our fun as well as doing good ser- 
 vice for the government. Elihu Debusk died in this camp 
 with measles, and his father Isaac took his place in the com- 
 pany. Also another one of the same family by the name of 
 Levi Debusk was discharged and sent home sick before we
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 13 
 
 left Iowa. We were all getting very anxious for active service 
 and wanted a brush with the rebs. 
 
 In February, 1862, we were ordered to march on Spring- 
 field, Missouri. The state of the weather was decidedly bad 
 for the movement of an army. There was snow, rain and 
 mud. Within a few miles of Springfield we were met by a 
 regiment of Price's infantry, and a battery. This movement 
 of Price's seemed to be for the purpose of covering his retreat 
 from the city of Springfield. Price believing the whole Union 
 force was upon him, precipitately fled Springfield in the 
 night. Lieutenant Stitt was detailed the next morning with 
 one company to ascertain, if possible, the situation of the 
 rebels. Lieutenant Stitt was a fearless officer and man, whose 
 actions were ever guarded with caution. With his detail he 
 cautiously approached the city. He soon saw the city was 
 evacuated. Pressing forward he succeeded in capturing a 
 number of rebels and some property. When the main body 
 of the army arrived in the town Price was on the move 
 retreating as rapidly as he could move his army. We made a 
 close pursuit, and our troops were engaged almost every after- 
 noon for several days. We would press forward through 
 creeks, mud or snow upon the double quick to reach his rear, 
 when we would engage them. Our men often caught chickens 
 which they would carry with them, and would be loth to let * 
 them go even during one of these engagements. 1 remember 
 very distinctly of dressing a goose on one of those afternoons, 
 and I thought it the best I ever ate. 
 
 We drove Price to Arkansas. We now stopped several days 
 and drilled; also run a grist mill. We were a tender-footed 
 lot of soldiers when we were ordered into camp. 
 
 At this place we received very strict orders, while on picket
 
 14 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 duty. One night when company F was on guard at the old 
 mill, the snow coming down in great sheets, mixed with rain, 
 I was stationed some hundred paces from the mill at the forks 
 of the road. One of these roads led to our camp and one to 
 Huntsville. There was a bridge on one road which I was to 
 guard by hearing; the other I also had to guard. I was 
 stationed in the shadow of some bushes about twenty feet 
 from the bridge in such a position that I would not readily be 
 discovered. The snow was still falling at 10 o'clock, and 
 melting as it fell. About this time I heard foot-steps on the 
 bridge. I expected an enemy, and hastily fixing bayonet I 
 passed rapidly to the bridge, and with cocked gun I halted 
 the man and demanded the countersign, which he gave cor- 
 rectly. This man proved to be a courier with a dispatch to 
 Capt. Cummings. He informed us that the rebels 'were about 
 to surround us. The army were then on the move, and he 
 was to pilot us through the country by an. old road to meet 
 the main army. We arrived at the main road before the rebs 
 did. Gen. Curtis was made to give the countersign. We 
 marched all night in a snow storm. Men would fall asleep 
 while marching along, and be awakened by falling in 
 the mud, and still we struggled on until daylight's beauti- 
 ful aurora began to show in the east when we were 
 allowed twenty minutes to make coffee. We then 
 marched to the top of the hill, when we stacked arms. 
 Here we made some more coffee. Just as we got our coffee 
 made, the long roll beat. We were in line almost instantly. 
 From there we double-quicked to the Elkhorn Tavern. Here 
 men came riding in hot haste with information that the con- 
 federates were moving. Gen. Curtis was quick to act. He 
 must concentrate his forces. Cavalry men were sent across
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 15 
 
 the country to officers who were out foraging; also to Sigel. 
 Gen. Curtis resolved to fight a battle, although the rebels 
 outnumbered him two to one. He selected Pea Ridge as his 
 battle ground. To understand how the battle was fought let 
 us first take a walk over the ground, starting from Elkhorn 
 Tavern. 
 
 The road from Springfield to Fayetteville runs southwest. 
 The tavern is on the ridge going down the road southwest. 
 We then pass Sugar Creek. We come next to the hamlet of 
 Mottsville, where the tents of the third and fourth divisions are 
 standing. The valley is half a mile wide. Walking on we 
 ascend another hill. Ten miles bring us to Cross Hollows, a 
 place where the hollows or ravines cross each other. The 
 ravines are narrow; about seventy feet wide; the banks 
 steep, and the position one of great strength. Just south of 
 Cross Hollows Gen. Van Dorn pitched his tent. Here we 
 turn northwest, which takes us into Osage Springs, thence 
 north to Bentonsville, which is ten miles west of Mottsville. 
 Here we see the first and second divisions under Sigel. 
 Turning now northeast we come, just before reaching Sugar 
 Creek, to a road branching to the right. If we follow it we 
 will come to the hamlet of Lee Town, and it will bring us 
 back to Elkhorn Tavern. Following the main road we cross 
 Sugar Creek and ascend Pea Ridge and come out to cross Tim- 
 ber Hollow, which is four miles due west of the tavern. Now, 
 keeping these points in our minds we shall see how the con- 
 federates moved to surprise Gen. Curtis. Gen. Curtis had 
 formed his line facing south, expecting that Van Dorn would 
 advance from Cross Hollows, but that was not Van Dorn's 
 plan, as we see him come up the road toward Gen. Curtis with 
 a small force, while the main army turns west toward Ben-
 
 16 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 tonville to meet Sigel. Messengers here brought word to 
 Sigel to retreat to Pea Ridge. He has two hundred wagons 
 which he sends in advance. The rebel cavalry meantime ride 
 rapidly around him and gain his rear, but he fights his way 
 through them, loosing twenty-eight killed and fifty prisoners. 
 He joins Curtis, who seeing Van Dorn's intention quickly 
 changes his front to meet Van Dorn's main body. 
 
 The Union line of battle, on March 7th, at Pea Ridge, was 
 as follows: Carr's division up the road to Elkhorn Tavern. 
 This division to hold the right of the line. They are in the 
 thickest of the fight, which is around the tavern. Next is 
 third division, under Gen. Davis. Beyond him, third and fourth 
 under Sigel. 
 
 The confederate line, Gen. Price with the Missourians, has 
 led the advance of the confederates, they having made a long 
 march and reached the road northeast of Elkhorn Tavern, 
 and confront Gen. Carr's division. Next in line toward Cross 
 Hollows are the Arkansas troops under Gen. McCulloch, while 
 the Texans and Louisianians confront Sigel.
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 17 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Pea Ridge First Day's- Fight Loss of Federal Battery Gen. Curtis' 
 Retreat Cut Off The Out-look Gloomy for the Union Forces, when 
 Rebels Scatter and Run The Victory Ours. 
 
 IT was 10:30 in the morning when Col. Osterhaus with 
 the Third Iowa Cavalry, a detachment of the First Mis- 
 souri Cavalry and the Twenty-second Indiana Divisions, 
 Peoria battery advanced to reconnoiter the confederate posi- 
 tion. The cavalry drove in the confederate pickets, the Peoria 
 battery opened fire, the pickets retreated to the woods, and the 
 cavalry charged after them. Suddenly the woods were thick 
 with confederates, the cavalry was driven back, while the con- 
 federates rushed upon the battery and captured two guns. 
 They were wild with joy. At the same time there was a ripple 
 of musketry in the woods north of the tavern. Pike was 
 advancing to attack Carr. The Union pickets were falling 
 back, the battle was raging so furiously on the left that Gen. 
 Curtis sent Gen. Davis to assist Osterhaus. The third divis- 
 ion went through with his second brigade, commanded by 
 Col. White, Ninth Missouri, Thirty-seventh Illinois, and a bat- 
 tery of four guns. The brigade formed in line. The woods 
 in front of the troops were alive with Indians, under Gen. 
 Pike and the celebrated chief, John Ross. The Texans and 
 Louisiana troops oharged upon the brigade with fury and were 
 driven back, and then the confederates with wild yells pierced 
 the air. They thought they were going to have things their own 
 way. The First brigade swept in, firing terrific volleys, in 
 2
 
 18 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 which Gen. McCulloch was killed and Gen. Mclntosh 
 wounded. Backward and forward, over the knolls, through 
 the hollows, in the fields and thickets, swayed the battle. 
 Sigel's troops came in, Van Dorn ordered re-enforce- 
 ments. Gen. Davis saw that the confederate's left flank was 
 exposed, and sent the Eighteenth Indiana to attack it. The 
 regiment fell like a thunderbolt upon the Indians, driving 
 them and strewing the field with killed and wounded; rushing 
 upon the cannon, wheeling them into position and turning 
 them upon the fleeing confederates. . The battle on the left 
 center was over around the tavern and to the east of it. Col. 
 Carr placed the first brigade. 
 
 Capt. Jones' battery was the first to open fire. Col. Van- 
 dover was at Huntsville, forty miles away. When Gen. Cur- 
 tis' orders reached him the brigade had marched the distance, 
 stopping three times, only making a rest at each halt of fif- 
 teen minutes. We see the brigade advancing half a mile 
 north of the tavern, and Capt. Hayden's battery from Dubu- 
 que coming into position and opening fire. Sterling Price, 
 commanding the Missouri troops, determined to strike with 
 all his force. He presses on, drives Vandover towards the 
 tavern, makes a sudden rush capturing one of the cannons. 
 
 Gen. Carr is out-numbered two to one. " I must have rein- 
 forcements," is his message to Curtis. " I send you my body 
 guard; you must hold them," was the response, and Maj. 
 Brown's Battalion of Cavalry went thundering down the road 
 with a howitzer. They were all the troops that could 
 be spared till the matter was settled on the left. " I cannot 
 hold on much longer," was the second message from Carr. 
 '' You shall have help," was the reply, and a battery came up 
 from the left, with a battalion of infantry. A few minutes
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF ^:HE WAR. 19 
 
 later Curtis himself, with Arboth's division, came sweeping 
 over the ridge to Carr's aid. Through the afternoon Price 
 had passed on, Carr disputing every inch of ground; he had 
 been driven 9, mile. Arboth's batteries wheeled into position 
 south of the tavern. The battle was raging furiously ; four men 
 that stood next to me were shot; large trees were shot down 
 with cannon balls. We had fired away all of our ammuni- 
 tion, so we charged bayonets and drove the rebs and held the 
 ground till night. The battle being on the left, more of 
 Sigel's troops come hurrying across the pasture. Night came 
 on with the rebs defeated on the left, but well satisfied with 
 what they had accomplished on the right; there they were in 
 possession of the field, had captured our cannon, and had pos- 
 session of the road to Springfield, cutting off Curtis' retreat. 
 The outlook was not encouraging for Gen. Curtis, for when 
 the sun goes down his line of retreat is cut off. 
 
 Second day eight o'clock, and the confederates have not 
 advanced. Gen. Curtis resolves to commence the battle. 
 Sigel pushes his infantry forward, attacking the flank of the 
 confederates. I will not narrate all the details; how Pattison's 
 brigade and the Tenth Indiana Battery fought in the fields 
 south of the tavern and east of the road; how the confederate 
 batteries opened upon them, compelling them to fall back; 
 how White's brigade and Davidson's battery made the line a 
 sheet of flame on the left, and the Twelfth Missouri, with 
 twelve guns, on the right in their rear, the men lying down 
 and the cannon sending a storm of shells, into the confederate's 
 line silencing Van Dorn's batteries, discouraging his troops, 
 the Indians fleeing, the Arkansas and Louisiana troops loosing 
 heart, the confederates firing grows fainter, the troops fleeing 
 at last in dismay in every direction so suddenly that Gen. Cur-
 
 20 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 tis is at a loss which way to turn in pursuit. Eight miles 
 away Van Dorn gathered a portion of his scattered troops, 
 and sent a request to Gen. Curtis to bury the dead and care 
 for the wounded.
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 21 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 After the Battle Hospital at Springfield Fishing and making Rings 
 of Mussel Shells Trading Guns Copperheads at Home 
 
 WE remained here in camp a few days and cared for 
 our sick and dead and wounded, and gathered up some 
 forage, moved our camp, and got our pay. I was now 
 sick with intermittent fever, but we started on a march 
 through Arkansas. But sick as I was, .the captain told me 
 I must go on the march also. Colonel Dodge was here pro- 
 moted to brigadier-general, and Adjutant Williams was elec- 
 ted colonel of the Fourth Iowa Infantry. We now started 
 on the march. I was so sick and weak I could hardly walk 
 and it was ten o'clock at night before I got to camp. I was 
 so sick the next morning that Lieut. Stitt took Decker, 
 Logan, Keffer and me to the hospital at Springfield, Mo. 
 
 W hen able to travel again, we got a pass to Rolla, Mo., 
 which was about sixty miles from Springfield. We stopped 
 at Rolla, rested, and had some fine times, then went with 
 some teamster to our regiment. On our road there we had 
 a good time. We would stop and take dinner with our Ar- 
 kansas friends. When we got to our regiment at Jackson- 
 port, Ark., we remained there a few weeks, and spent our leis- 
 ure time fishing, bathing and making finger-rings out of mus- 
 sel shells. 
 
 We then started on the march again for Helena, Ark. On 
 the road there we had several skirmishes with the rebels. We 
 marched on and on, and it being very hot, dry and dusty, we 
 had a long, hard march of it. It being almost impossible to
 
 22 A VETERAN 8 STORT OF THE WAR. 
 
 get water we nearly famished. We often used water with a 
 thick green scum over it, and was glad to get that. One day 
 while the dust was rising so thick that one comrade could 
 scarcely see what the rest were doing we came upon a spring 
 of good water. I rushed up to the fence that was around the 
 spring, set my gun down until I could get a drink, and when 
 I turned to pick it up again my nice gun was gone, and in its 
 place an old gun, its stocks all split, and fit for nothing. 
 Having a skirmish with the rebels almost every day, and I 
 without a gun and could not get one honorably, I waited, 
 thinking we would .get into a general engagement, and I 
 thought that perhaps I could then pick up a dead man's gun 
 that might fall by my side. We had no chance to draw 
 clothing, nor had not had since leaving Rolla, Mo., before 
 the battle of Pea Ridge, therefore we were very destitute of 
 clothing, and when we got to Helena, Ark., we were ragged 
 and footsore. I firmly believe that when we got to Helena 
 that there were five hundred of Gen. Curtis 1 men destitute 
 of pants. So we drew clothing, and the lieutenant told me 
 I had better draw a gun, but he said it would cost me $15. 
 I told him I would not draw a gun. He said he would have 
 inspection in the morning, then what would I do? The 
 Government was issuing guns to some other soldiers, and 
 when they got what they wanted and went away, I went up 
 to the box and picked myself out the best gun I could find 
 and took it, for I didn't think it right for me to have to pay 
 for a gun when a soldier got mine, and I was working for the 
 Government. But everything worked together for good, and 
 I came out on inspection with flying colors. 
 
 We had been at Helena but a short time when the boys 
 begun to get sick. I begun to shake with the chills and fever
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 23 
 
 myself, and bad them for three months every day, and became 
 very weak and reduced in flesh. During that time 1 fre- 
 quently received letters from home, stating that the copper- 
 heads, or "Southern Sympathizers," were riding around 
 my father's farm and cheering for Jeff Davis. How that 
 made the blood boil in my veins. Therefore I went to the 
 captain and told him I would give him $50 if he would give 
 me a leave of absence for one week so I could go home, for 
 I wanted to put those rebels out of my father's way so they 
 wouldn't bother him any more. Bab I could not go. I 
 wrote a letter to one of them, and told him how I loved him, 
 and what he was, and what he would bring himself and fam- 
 ily to if they still remained enemies to our country; and he 
 took offense at it, and had the letter published in the Winter- 
 set paper, and I will here state what the editor says about it: 
 
 "We insert the following by request of one Mr. B., whose object in its 
 publication we know not, but we do know that the author of it is a 
 soldier of Co. F, Fourth Regt. Iowa Vols., and that he is a truthful 
 and an upright young man, therefore we cheerfully give it a place in our 
 columns. Read it everybody. It is the best we have seen from the front 
 lately." 
 
 This enraged the copperheads, and the editor was compel- 
 led to be constantly on his guard. I wrote this letter on the 
 twentieth of October, 1862.
 
 24 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Down the Mississippi Arkansas Post Council of War at Millikin's 
 Bend Captured Paroled Benton Barracks Memphis, Corinth, 
 luka Rebels in the Blue Death of James Stafford Chickasaw 
 Landing Battle above the Clouds Tibbies as a Forager. 
 
 WE now had orders to proceed to Vicksburg, Gen. Sher- 
 man in command. We boarded a Mississippi steam- 
 boat and proceeded down the river to the mouth of the 
 Yazoo. We went up the Yazoo about ten miles and disem- 
 barked on the right bank. Our gunboats had the day previous 
 attacked Haines 1 Bluff, about twenty miles from the mouth of 
 the Yazoo river. Upon landing we were formed into line of 
 battle. The generals commanding were A. J. Smith, M. L. 
 Smith, Steele, and G. W. Morgan. We were about a mile from 
 the enemy's lines. In our line of advance the roads had been 
 destroyed, obstacles of all kinds strewed in our way, and prog- 
 ress was impossible. Gen. Sherman desired us to push to the 
 bluffs, but this was impossible through such obstructions as 
 we encountered. 
 
 At 8 A. M. 150 guns opened upon the Confederate position, 
 and for hours rained shot and shell upon the bluffs. From 
 bush and rock, tree and hummock, there appeared, as if by 
 magic, the rebel infantry. These troops exhibited great courage 
 and determination in their charge. The Federal troops here 
 charged the rebels, driving them back to their very rifle pits 
 where they were protected from our fire by pits and barri- 
 cades, but we were compelled to fall back. We had fought 
 our way to them through a murderous fire; a rain of shot and 
 shell, but no material benefit was obtained by this charge.
 
 A VETERAN'S STOKY OF THE WAR. 25 
 
 We left the ground covered with our dead and dying. The 
 Fourth Iowa lost 120 killed and wounded in fifteen minutes 
 in this engagement. Immediately after this charge there was 
 a terrific rain storm. Among the killed of the Fourth Iowa 
 was Lieut. Pitzer, Alexander Tedford, and Alfred Kelly; 
 Fletcher Smith lost his arm. All these were from Co. F. 
 
 We were, soon after this battle, served with orders to fall 
 into line and march to the fleet. None were allowed to speak 
 above a whisper, nor to make any noise whatever. At last we 
 were all aboard. The fleet immediately proceeded down the 
 Yazoo river, bound for Arkansas Post on the Arkansas river. 
 There was a council of war held at Milliken's Bend. It was 
 decided to attack Arkansas Post. We disembarked about ten 
 miles from the post. Our forces were so arranged as to almost 
 surround the place. Our gunboats and batteries opened with 
 terrific effect, mowing down the enemy in piles. One shell 
 from one of our gunboats disabled their 160 pound cannon, 
 and killed sixteen men at a single shot. When a solid shot 
 could be put in lenghtwise of the rifle pits it would tear 
 whole lines to atoms. We were close upon their works, and 
 had prepared "for a bayonet charge, when they ran up the 
 white flag. We immediately entered their works taking 5,000 
 prisoners. Upon entering their works we gazed upon a sight 
 of horror not soon to be forgotten. The dead and dismem- 
 bered humanity; the dim and dying eye, in which the pic- 
 tures of the battle still lingered; the boy of tender years, the 
 gray-haired soldier, the mother's hope, the father's pride, in 
 one red burial blent. 
 
 But to resume. There were other posts taken while we 
 were at that place St. Charles and Duval's Bluff. After this 
 the main body returned to Vicksburg. My health at this time
 
 26 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 was not good, having been under the doctor's care a greater 
 part of the time since I was sick before. My appetite was 
 capricious nothing seemed to taste good, so with another 
 soldier I thought we would go a short distance and try to 
 get a chicken. We had not gone far when we came upon 
 some rebs who made prisoners of us. They were very much 
 enraged, and we thought they would shoot us, but they 
 finally concluded not to do so, but took us to Little Rock, 
 Arkansas, where we were paroled, which no doubt saved my 
 life; being much reduced in strength I could not have stood 
 their treatment long. 
 
 After being paroled I was sent to Benton barracks, St. 
 Louis, where I was soon taken with lung fever, from which I 
 recovered in due time. 
 
 I now obtained a leave of absence and returned home, 
 where I enjoyed my visit very much. Upon my return to my 
 regiment I felt much stronger. During this stay in camp 
 the boys would amuse themselves and employ their idle time 
 in making rings of mussel shells, and other material suitable 
 for the purpose. We could dispose of our shells for from fif- 
 teen cents to one dollar each. I also read the New Testament 
 through at this time. 
 
 On the first day of October, 1863, I went to the front. 
 Upon our arrival at St. Louis we found the boat was not ready 
 to go. We returned to our barracks and remained that night. 
 The following morning we left by boat for Memphis, Ten- 
 nessee. On our arrival at Memphis we remained one day with 
 the invalid corps. Then we were ordered to Corinth, Missis- 
 sippi; from here by rail to luka, where I found the boys all 
 right. We soon passed on to a station about forty miles dis- 
 tant called Cherokee Station. While here C. E. Tibbies,
 
 A VETEKAtf's STOEY OF THE WAE. 27 
 
 Samuel Wilderson and myself were successful in foraging for 
 food, getting an ample supply. 
 
 This was wet weather and we were thankful to be in a dry 
 place. One day as we "were about eating our dinner the long 
 roll sounded, which was the signal for immediate action; we 
 fell into line. The rebs had charged our camp and were now 
 entering it. The reason of this surprise was that the rebels had 
 donned the blue and we at first thought they were our men. 
 W. Crandall said, " don't shoot them, they are our own men." 
 Just at this moment the rebs opened upon us killing James 
 Stafford. Now that we discovered their identity we charged 
 them and drove them about four miles through a drenching 
 rain; after which we returned to camp. This shows the sub- 
 terfuge which the rebels were always ready to use. Give me 
 the manly, upright foe, not the one skulking under the cloak 
 of friendship until he can strike his unsuspecting foe. The 
 next day after this occurrence we were ordered to prepare for 
 a march. The next day we proceeded in the direction of Tus- 
 cumbia, Alabama. About 3 o'clock this day we engaged the 
 enemy. The engagement continued throughout the day, and 
 tired and weary we went on picket duty that night. The 
 next morning we opened on the rebels with two parrot guns, 
 followed by a dash. They retreated toward Tuscumbia, Ala- 
 bama, that night. We returned the next day to Cherokee 
 Station. On the following morning early we were attacked 
 by a large force of rebels before we were out of bed. We 
 soon formed and drove them back twelve miles. This engag- 
 ment was in rain and mud. We marched on fifteen miles 
 further to Chickasaw Landing, where we encamped. Here 
 we were mustered for our pay. After this we were marched 
 to Fayetteville, Tennessee. This was a hard and fatiguing
 
 28 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 march. We halted and camped for a few hours at each of 
 the following places on our march: Maysville, Alabama, Bel- 
 mont and Stevenson, Alabama, and on to Bridgeport. We 
 camped here. Then crossing the Tennessee river we left our 
 teams at Shell Rock. Now we marched on around Lookout 
 Mountain to within sight of the enemy's rifle pits. 
 
 When we received our sixty rounds we were convinced some 
 one would be compelled to die. The next morning at day- 
 light we formed in line of battle; Gen. Osterhaus was in com- 
 mand of our brigade. We marched on as if we intended to 
 march into the rebel rifle pits, but we stopped about 100 yards 
 from their lines and remained there until about noon. We 
 were placed there to draw the attention of the rebs from 
 Sherman until his right wing could surround them. We 
 then charged, taking 250 prisoners. We then^charged Look- 
 out Mountain and fought until about 1 o'clock at night. It 
 seemed to us we were above the clouds. The rebs rolled large 
 stones down the mountain at us. It was raining below us, 
 and boulders from above. Here would come the great bould- 
 ers down the mountain side, accompanied by a streak of fire. 
 Large trees were crushed off like straws. These boulders were 
 accompanied by lead and iron hail. 
 
 Our division moved down the mountain that day, driving 
 the enemy before them, finally reaching the enemy's pits. Here 
 we took them lengthwise. A terrible fire was poured out by 
 both armies. General Grant now ordered Thomas to advance 
 and take the rebel rifle pits at the base of the mountains. 
 Sherman was then driving the enemy in great confusion, and 
 as General Thomas drove them out of the rifle pits they con- 
 tinued falling back through a gap at the foot of Lookout 
 Mountain and Mission Ridge, but we got into the gap first
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 29 
 
 and cut them off, capturing a lot of prisoners and guns. I 
 was then sent back with some prisoners some six miles from 
 the battle field, and even there it seemed terrible. Thousands 
 upon thousands of muskets firing volley after volley at each 
 other, and the artillery was so heavy and repeated so rapidly that 
 the earth six miles away was all in a tremble. It seemed far 
 worse to me there than when I was engaged in the fight myself. 
 General Bragg's army and Hardee's command all fled, routed 
 completely, toward Ringgold. Thousands of prisoners, and 
 small arms and a large quantity of ammunition were taken by 
 us from the confederates; Hooker pursued, and that night Mis- 
 sion Ridge blazed with Union camp fires. On the 26th of Octo- 
 ber I took the prisoners left in my charge to headquarters, and 
 then went to my regiment, which was now some ten miles in 
 Georgia, and the next morning being the 27th of November, 
 we again made an attack upon, the rebs, on the Little Chi- 
 camauga at Ringgold, Georgia, and on Taylor's Ridge, and 
 they fought desperately. Our brigade marched right up in 
 front of their artillery, which they had planted in the gap 
 between the mountains. Here the Thirteenth Illinois was sta- 
 tioned, and they stuck to the gap, fighting heroically, but were 
 cut up badly, while my regiment, or rather the Fourth Iowa, 
 of which I was a member, climbed up the ridge. We could 
 injure the enemy but little for they would lie down on the 
 top of the ridge, which was a circle in form; they had a cross- 
 fire upon us. It was a very bad place and we became much 
 demoralized, when the Ninth Iowa came to our relief upon 
 the right. We cheered and rushed forward with fixed bayo- 
 nets, reaching for them, when the rebels fell back, and that 
 vexed us very much, for as soon as were on equal footing 
 with them they ran. We were so near them that the dead on
 
 30 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 both sides would fall in piles together, but they soon fled, and 
 being so fleet of foot we followed them but a short dis- 
 tance, and weary, but cheerful, we turned our attention to 
 caring for our fallen comrades. The Union losses in this 
 battle, including the killed, wounded and missing, were 
 reported to be about four thousand. More than six thousand 
 rebel prisoners, not including the wounded, were here cap- 
 tured, besides forty-two pieces of artillery and many thousand 
 small arms, and a large train. The loss to the rebels was not 
 known. When the rebs fell back upon Taylor's Ridge in 
 dismay they left their corn meal, sorghum and other supplies. 
 We gathered them up. I ran for a sack of meal, which I got. 
 C. E. Tibbies got some sorghum, so by and by we had some- 
 thing to eat. 
 
 November 28th, in camp on Little Chicamauga, near Ring- 
 gold in Georgia. Rained all day, being very disagreeable. 
 Next day we moved our camp up in the timber. It was very 
 cold and we were without tents or blankets, and nothing 
 much to eat, as we had been cut off from our supply 
 wagons so long, and marching and fighting all the time, and 
 it being so cold that there was great suffering among the 
 soldiers. On the 30th, C. E. Tibbies and I went out to see if 
 could not find something to eat, but we had to return to camp 
 with only one chicken.
 
 A VETERANS STORY OF THE WAR. 31 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Across the Tennessee Barefoot Soldiers Clayville, Alabama, Warned 
 by Southern Sweethearts Captured. 
 
 DECEMBER 7, 1863. We marched back near Chatta. 
 nooga in Tennessee. Here we went into camp near the 
 Georgia line. From this place we marched through 
 Chattanooga and crossed the Tennessee river twice upon our 
 pontoon bridges. Finally we arrived at Bridgeport, Alabama, 
 where we remained several days in camp. Upon this march 
 we were without tents or blankets. In fact we had nothing 
 to shelter us from the inclement weather, and the only beds 
 were branches of trees, when we could get them, or the cold, 
 wet ground. We were nearly barefooted. After we were in 
 camp here we drew our pay. I received $182, of which I sent 
 $160 home. This would have been a good place to camp in 
 dry weather, but during our stay it was very wet weather. 
 It seemed we must be always on the move, so in a few days 
 we were again ordered to march, so we proceeded to Steven- 
 son, Alabama. Here we enjoyed a Christmas breakfast, which 
 we received in trade for a pig which we had bagged that morn- 
 ing. We fell into line early and marched eight miles that 
 day, which brought us to Scottsborough. We continued to 
 march daily, making very little progress, owing to the bad 
 roads and inclement weather. This region is subject to very 
 sudden changes in temperature, which affect a northern man 
 more than the steady cold of the north. We had rain, sleet, 
 snow and mud in unstinted quantity. 
 January 1, 1864. At this place we had the coldest weather
 
 32 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 of the winter. All this day I remained in camp and fed the 
 fire with rails. 
 
 January 2, 1864. We moved our camp south to Wood- 
 ville, a dryer and more desirable spot. Here we stayed some 
 time. I went to the country several times to get a change of 
 food, and paid fifty cents a meal. 
 
 There was considerable excitement in our camp at this 
 time about re-enlisting as veterans, as our time was almost 
 served out. A number of us who did not re-enlist were de- 
 tached to Clay ville, Alabama, to guard this little town from a 
 large bod} 1 of rebels. There was only about forty of us. 
 Our boys used to go to see the confederate girls in town, 
 which enraged the rebel soldiers who were on the opposite 
 side of the Tennessee river upon which the town was located. 
 We would go down to the river bank and tell the rebels on 
 the opposite bank how we were courting the girls in town. 
 This would make them so mad they would blaze away at us 
 across the river. Our little force were in a very dangerous 
 position here, but we were not at all alarmed, and the boys 
 played the cavalier to the southern girls, and finally some of 
 them were married to girls of this'place. About this time our 
 captain went home on a furlough, and a strange lieutenant was 
 placed in command, who was a very incompetent man. His 
 first act was to remove the guard from the river. The men 
 expostulated with him, stating they would rather stand guard 
 than to give the rebs a chance to surprise us. We were also 
 told by our rebel girls that we would be surprised and all be 
 killed if we were not on our guard. And so it proved to be; 
 after this worthless officer had withdrawn the guards from 
 the river we were at tke mercy of our foes. We were only 
 forty strong and slept in some shanties erected for barracks.
 
 A VETERAN'S STOKY OF THE WAR. 33 
 
 One night we were awakened by loud knocks upon our doors, 
 which were immediately thrown open and volley after volley 
 of small arms discharged into our rooms. As soon as we 
 were dressed we returned the fire with effect, but were forced 
 to surrender by the overwhelming numbers of the confeder- 
 ates. If we could have formed in company they would not 
 have captured us so easily, if at all. It would have been 
 better to have died then and there than to have suffered the 
 way we did later on, while in their hands. I always thought 
 it was wrong to send so small a force so far away from assist- 
 ance in the vicinity of so large a body of rebels. 
 
 After our surrender we were stripped of everything of 
 value. I had $65, which they took; also my best clothes, and 
 my boots. Some of the boys were stripped nearly naked; 
 some were the recipients of old shoes, but twelve were left 
 barefooted. George B. Davis had some money in a belt which 
 escaped the' notice of our captors, which he magnanimously 
 divided between us when we reached our destination, which 
 proved to be Andersonville prison. We were crossed over the 
 river that night, and on the morning of January 15th, we were 
 started on our way to Rome, Georgia.
 
 34 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Man's Inhumanity to Man Andersonville Prison Pen Scenes and 
 
 Events. 
 
 DEAR reader, I wish I could describe the place to which we 
 were going, but no tongue can tell, no pen do justice 
 to the horrors of Andersonville slaughter pen. 
 
 As before stated, we were left nearly naked; the weather 
 was very cold which was sufficient of itself to produce dis- 
 ease in healthy men, well clothed and well fed, who would 
 have to undergo the treatment we did. We were given a 
 very small ration of corn meal, and were informed we could 
 have just fifteen minutes in which to cook it. But not being 
 furnished with any cooking utensils we could do nothing with 
 it. Some of our boys tried to eat it and others threw it away. 
 Under these conditions we took up our march for Anderson- 
 ville. We were marched twenty-five miles, when we stopped 
 for the night in an old house. We had no fire; neither sup- 
 per nor breakfast. This day we accomplished thirty miles. 
 This night they gave us one pound of corn meal and eight 
 ounces of bacon each, which was to last us two days. The 
 next day as the sun began painting the eastern sky we com- 
 menced a thirty-five mile walk. That night as the guards 
 slept, one of our boys awakened the rest of us, when we 
 attempted to make our escape; but we found our legs were so 
 swollen and stiff that we Could scarcely stand, much less walk 
 far enough to escape. So one of our boys called to the guard 
 to awaken, or they might be found and put under arrest. 
 
 The next morning we found that snow had fallen two
 
 A VETERANS STORY OF THE WAR. 35 
 
 inches deep. The suffering of those who were bare-footed 
 cannot be described. With our feet already bleeding and 
 mangled from coming in contact with rough surfaces, and the 
 skin actually worn out, we were again forced to march. 
 While we were stopping a few minutes, C. E. Tibbies, who 
 had only a few rags tied around his feet, noticing one of our 
 party whose feet were mare mangled than the rest, told him 
 to ask the guard to take him to a house near by and ask for 
 some rags to tie about his feet, which he did. The woman 
 if it is proper to call her a woman cursed him, called him an 
 abolitionist, and said she would scald him if he did not get out 
 of her house. We marched on. I am sure we could have 
 been tracked by the blood left on the snow the last two days. 
 About dark of this day we reached Rome. We were marched 
 up the main street to a large three-story brick house. This 
 house was filled with prisoners I believe all of them suspects 
 and deserters from the rebel army. When they saw us they 
 called out: "Hang them! Bring them up, we will snatch 
 them bald!" But when we were ushered into the room with 
 these men, and our guards had gone, we found they were our 
 friends. It can easily be understood why they threatened us 
 in the presence of the guards. When we were alone, they 
 shook hands with us, and showed the deepest feeling for our 
 distress. They gave us their rations, divided their tobacco 
 with us, and made us as comfortable as possible. They re- 
 ceived with eagerness our information regarding our lines, 
 and how they could reach them if they had a chance to run 
 for it. 
 
 The next morning we were put on the cars and conveyed to 
 Atlanta. Here we were kept in a pen for ten days, with shel- 
 ter for only a part of us. For rations, we drew one pound of
 
 36 A VETERAN S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 meal and three-quarters of a pound of spoiled beef per man. 
 To add to the discomfort of our situation, the snow fell to the 
 depth of about four inches while we were in this pen, and our 
 feet were cut, swollen and ready to burst from our long march 
 over ice and snow bare-footed. Such, dear reader, was the 
 suffering of our men, that out of twelve who were bare-foot 
 at this time, only two were alive three months later, viz: C. 
 E. Tibbies and myself. 
 
 In this condition we were taken to Andersonville by rail; 
 the night we arrived was dark and rainy; when once inside 
 the walls, and our eyes became accustomed to the lights and 
 shadows of the place, we could see men sitting in groups in 
 all directions, small blue flames issued from the ground, which 
 we soon learned were from the resinous roots of pine stumps 
 which the prisoners had tired to warm by, and the roots had 
 burned deep into the sandy soil, and sent forth smoke con- 
 tinually. 
 
 Some of our boys remarked: " See those poor starved 
 negroes; it is shameful to treat them so." But when morn- 
 ing came, we found that they were not negroes, but some of 
 our own brave boys, whom starvation and exposure had 
 reduced to skeletons, and blackened by smoke and filth, had 
 the color of negroes. 
 
 Next morning I looked over our pen, and found it to be 
 about fourteen acres in extent, three acres of which was 
 swamp. There was not a tent or even a board to shelter the 
 sick and dying, the violent storms, the merciless heat of the 
 sun above, the millions of crawling maggots which literally 
 covered every inch of ground, and other vermin which could 
 easily be discovered by putting the foot upon the ground for 
 a few moments and then examining it. There was no place
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 37 
 
 for a man to lie down, and I did not lie down the first night. 
 As before stated, out of twelve bare-foot prisoners of our 
 squad, after two months but two were living, viz: C. E. 
 Tibbies and myself. 
 
 The mode of death of these ten prisoners was of the same 
 character, indicating death from B right's disease of the kid- 
 neys. Extensive dropsy of the feet and legs would con:e on, 
 eventually the feet would burst; but several died before this 
 occurred. At night the sand was cold, during the day it was 
 hot. Our bed was upon the naked earth, and our covering no 
 less than the blue canopy of the starry-decked heavens. When 
 we first came to this prison there were only about six thou- 
 sand prisoners, but afterwards they sent all their prisoners to 
 this place, until there were so many that we could not all lie 
 down at one time. We were without clothing, except when 
 some prisoner was fortunate enough to steal a meal sack, with 
 which he would endeavor to cover himself from the heat of 
 the day and the chill of the night. So numerous were the 
 sick and dying that the scarcely less feeble and starving com- 
 panions could do nothing to render them assistance. So 
 numerous were the cries for assistance, that should a well man 
 attempt to pass from one side to the other of our prison, and 
 stop to assist each one who implored him piteously for assist- 
 ance to rise, or for a drink of water, he would not make the 
 journey in a week. I am witness to the fact, that many 
 young men in good health, whose hair was black as the raven, 
 did, in twenty-four hours, become raving maniacs, whose 
 hair became as white as the driven snow before the third day's 
 imprisonment. The food allowed each prisoner daily was one 
 pint of corn meal and four ounces of meat. The meat was 
 not such as would tempt the appetite of any but starving men.
 
 38 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 This quantity was insufficient, so we were always hungry. It 
 was the universal testimony of the prisoners that whenever 
 they went to sleep, they would dream of something to eat. 
 We would constantly dream of eating, and as certainly awaken 
 as we were about to taste the food. I presume our anxiety to 
 taste the food would awaken us. 
 
 Rain had its benefits as well as its disadvantages, when it 
 rained, the stream that ran through the pen would be purified 
 to some extent; at the same time, every hard rain actually 
 drowned many of our poor boys;' many of them too weak to 
 help themselves, would be strangled to death by the rain strik- 
 ing them in the face. One night when we had a particularly 
 severe storm, more than two hundred perished in this way. 
 And yet there are men to-day who cry, "down with the bloody 
 shirt." You must not say anything to hurt the feelings of 
 the rebel or his copper-colored accomplices of the north, "For 
 Brutus is an honorable man/' 
 
 It was some time in April, we were not dying off fast 
 enough to suit the Southern Confederacy, so one morning 
 we were called up in line and " vaccinated " with a deadly 
 virus, which in all probability was poison taken from the 
 decaying corpses, for the material caused symptoms identical 
 with those which follow dissecting wounds. A lot of boys 
 were sent in to act as surgeons; these boys would vaccinate 
 one day, and in a few days would take all the arms off at the 
 shoulders, of those who did not die from the vaccination. 
 
 One of our boys who was detailed to bury the dead, said 
 that one day he would receive a great many arms to bury, and 
 the next day he would get the same number of armless bod- 
 ies. 
 
 Many of our boys suspected they were being poisoned, and
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR, 39 
 
 would find some way to cut out the part where the poison was 
 inserted, and thereby saved their lives. C. E. Tibbies, George 
 N. Tibbies and myself, for several months after making our 
 escape from prison, were afflicted with dreadful sores; we 
 were attended by the best of physicians. I escaped vaccination, 
 having had the small-pox previous to my admission. But 
 after I left Andersonville I suffered from "scurvy" and blood 
 poisoning, and diseases of the lungs, which usually resulted in 
 all those cases where a man was confined long enough, but 
 lived to get out. 
 
 These poor fellows would frequently have large ulcers 
 form under the arms, which would usually result in slough- 
 ing of the flesh covering the sides. This threw open the way 
 to vermin, which soon found its way beneath the surface, and 
 ended the victim's life by attacking the vital organs; to use a 
 homely expression, they were eaten up alive. About one 
 hundred and twenty dead were carried out and laid by the 
 gate each morning. The appearance of these bodies was too 
 shocking to be described in a book of this kind.
 
 40 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Providence Springs Trial of Mosby's Gang Death Warrant Signed 
 by Abraham Lincoln Attempts to Escape. 
 
 IT is true that in the Andersonville prison, during the 
 month of August, at a time when the water in the 
 branch had become scarce and foul and the captive 
 Unionists were dying by hundreds for want of pure water; it 
 is undoubtedly a fact, and whether it was a "special provi- 
 dence" or not, as most, if not all, of those wretched prisoners 
 believed, it served all the purposes of one. Of the origin of 
 this spring: during the month of August, 1864, the water in 
 the branch was indescribably bad. Before the stream entered 
 the stockade, it was rendered too filthy for any use by the 
 contaminations from the camp of the rebel soldiers, situated 
 above the prison. Immediately upon entering the stockade, 
 its pollution became terrible; the oozy seep at the bottom of 
 the hillside drained directly into it, all the filth from a popu- 
 lation of thirty-three thousand. Imagine the condition of an 
 open sewer through the heart of a city of that many people, 
 and receiving all the offensive products of so dense a popula- 
 tion into a shallow, sluggish stream, a yard wide and five 
 inches deep, heated by the burning rays of the sun at the 
 thirty-second parallel of latitude. At this awful extremity, 
 what was the astonishment and gratitude of the camp one 
 morning, when it was discovered that during the night a 
 large, bold spring had burst out upon the north side, about 
 midway between the branch and the summit of the hill, and 
 was pouring out a grateful flood of pure, cold water, in an
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 41 
 
 apparently inexhaustive quantity. This was the morning of 
 August 13, 1864. The overjoyed Union prisoners christened 
 it "Providence Springs." 
 
 Andersonville prison contained prisoners of almost every 
 race. I noticed Indians, Chinese, Germans, Swedes, English- 
 men and Negroes. There were surgeons, ministers, artists, 
 mechanics and musicians. The rebels were anxious to get the 
 mechanics to work for them, for which they gave an extra 
 amount of food, of better quality, and furnished them shelter. 
 But those who accepted of these offers were marked by us, 
 and upon their return to prison we shaved one side of their 
 heads, this was always done as a punishment for assisting our 
 enemies. Our physicians were generally detached to assist 
 as hospital stewards, where they did good work for our poor 
 boys. There was a fellow known as Jim Malloy, who was a 
 great sleight of hand performer; he had three assistants. It 
 seemed that bolts and bars would not hold him. One night 
 Jim and his three assistants were fastened to an iron bar by 
 means of devices. Malloy was quite a ventriloquist, and dur- 
 ing the night the ignorant guard who stood over them, was 
 startled by a solemn voice from the clouds, warning him of 
 the vengeance to come upon the rebels for their cruelty to the 
 Union prisoners, and while the guard stood trembling, be- 
 hold the bars fell from their limbs, anjl they made their es- 
 cape without hindrance. 
 
 Jim Malloy was supposed to be a spy; he escaped ten or 
 twelve times, but was always recaptured. I think he always 
 made his way to our lines and reported, when he would allow 
 himself to be retaken. 
 
 There was a man in the prison named Mosby; he was first 
 a bounty jumper, but afterwards raised a company of one
 
 42 A VETERANS STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 hundred men and bushwacked first on one side and then on 
 the other. Finally he offered himself and men to Mosby 
 on the Potomac. But contrary to his expectations, he was 
 taken with all his men, and sent to Andersonville. Here he 
 and his band formed themselves into a raiding, robbing gang 
 of thieves and murderers. They would knock down the weak 
 and the sick and take their rations from them; also anything 
 else they had which they themselves wanted. Prisoners 
 knocked down by this gang usually died of their wounds and 
 sometimes were killed outright. Finally the rest of the 
 prisoners associated together for mutual protection. We 
 arrested him and his gang, and got permission from General 
 Winder to try them for their lives. We chose a judge and 
 jury several lawyers volunteered for the prosecution; Mosby 
 had some money, and hired the best counsel in the camp for 
 his defense. Each man was tried separately. The court was 
 in session several weeks. The jury found six guilty, and the 
 judge sentenced them to be hung until dead. The papers 
 were then sent to Washington, and came back signed by Abra- 
 ham Lincoln. The day of execution came, and they were hung. 
 The pleading was as good as was ever heard in a trial of this 
 kind. The rebel officers and privates would come and listen 
 for hours to the speeches, and examination of witnesses. 
 General Winder was present one whole day, and seemed to 
 have his curiosity aroused by the legal lore displayed by Uncle 
 Sam's private soldiers. 
 
 The weather now became intensely hot, and as we had no 
 hats, and no shelter from the direct rays of the sun, we were 
 burned by the heat and the reflection from the sand until the 
 skin would blister and form scabs over our faces, hands and 
 feet; the pain of these burns was hard to bear; it resembled
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 43 
 
 the pain felt upon being burned by hot iron. The wall of our 
 prison was made of hewn logs, set in the ground six feet, and 
 rising above the surface twenty feet; this shut off all the air 
 from us, and acted as a barrier to any breezes that might 
 come that way and blow off some of the offensive odors. The 
 air we breathed and the water we drank were doing their 
 work. An army of frtsh, healthy prisoners would be brought 
 in, and in a few days they would begin to look like the leaves 
 in fall after the frost has touched them; in a few more days 
 they would begin to disappear; the lines of dead lying just out- 
 side the stockade every morning would tell the sad story. 
 The rebel doctors claimed, with evident satisfaction, that they 
 were killing^ more men than Lee's whole army, and this was 
 true. But was this not a cowardly, inhuman depravity? 
 Such depravity as this belongs only to the South; no North- 
 ern soldiers could turn themselves into such inhuman fiends. 
 
 A platform ran around the stockade on the outside for the 
 guards to walk upon, which placed them head and shoulders 
 above the stockade. The dead-line was twenty feet from the 
 wall, and the poor wretch who unwittingly came too near this 
 line, was shot down with as much deliberation and heartless- 
 ness as one would shoot at a target. Very often when a 
 prisoner would attempt to cross the branch, the guard would 
 shoot him, and the amber-colored stream would blush again 
 with loyal blood, and another rebel soldier get a furlough for 
 taking the life of a Yankee. 
 
 We were constantly making tunnels; almost every night 
 some of us would get out, only to be caught by bloodhounds 
 and then punished. We would use a piece of tin canteen to 
 dig with; the dirt we would throw around where we slept, to 
 make believe we were fixing a place to sleep.
 
 44 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 We came near all getting out one day; we had organized 
 into regiments and divisions; officers were elected; we all had 
 clubs. We had worked until one whole side of the prison 
 was ready to fall; we intended to charge the battery the first 
 thing, but when we were about ready to make a break, we 
 found that one of our soldiers had divulged our plans. The 
 traitor was taken out of prison, and that saved his life, for we 
 would have killed him if we could have found him. One of 
 our boys said that he knew the traitor, and that he would kill 
 him if he ever saw him. if it was twenty years after, should 
 he live to get out himself. After this the rebels stopped our 
 rations one day and had all the earth filled in again.
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 45 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Many Plans for Escape Negroes' Singing News from Atlanta Rate 
 of Deaths, one every Eleven Minutes. 
 
 r PHE prisoners were constantly devising every plan for escape. 
 * There was a company of about thirty-five laid a plan for 
 escaping by drawing themselves up with a rope made out 
 of rags strong enough to bear the weight of a skeleton. But 
 like hundreds of others they were caught in the act of getting 
 out, while others were chased and caught and torn by the 
 thirsty blood-hounds. Some were even torn to pieces, but as 
 this party was progressing nicely, as they thought, about 
 fifteen had reached the summit of the stockade, and got on 
 the outside, when the voice of a rebel guard rang out, "Halt, 
 
 there, you d Yank." That was enough, the game was 
 
 up. They were discovered, and the remaining twenty left 
 that locality with all the speed in their power, getting away 
 just in time to escape a volley, which a squad of guards, 
 posted in the lookouts 1 poured upon the spot where they had 
 been standing. 
 
 The next morning the fifteen who had got over the 
 stockade were brought in, each chained to a sixty-four pound 
 ball. This happened before they got to the dead-line. Their 
 story was that one of the prisoners, who had become cog- 
 nizant of their scheme, had sought to obtain favor at the 
 rebels' hands by betraying them. The rebels stationed a 
 squad at the crossing place, and as each man dropped down 
 from the stockade he was caught by the shoulder and the muz-
 
 46 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 zle of a revolver thrust into his face. It was expected that 
 the guards in the sentry boxes would do such execution 
 among those that were still inside, as would be a warning to 
 others who should try to escape. They were defeated in this, 
 for the prisoners scattered and fled from that place, and the 
 man that divulged the plan was rewarded with a detail into 
 the commissory department where he fed and fattened like a 
 rat that had secured undisturbed homestead rights in the cen- 
 ter of a cheese. When the miserable remnant of us were leav- 
 ing Andersonville months afterward, he could be seen round 
 and sleek and well-clothed, lounging leisurely in the door of a 
 rebel tent. He was one of those milk and water men, such 
 as we always have among us. They are no good. They can- 
 not be trusted under any circumstances. 
 
 One time some traitor reported a tunnel when there was 
 none, and the old captain stopped the rations of the entire 
 prison till we would tell them where the tunnel was. In 
 order to save the prisoners, two poor, starved wretches vol- 
 unteered to start a tunnel, and when they got it started they 
 went to Wirze and told him that they were the men that had 
 started the tunnel, and the prisoners drew rations again. But 
 alas, these two poor wretches were taken and tied up by the 
 thumbs, and when they were cut down, they both fell to the 
 ground. One of them finally got on his feet, but the other one 
 expired. See what suffering one villainous traitor can cause. 
 
 These are the class of men that banded themselves together 
 as raiders to rob the sick and dying. One day my comrade, C. 
 E. Tibbies traded with the guard and got a small box of 
 tobacco for which he paid five dollars in greenbacks worth 
 fifty dollars in confederate money. He intended to trade part 
 of his tobacco for corn meal or something else to eat, and one
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 47 
 
 of those raiders came to him. However, Tibbies did not know 
 it was a raider, and the raider told him he would trade him 
 meal for tobacco, and asked him to go with him up where the 
 meal was. Tibbies followed him until he got in the midst of 
 the raider gang, and they took the tobacco and divided it 
 among themselves and told Tibbies he had better get away, 
 and Tibbies took them at their word arid went away, for he 
 had heard of them, but had never had a racket with them 
 and did not desire one. But he came on and told how they 
 had treated him, and it enraged us against the raiders, and our 
 sergeant, W. W. Crandall, said, u by Him that liveth, we will 
 have that tobacco or blood." 
 
 We were soon armed with clubs, which had been prepared 
 before for their benefit. 
 
 Crandall marched his men up to the man that got the 
 tobacco and demanded it, and he remarked: "Here is 
 where you get it," and grabbed a club and gave the signal 
 for fight, and in less than three minutes there were seventy- 
 five raiders on the spot armed with clubs. The fight opened 
 at once, but we soon found that we had undertaken more than 
 we could accomplish, as they outnumbered us six to one. 
 They rushed around us with a hop as though they were going 
 to have some fun, but we made it hot for them for a short 
 time, that is, until we could get away. Our clubs were about 
 four feet in length and about the right heft to handle well, 
 and we plied them right and left until we had wounded 
 fifteen, and one mortally. 
 
 Every man in our squad got wounded but none mortally. 
 We were always on the lookout after that, and never let them 
 get the advantage of us again. 
 
 They attempted to make a raid on us one night about mid-
 
 48 A VETERAN'S STOUY OF THE WAR. 
 
 night, but we were on guard and we soon repulsed them and 
 drove them from our camp. They were continually harrass- 
 ing the prisoners, and kept them in constant dread. 
 
 We were much interested in the negroes' singing. 
 
 They wove in a great deal of their peculiar, wild, mournful 
 music, according to the character of their labor. They 
 seemed to sing the music for the music's sake alone, and seemed 
 heedless of the fitness of the accompanying words. One mid- 
 dle aged man, with a powerful, mellow, clear voice, was the 
 musical leader of the party; he never seemed to bother him- 
 self about air, notes or words, but impressed all as he went 
 along; and he sang as the spirit moved him. He would sud- 
 denly break out with, 
 
 "Oh he's gone up dah, nevuh to come back again." 
 at this every darkey, within hearing, would break out, in ad- 
 mirable consonance with the pitch, air and time started by 
 the leader, "o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o !" Then would ring out from 
 the leader as from the throbbing lips of a silver trumpet, 
 
 "Lord bless him soul! I done hope he is happy now!" 
 and the two hundred would chant back "o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!" 
 and so on for hours. They never seemed to weary of singing 
 and we certainly did not of listening to them. The absolute 
 independence of the manner and tune and sentiment, gave 
 them freedom to wander through camp with harmonic effect, 
 as spontaneous and changeful as the song of a bird. 
 
 I have sat evening after evening, with some comrade and 
 listened to them sing and chant, long after the shadows of 
 night had fallen upon the hillside.
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 49 
 
 THE NEGRO SINGING AT NIGHT. 
 
 And the voice of his devotion 
 Filled my soul with strong emotion; 
 For its tones by turns were glad, 
 Sweetly solemn, wildly sad. 
 
 Paul and Silas, in their prison, 
 Sang of Christ, the Lord arisen, 
 And an earthquake's arm of might 
 Broke their dungeon gates at night. 
 But, alas what holy angel 
 Brings the slave this glad evangel? 
 And what earthquake's arm of might, 
 Breaks his prison gates at night? 
 
 The rebs tried every plan to discourage us, but that was of 
 no use to attempt such a thing, for we would not believe 
 them, and we well knew our condition could not be worse. 
 When Sherman was fighting at Atlanta we could get but lit- 
 tle news only through the rebel papers, but they pretended all 
 the time that Sherman's defeat was certain. 
 
 Next came news that Sherman had raised the seige and fal- 
 len back at the Chattahoohee, and we felt something of the 
 bitterness of despair for several days. 
 
 Therefore we heard nothing, though the hot, close summer 
 air seemed intense with a war storm about to burst, even as 
 nature heralds in the same way a concentration of the mighty 
 force of the elements for the grand crash of the thunder- 
 storm. We waited with intense expectancy for the decision 
 of the fates; whether final victory or defeat should end the 
 long and arduous campaign. At night the guards in the 
 perches around the stockade called out every half hour, so as 
 to show the officers that they were awake and attending to 
 4
 
 50 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 their duty. The form for this ran thus: "Post number 1; 
 half-past eight o'clock, and a-l-T-s w-e-1-1 !" Post No. 2 re- 
 peated this cry, and so it went around. 
 
 One evening when our anxiety as to Atlanta was wrought 
 to the highest pitch, one of the guards sang out. " Post No. 
 4; half past eight o'clock and Atlanta's-gone-to-h 1 !" 
 
 The heart of every man within hearing leaped upward. 
 We looked toward each other almost speechless with glad sur- 
 prise, and then cried out: " Did you hear that." The next 
 instant a ringing cheer burst out spontaneously from the 
 throats and hearts of men in the first ecstatic moments of 
 victory a cheer to which our sad hearts and enfeebled lungs 
 had long been strangers. It was the genuine, honest, manly 
 northern cheer, not like the rebel yell. But the shout was 
 taken up all over the prison, even those who had not heard the 
 guard understood that it meant Atlanta was ours, and fairly 
 won. 
 
 We had a time of rejoicing; we assembled together in dif- 
 ferent parts of the stockade and sung patriotic songs and 
 made speeches, and there was a general awakening in camp. 
 
 It set our thin blood to bounding, and made us remember 
 that we were Union soldiers, with higher hopes than that of 
 starving and dying in Andersonville. The rebels became 
 excited lest our exhaltation of spirit would lead to an assault 
 upon the stockade. They came out with arms and remained 
 so until the enthusiasm became less demonstrative. The 
 rebels would try to make us think we would soon be ex- 
 changed, which would cause some excitement, but all hope 
 would soon vanish, and the prisoners would exclaim: "No 
 exchange for us until we are exchanged to that eternal God's 
 country where
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 51 
 
 Sickness and sorrow, pain and death, 
 . Are felt and feared no more. 
 
 The wish for fame is faith in holy things 
 That soothe the life, and shall outlive the tomb. 
 A reverent listening for some angel wings 
 That come above the gloom. 
 
 The weather is now intensely hot and thousands of our 
 brave comrades have already descended into an untimely grave 
 within the, last few months^ and I believe their death was 
 caused by the filthy camp, and the want of good food and 
 water, proper medicine, and the breeding of lice on our 
 poor frames. I could see no alternative but we would all 
 very soon share the same untimely grave of our comrades. 
 Solemnity seemed to rest on the entire camp. Must this thing 
 go on? Is there no help? I had a great yearning to be up 
 and doing something to turn these golden hours to good, 
 pressed into heart and brain awakening to energetic life. But 
 this ambition had fled from thousands of our brave comrades. 
 
 The starving and the heat and the cruel rains sapped away 
 their stamina, and they could not recover it with the innutri- 
 tious diet of a -little coarse meal and an occasional scrap of 
 poor meat. Quick consumption, bronchitis, pneumonia, low 
 fever, scurvy and diarrhoaa seized upon these ready victims 
 for their ravages, and bore them off by the hundreds. The 
 appearance of the dead was indescribable. The unclosed eyes 
 shone with a stony glitter, the lips and nostrils were distorted 
 with pain and hunger. The dirty, grimed skin drawn tensely 
 over the bones, and the whole frame with the long, matted 
 hair and beard. As I have stated before, you could not tell 
 a dead man from the living when they were still, if it was 
 not for the breathing millions of lice swarming over the
 
 52 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 wasted limbs, face and eyes. These verminous pests had 
 become so numerous, as we had no change of clothing, and no 
 facilities for boiling even what we had. The best that any of 
 us could do was to keep the number reduced so they would 
 would not sap our blood at once. When a man became so 
 sick or poor as to be unable to help himself, he soon passed out. 
 The number of the lice would increase to multiplied millions. 
 I have heard prisoners say that they had seen a gallon of lice 
 on one dead man at one time. 
 
 No doubt but the biting of these horrible insects shortened 
 the lives of those who died. I wish to impress this on your 
 mind; think, for a moment, if you were as stout as Henan, 
 and you were cast in an open pen, such as I have described; 
 could a man live there? No. As the weather grew warmer 
 and the number in the prison increased, the lice became more 
 unendurable; they even filled the sand; and they would crawl 
 upon us like streams of ants running up a tree. I thought it 
 must be something like Egypt was when the Lord sent the 
 third plague. 
 
 "And the Lord said unto Moses say unto Aaron stretch out thy rod, 
 and smite the dirt 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, and all the 
 dust of the land became lice throughout all the land of Egypt. 1 ' 
 
 We could have gone through a sharp campaign, lasting 
 thirty days, and not lose so great a number of men as died in 
 AndersonviLle in the same length of time. A make shift of 
 a hospital was established inside the stockade. A small por- 
 tion of ground was divided from the rest of the prison by a 
 railing, and a few tent flies were stretched. And in those 
 they used pine boughs for beds. If a man was so sick that
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 53 
 
 he could not walk about and was taken in this hospital it 
 was sure death, and almost sudden. This was the sort of hos- 
 pital we had in Andersonville for our sick and dying comrades. 
 What was needed to bring about health was clean clothing, 
 nutritious food, shelter and freedom from the tortures of the 
 lice and from the sight of the horrors of such a prison. And 
 the sick was fed the same coarse corn meal which hurried the 
 poor wretch into eternity. They wore and slept in the same 
 vermin-infested clothing, and there could be but one result. 
 The establishment of the hospital was unfortunate for the 
 prisoners. The ground required for it compelled a general 
 reduction of the space we all occupied, for some who had 
 shanties built with pine boughs were now compelled to tear 
 them down and we were so crowded that we could scarcely all 
 lie down at the same time. 
 
 The chief causes of the deaths were the scurvy and its ef- 
 fects, and bowel affections chronic and acute diarrhoBa and 
 dysentary. The bowel affections appeared to have been due 
 to the diet, the dejected state of the nervous system and moral 
 and intellectual powers, and to the effluvia arising from the 
 filth of the prison. 
 
 The great disease of scurvy seemed to be prevalent; this dis- 
 ease, without a doubt was also caused, to a great extent, in its 
 origin and course, by the foul animal emanations. From the 
 sameness of the food and from the action of the poisonous 
 gases in the densely crowded and filthy stockade and hospital. 
 The blood was altered in its condition even before the mani- 
 festation of actual disease. 
 
 The most men that ever died in Andersonville was one man 
 every eleven minutes, except the night we had a severe rain 
 storm when two hundred perished. The boys would put in a
 
 54: A VETERANS STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 great deal of time killing lice and looking at their swollen 
 legs and feet and working with their sore arms, etc., etc. 
 
 One day my comrade, C. E. Tibbies, asked a poor fellow 
 what our feet and legs looked like? He replied 1 give it up. 
 Charley replied, they look like an Irish potato with two goose 
 quills sticking in it. 
 
 We did everything we could to keep the boys roused up 
 as we well knew that when despondency set in upon them 
 that death was the inevitable result.
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 55 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Terrible Suffering Trying to Effect an Exchange A Novel way of Con- 
 cealing Escaped Prisoners Escape of Three Overtaken by Blood 
 Hounds and Recaptured The Rebels try to Enlist the Prisoners of 
 Andersonville into the Rebel Army. 
 
 "On Fame's eternal camping ground 
 
 Their silent tents are spread, 
 While Glory guards with solemn round, 
 
 The bivouac of the dead." 
 
 DEAR reader, although it is now more than twenty years 
 ago, I cannot recur to these horrors without gloomy feel- 
 ings; I have seen hundreds of poor men sitting about the 
 prison, with their legs buried in the sand, to keep them from 
 bursting, they were so swollen with the scurvy; and I have often 
 seen poor, starved skeletons pick up old dry bones from the 
 sand and boil them to make soup. Reader it is worse to ex- 
 perience these suffering than to read of them. I have experi- 
 enced allthat I have written, and more than I can ever tell, 
 and therefore I take no man's word for it. I will here relate 
 an instance portraying the undying patriotism of those suffer- 
 ing prisoners. We held a meeting while at Andersonville, 
 by permission of the rebel authorities, and there appointed 
 five delegates to go to Washington to see if they could not 
 effect an exchange. The terms upon which the rebels agreed 
 to exchange where these: "The union Government was to re- 
 lease all their prisoners held by the North, and the rebels to 
 release all held by them, the excess held by the Union army 
 to be paroled." When those terms were made known to the
 
 56 A VETERAN'S STORX OF THE WAR. 
 
 prisoners, it was upon the day appointed by the delegates to 
 start, and when they started, the prisoners called after them 
 as long as they could make them hear, u Tell old Abe never 
 to back down for us, we can stand it until Sherman comes, 
 for we would rather die than back down to rebs," etc., etc. 
 I have known some of the prisoners to get paints of the guards 
 and make ten-dollar greenback bills and trade them to the rebs 
 for good money or something to eat one dollar in greenbacks 
 being worth ten dollars in Confederate money and many 
 other little things they resorted to, which might be tiresome 
 to the reader. 
 
 It finally became necessary to have a large force of men 
 to bury the dead, as those who were already detailed were far 
 behind in the interment of the bodies, and the rebs got afraid 
 that they would create a pestilence in their own camps; 
 another detail was therefore made, and I managed to get my- 
 self and some of my comrades placed upon it. As it was impos- 
 sible for a man to work on the rations issued in the prison, 
 the grave-diggers were allowed double rations. We were 
 placed upon their parole and allowed to go anywhere within 
 a mile of their grave-yard. The arms of the working parties 
 soon became very sore from the eff cts of the foul vaccination, 
 but rather than go back into the pestilential stockade they 
 would swing the pick with one arm; even when so sick we 
 could not eat what little rations we received. Some of the pris- 
 oners were continually breaking out of the stockade and for a 
 long time the diggers succeeded in effectually concealing them 
 in rather a novel way: there was always a long line of dead 
 bodies awaiting burial, and when a prisoner came to us, we 
 would shove some of the dead bodies slightly apart and put 
 the escaped and living skeleton between them, and when his
 
 A VETERAH'S STORY OF THE WAR. 57 
 
 eyes were closed he could not be distinguished from the dead. 
 The rebels put all of us in the stockade to make us tell where 
 we hid those who had escaped, but no one ever divulged it. 
 So when night came on we would give the escaped prisoners 
 our rations and start them on their way. One day a rebel 
 officer, a lieutenant, came to us and proposed for us to break 
 our parole and run away to our lines with him, as he knew 
 the country, and we must also insure him good treatment 
 when once within our lines; but after taking the matter 
 under consideration, we decided not to do it; this same lieu- 
 tenant gave one of us a jacket and did all he could for us. 
 Many of the diggers did escape, and finally the rebs released 
 us from our parole and placed a guard over us. Our con- 
 science being now free, we began to meditate seriously upon 
 an escape. An opportunity soon presented itself. The rebs 
 had formed guard lines around the grave-yard; but covered 
 wagons were used to bring dead bodies from the prison. Two 
 of the diggers were placed in each wagon upon its return to 
 the stockade, and the curtains being tied down, two of us 
 would slip out while on the road on the first trip, and hid in 
 the swamp near by until the next trip, when another comrade 
 and a fellow-prisoner followed us, and we Immediately took up 
 our line of march for '"God's country.' 1 ' 1 Our path lay for 
 miles through a swamp, and at every step we would stick in 
 the mire knee deep, except when we could step upon the roots 
 of swamp brush. Sometimes one would stick fast, and the 
 rest of us would pull him out as best we could by the aid of 
 the swamp willows. Although weak and diseased, we toiled 
 on all night long; the "North Star" and the "Big Dipper" 
 were our guides. 
 C. E. Tibbies, George N. Tibbies and myself have gone
 
 58 A VETERAN S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 together all through the war, and were in prison together, and 
 were now trying to make our escape from Andersonville 
 together; but knew not how far we would get. 
 
 After traveling all night through the swamp and brush 
 land, and crossing several fields, we were very tired, and sat 
 down upon some fallen trees to rest for a few minutes; but had 
 only got comfortably settled when we heard the baying of the 
 hounds; we knew then that our enemies were close upon us; 
 we darted into the dark forest and ran ; we were very weak, 
 but we ran some fifteen miles before we stopped. On and on 
 came the deep-mouthed baying of the hounds, but it was 
 difficult for them to make way through the swamp. The 
 sounds became fainter, and seemed to die away in the distance. 
 We now continued flight; we passed through hog pens, stock 
 yards, and ran back and forth to destroy our trail; we also 
 ran through deep sand, hoping when we pulled out our feet 
 the sand would fill in and cover our scent. We urged our 
 fast failing strength and pushed on until morning, when we 
 found ourselves upon the border of a large plantation, and 
 people moving about. We dare not cross for fear of discover- 
 ing ourselves to the occupants of this place. So we laid our- 
 selves down in a small piece of timber, hoping to escape notice 
 until night should give us cover to move on. During the 
 forenoon we saw some negroes and a white man coming 
 directly towards our hiding place. We concealed ourselves as 
 best we could. They came very near, and the white man 
 said, pointing to a small tree. "Here, boys, this will do." 
 The negroes soon cut the tree down, and the top of it fell 
 upon the bushes beneath which we were hiding, but only 
 served to hide us more completely from view. In a few hours 
 we saw a negro approaching us again, upon his shoulder he
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 59 
 
 bore an ax. He came up to within fifteen feet of us, and 
 looked at us for some time. When C. E. Tibbies raised up 
 and started towards him the negro raised his ax. We then 
 told him that we were his friends, and charged him to tell no 
 one that we were there. He said he would not, and left us. 
 We changed our position a little, and cut each man a good 
 stout club. We were making calculations upon crossing the 
 river below Sherman's army that night, when we would be 
 safe. 
 
 Just about sunset we were congratulating ourselves on 
 having given the hounds the slip, when the distant baying 
 sent a thrill of horror through us all. Andersonville was before 
 us again, with all its dead and dying; our blood stood still. 
 Nearer and near came the yelping of the hounds. We must 
 do something. We ran from our hiding place and agreed if 
 they pressed us too closely we would scatter, and every man 
 take care of himself. We had not half cleared the field when 
 the hounds were upon us, what were we to do? it was too 
 late to scatter now. Perplexing as was our situation, we 
 could not keep down a hearty laugh. The rebels had started 
 with forty hounds, but ten had given out in the swamp. The 
 hounds came up and attacked us savagely. We kept them 
 from tearing us with our clubs. Here came the keepers on 
 well jaded horses, for we had traveled over forty miles from 
 late the evening before. We were now upon the fence, fight- 
 ing the dogs off with our clubs. The brutal keepers ordered 
 us to get down. We told them to call off their dogs and then 
 we would. They said they were ordered to let the dogs tear 
 us, at the same time drawing their revolvers. We told them 
 to shoot, that we would as lief be shot as to return to Ander- 
 sonville. One was about to shoot, but was reminded that if
 
 60 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 he shot and killed any of us, he would lose his one hundred 
 dollars reward, which was always paid for capturing an 
 escaped prisoner. Still it seemed we were to die at the hands 
 of the men and thirty hounds, but we determined we would 
 fight with our last breath. 
 
 "For, how can a man die better, 
 
 Than facing fearful odds 
 For the ashes of his fathers 
 
 4nd the temples of his gods." 
 
 As an instance of the patriotism of our soldiers, I wish here 
 to cite a circumstance of prison life: 
 
 At one time the rebel leaders endeavored to enlist the 
 prisoners in Andersonville into the rebel army. One day we 
 were ordered to form into companies, with the proper officers 
 of each company and division in their places, and to march 
 outside the prison walls. We were very much excited many 
 thought we were to be exchanged. We could not divine 
 what it was for, until we were regularly formed outside, when 
 a rebel officer mounted a stump and began a speech to us. He 
 informed us that the United States Government had left us to 
 our fate; that McClelland and other Union generals had said 
 that they could get along without us; that the Confederacy 
 was sure to succeed; that the Northern people cared nothing 
 about us, and would never try to rescue 'us. Then followed 
 an appeal to us to no longer endure the prison pen, but to 
 join the rebel army, and each of us should have a farm when 
 the Union army was whipped. No sooner was he understood, 
 than the sergeant of our division sprang out and shouted: 
 Attention, First Division ! This was repeated down the line 
 by hundreds of other sergeants. He shouted: First Division, 
 About! This was repeated by thousands, as one voice. Then
 
 A VETERANS STOEY OF THE WAE. 
 
 61 
 
 he said : Face ! Then by the thousands we all turned on our 
 heels and came to order. Forward, march! We marched 
 back into the pen, one division after another, and left the 
 orator standing on the stump. Here we view another instance 
 of the devotion of our boys in blue. The rebels were greatly 
 provoked at the failure of their venture, and showed it by 
 coming into our pen* in armed squads on the pretense of look- 
 ing for spades and shovels, and destroyed our shanties, stole 
 our blankets, or anything else they wanted.
 
 62 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Return to Prison Punishment Confederate Government Knew of the 
 Treatment at Andersonville Jeff Davis Accessory to the Murder of 
 Thirteen Thousand Prisoners of War. 
 
 "How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, 
 By all their country's wishes blest! 
 By fairy hands their knell is rung, 
 By forms unseen their dirge is sung, 
 Their honor comes a pilgrim gray 
 To bless the turf that wraps their clay; 
 And freedom shall a while repair, 
 To dwell a weeping hermit there." 
 
 T UNGRY and disheartened, we were marched back to our 
 I* * prison pen. We were marched fifteen miles the first 
 night, which took nearly all night. We were furnished 
 with no food on this trip. I shall not try to describe the 
 sufferings and abuse we endured. Upon reaching the prison, 
 we were immediately taken before Captain Wirze, at his head- 
 quarters. Directly in front of his headquarters he had 
 erected a scaffold, upon which to hang some recaptured 
 prisoners. As we marched up he raised his head, and looking 
 us over, inquired: "Where is that Will Crandall? I gives 
 five hundred tollars for that Will Crandall." Crandall was a 
 prisoner who escaped the evening before we did; he was sub- 
 sequently caught. We told him we knew nothing of Cran- 
 dall. Then he turned his vicious, small eyes upon us and be- 
 gan to curse us, and said: "I makes a hell for you. You 
 shall bury all the prisoners who die," meaning the forty of us,
 
 A VETEBAN'S STOKY OF THE WAR. 63 
 
 and we were to work on half rations, and he said that he 
 would keep us in the stocks at night, and that we should stay 
 in the stocks thirty days after the other prisoners had gone 
 home. This was a hard sentence. The stocks would have 
 caused death in less than ten days, but the fear of death had 
 long departed, death on every hand had become so familiar 
 that he seemed a friend to the poor, wretched shadows that 
 we were. We did not, however, have to endure this long. I 
 wish to state what was meant by "stocks." Two planks 
 made to fit the neck, wrists and ankles, which were keyed up 
 tight; with the apparatus adjusted, a man could not sit down 
 nor lie down. Another mode of punishment should be de- 
 scribed here. It consisted of chaining ten or fifteen men to- 
 gether, with a twenty-four pound cast ball attached to each 
 man, in the center was a cast ball of one hundred and sixty 
 pounds, to which each man was chained. ' This also soon 
 caused death. 
 
 About 9 A. M. we were sent to dig graves, with a guard of 
 forty men placed over us. We dug trenches about one hun- 
 dred and sixty feet long and three feet deep, and at the bot- 
 tom of this we dug a vault of one foot in depth. Jake Hela- 
 maker, of Ohio, and myself split slabs and placed one over 
 each of our dead. We also, as far as could be done, placed a 
 board with regiment, company and name. The reader is well 
 aware that it is no small task to bury one hundred and twenty 
 men each day; that was about the number carried out every 
 morning. So badly would they decompose during the interval 
 between death and burial that often we found, when we at- 
 tempted to lift them, that the skin slipped from the flesh, and 
 often the flesh cleared from the bone, for most of the poor fel- 
 lows were suffering from scurvy. The flesh of these bodies
 
 64 A VETERAN'S STOBY OF THE WAR. 
 
 was soft and very black by the time it reached the grave diggers. 
 Here comes a government wagon piled full of our brave boys; 
 thrown into the wagon like a lot of dead swine, to be as rudely 
 thrown out again on their arrival at the burial ground. 
 
 We were so starved now in the pen that we were glad to 
 catch mice, bugs, grasshoppers, crickets, or anything that 
 could be eaten, and woe to the unfortunate dog or cat that 
 ventured within our reach; nothing is too bad for starving 
 men to eat. Murder is tame when compared to the acts of 
 these Southern fiends. I wish in the following pages to give 
 a statement as evidence in support of what I have said regard- 
 ing this prison, and the infamous purpose of the prison gen- 
 eral commanding, General F. H. Winder, the commanding 
 officer in charge of the post, some months after the close of 
 war. Captain Henry Wirze, a subordinate, having immedi- 
 ate command of the prison, was arraigned before a military 
 court in Washington for brutal treatment and unnecessary 
 cruelty to his prisoners. The facts we have here stated were 
 corroborated by many Union soldiers, summoned as witnesses, 
 and he was found guilty of such base cruelty that he was 
 sentenced and hung. C. E. Tibbies, one of our squad who 
 had received such base treatment from Wirze, had the pleas- 
 ure of giving his testimony against him, and of seeing his 
 execution. But more valuable testimony, considering the 
 source from which it emanated, was given by Colonel D. T. 
 Chandler, formerly inspector general in the rebel service. 
 The following is an extract from an official report from this 
 officer, addressed to Colonel Chilton, at Richmond, under date 
 of August 5, 1864: 
 
 "My duty requires me to respectfully recommend a change in the 
 officer in command of the post, by putting in a substitute in Brigadier
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 65 
 
 General Winder's place, one who will unite both energy and good 
 judgment, with some feeling of humanity and consideration for the 
 welfare and comfort (as far as is consistent with their safe keeping) 
 of the vast number of unfortunates placed under his control, some one 
 who will not advocate deliberately, and in cold blood, the propriety of 
 leaving them in their present condition, until their number has been 
 sufficiently reduced by death to make the present arrangement suffice 
 for their accommodation. Who will not consider it a matter of self- 
 laudation boasting that he has never been inside the stockade a 
 place the horror of which it is difficult to describe, and which is a dis- 
 grace to civilization, the condition of which he might (by the exercise 
 of a little energy and judgment) even with the limited means at his 
 command, have considerably improved." 
 
 Colonel Chandler, upon being called to the stand, verified 
 the foregoing statement, or report, adding that he had 
 nothing to retract, and further stated that during his in- 
 spection he had a conversation with General Winder, who 
 seemed very indifferent to the wellfare of the prisoners, 
 and was .not disposed to do anything. He remonstrated 
 with Winder as best he could. He spoke of the great 
 mortality, and suggested that as the sickly season was coming 
 on, the swamp should be drained, and better food furnished, 
 and other sanitary measures adopted. But Winder replied to 
 him that he thought it would be better to let one-half die, so 
 they could take care of the remainder. Chandler's assistant, 
 Major Hall, had previously reported that Winder had made a 
 simple statement to him, and upon Chandler's remarking that 
 he thought this incredible, Major Hall said Winder had re- 
 peated that expression to him several times. 
 
 So this certainly shows that the rebel government in Rich- 
 mond was made officially cognizant of the barbarities com- 
 mitted at Andersonville, and of the condition of the prisoners 
 5
 
 66 
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 at Belle Isle, and had been so immediately under their eyes 
 that ignorance could not possibly have been pleaded. The 
 conclusion seemed inevitable that they deliberately approved 
 of the measures adopted by the commanding officers at both 
 places.
 
 A "VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 67 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A Change of Prisons Escape at Belle Isle Living on Green Corn The 
 Swamps Blood Hounds Despair in the Swamps. 
 
 Press on ! If once and twice thy feet 
 Slip back and stumble, harder try; 
 From him who never dreads to meet 
 Danger and death, they're sure to fly. 
 To coward ranks the bullet speeds, 
 While on their breast who never quail, 
 Gleams, guardian of chivalric deeds, 
 Bright courage, like a coat of mail. 
 
 '"PHE reader, no doubt, will be convinced by tbe foregoing 
 L proof of the complicity of Davis and his cabinet in this 
 wholesale murder department of the Southern Confed- 
 eracy. 
 
 We must now give our attention to grave-yard and prison, 
 where we were last seen digging graves for murdered com- 
 rades. We were not working here many days until we could 
 notice a degree of restlessness among the guards. We soon 
 learned that the rebels feared a raid from Sherman on Ander- 
 sonville, which I often thought could have been accomplished. 
 So one day there came orders to send a part of the prisoners 
 to Florence, S. C. We were taken with others, and placed 
 upon the cars. We were informed that we were to be 
 exchanged, which was merely done to taunt us. Captain 
 
 Wirze came to us and said, " You , you think you 
 
 are going to get off, but I have sent orders for you to be placed 
 upon the same rations you enjoyed here. I will learn you 
 how to run away,"
 
 68 A VETERAN S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 Tibbies and myself were on the lookout for a chance to 
 escape; our sentence still hung over us; our two days 1 rations 
 were exhausted; nine hundred men upon the train, and noth- 
 ing to eat. Tibbies and myself had been fortunate enough to 
 obtain some rice from the guards at Andersonville, having 
 traded with them for a small supply before starting. This 
 rice was all we had for two days, until we reached Florence, 
 on the 16th of September, 1864. Here they took us off of our 
 train and guarded us. Tibbies and I went all around and 
 through the crowd of prisoners and tried to get them to make 
 a dash upon our guards. I offered to take the gun from 
 either of the guards, but the prisoners were so deeply discour- 
 aged that they would only laugh at us. Many of our boys 
 thought we could never reach the Union line if we were 
 turned loose. I, in common with others, thought it was life 
 or death with us, and I determined I would not go inside the 
 stockade at Florence. 
 
 G. N. Tibbies managed to slip out past the guards, got a 
 woman to bake him a corn cake, and then came back inside 
 the guard line, and three of us ate half of it, the rest was put 
 away in our haversacks, to be used on our journey. For we 
 determined to go through the lines and escape, or leave our 
 dead bodies as a memento of our last attempt. 
 
 We had been fortunate enough to find a map. We studied 
 it, and decided to strike for Newbern, N. C. We thought 
 from looking over our map it must be about three hundred 
 miles up the coast, and thought we could find enough raw 
 corn in the fields to live on, and determined we would not ask 
 for any thing to eat on this trip, or speak to any one, but 
 pursue a northernly course and travel by night. But, 
 great heavens! as we concluded our arrangements, they began
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 69 
 
 to move us to the stockade. Something must be done. As 
 we turned a curve in the road the guards were a little too 
 far apart C. E. Tibbies, G. N. Tibbies and myself darted into 
 the brush, ran a few yards into a' strip of undergrowth, when 
 we found the railroad in front and the wagon road in the 
 rear. Many men were going to and from the prison. Here 
 we dropped down and laid as flat on the leaves as we could. 
 We laid here until near sunset, when a rebel came up within 
 twenty feet of us, and looked directly at us a short time, he 
 then turned and went away. So soon as he was out sight we 
 sprang to our feet and ran across the railroad. By this time 
 he was back to the place we had left with an armed guard to 
 take us back. 
 
 We ran with all the speed we could, while shouts of the 
 soldiers behind us to halt, the ping of the bullet as it struck 
 over our heads, or tore through the thickets, only had the 
 effect to increase our speed. On and on we ran, out into the 
 dismal swamp. Here we began to. breath easier, and about 
 dark we fell in with another fugitive, who informed us that 
 his name was Charles F. Davis. We now came to a field of 
 corn, where we ate our fill, and gathered as much as we could, 
 which we lived on almost altogether for the succeeding three 
 or four days* We had a portion of the cake which the woman 
 had baked for Tibbies, this delicacy we wished to save for 
 future use, for "Coming events cast their shadows before." 
 But we did eat a piece of cake about as large as a silver dollar 
 each day. 
 
 We now came to the river called the Big Piney on the 
 fourth day; this river we must cross; we feared the bridge, 
 for it was likely to be guarded. While we were undecided 
 what to do, we suddenly discovered a negro in the bush,
 
 70 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 within a few feet of us. The negro seeing we were all alarmed 
 said, u Go on, raassa; go on, God bless you." When we dis- 
 covered that he was friendly, we eagerly inquired of him 
 which way we had better go, and whether the bridge was 
 guarded. He informed us that there was a guard of five hun- 
 dred at the bridge, and death would be certain if we attempted 
 to cross there. But he gave us directions by which we crossed 
 the river in safety. Once across the river we looked for and 
 found, our old friend, the u North Star," which has guided so 
 many of our poor boys through swamp and canebrake to God's 
 country. 
 
 Shortly after getting our bearing, we were greeted by the 
 baying of hounds. Soon a whole pack of them came bound- 
 ing, wide-mouthed upon us. We fought as only men know 
 how to fight whose lives are at stake. We fought the dogs 
 with clubs, and it was with great difficulty we beat them off. 
 We would strike until we were ready to fall with exhaustion. A 
 man living on raw corn does not develop very great strength, 
 and it is a wonder how we could fight off these hounds in our 
 weakened condition; but we did finally beat them off, and got 
 away from them. We dared not build a fire for fear the 
 smoke would attract attention, so we ate our corn raw. We 
 determined never to grace another rebel prison. We were now 
 traveling through a dense thicket or swamp, which was thickly 
 grown with long green briars, which grew across the paths 
 and open spaces through which we made our way, and tore 
 our clothes, and lacerated our flesh as we hurried on in the 
 darkness. 
 
 Morning came at last, and all day long we traveled through 
 swamp, thicket and bog; bog, thicket and swamp. Now we 
 could not see the stars, so thick and tall was the undergrowth,
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 71 
 
 except we look directly up at the heavens through the chinks 
 of the over-hanging growth of swamp brush and briars, so we 
 concluded we would try the road. We decided to send one of 
 our number on, as an advance guard, twenty steps ahead of 
 the rest, and if our advance was fired upon it would give the 
 rest some chance to escape without being seen. We traveled 
 in this fashion for sixteen days and nights. Sometimes when 
 it was too light to travel in the roads, and too dark to travel in 
 the swamp, we would lie down and take a little sleep until 
 the night grew darker, when we would return to the road. 
 We only slept three nights out of the sixteen. The first two 
 nights we did not lie down at all. One of these nights I felt 
 we were going in the wrong direction, but the others would 
 not listen to me; but when we saw the morning star we 
 found we were going wrong, and then we changed our course 
 northeast. On and on, there seemed no end to the swamps, 
 and our sufferings; starving, weak and trembling, our courage 
 and the hope of again seeing the land of the free and the 
 home of the brave alone supported us in these, our last trials. 
 
 One night we came to water, it was a very dark night, and 
 we followed along the shore untilwe came to what seemed to 
 be a bridge; leading up to the bridge were steps, upon which 
 we mounted and crossed on the slab-covered tressle, which 
 seemed to be about thirty feet above the water; so dark was 
 it we could not see the structure on which we walked or 
 rather felt our way. The farther end of this bridge seemed 
 to end in the tree tops. We finally came to the shore 
 in safety, although we had feared guards would be there to 
 intercept us. 
 
 We were now about thirty miles from Wilmington, N. C., and 
 the intervening country was very low and nearly all swamp.
 
 72 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 These swamps are very desolate, and almost devoid of sun- 
 shine, the trees are covered with the clinging vines peculiar to 
 this climate, which shut out the light of day. I believe there 
 are bears and other wild animals capable of taking the life of 
 man which live in these swamps. We where chased by a large 
 grizzly bear one day for quite a distance but by careful watch- 
 ing we evaded him and escaped this dangerous foe. He fol- 
 lowed us three miles. 
 
 We could not tell when we were nearing a rebel camp until 
 we would see a rebel picket. One morning, just before day- 
 light, we came to one and we all drew our clubs, and was in 
 the act of killing him, when he spoke to us, and so friendly, 
 too, that we passed on. He thought we were rebels, of course, 
 going into camp, as what clothes we had on were of rebel uni- 
 form. But we concluded to go round the rebel camp this 
 time. One evening about sunset we discovered a terrible 
 storm arising, and we went to the road and traveled on, and 
 in a short time we discovered a man run across the road from 
 a barn, and in a moment the storm was dashing and raging 
 furiously. We ran for the barn, and by this time the 
 air was full of trash, limbs, lumber and streaks of light- 
 ning. The storm very nearly demolished the barn, but we re- 
 mained unhurt. As soon as practicable we resumed our weary 
 march onward. We soon approached a small village, it being 
 just after dark, we passed on along through the streets. We 
 could see the citizens in groups looking at us, and soon after 
 we passed out of town, we perceived they had gathered 
 together quite a company of men and were pursuing us; but 
 we started on the Indian trot and were soon lost to their 
 view in the deep forests filled with greeiibriers, vines and 
 brush, until it really looked impossible for anything to pen-
 
 A VETERAH'S STORY OF THE WAR. 73 
 
 etrate the swamp but wild beasts. So they soon gave up the 
 chase not wishing to be torn by the briers, as we were com- 
 pelled to be. 
 
 We traveled on and the next day as we had traveled 
 through swamps, and had had no chance to get ourselves any 
 corn to eat, we were getting very weak and faint; along in the 
 afternoon we crossed a deep gulch on a small pole. It was 
 with difficulty that we crossed at all, and as soon as we 
 crossed we came out at a cross roads, and there stood a 
 rebel picket guard. We turned instantly and ran across the 
 pole without the least difficulty, we ran about forty rods and 
 then crossed again and ran on and were soon away into a 
 swampy desert, with blood hounds and rebels pursuing us. 
 On we went a tearing through the long green briers. We 
 could distinctly hear the blood hounds on our trail. We ran 
 on and on until our strength was all exhausted, and our feet 
 and legs torn and bleeding. Our.pants were nearly all torn 
 off of us, and we had had nothing to eat since the day before, 
 and had traveled all night and ran nearly all day and could 
 not get even raw corn to eat, nor no water. 0! my pen re- 
 fuses to portray our sufferings, bleeding and torn, starving 
 and famishing. All hope of life had now vanished from us. 
 We reeled and fainted and fell, and as we fell it was near a ' 
 large mossy old stump. One of the party who had claimed that 
 he did not believe the Bible when we were in prison, now 
 whispered and said: "let us all pray our best.' 1 Now here we 
 lay starving and dying and weeping like lost children; for we 
 had suffered and toiled so much, and then to have to die there 
 away in the swamps, be eaten up by wild beasts and our friends 
 neveii know what had become of us. A vision of mine that 
 God had revealed to me before the war. Things had come to
 
 74 A VETERAN S STORY OP THE WAR. 
 
 pass just as it was pictured out to me then, and I fully be- 
 lieved at that time that it was a warning from God to me. It 
 deeply impressed my mind then and for sometime after, for 
 you know the blessed Bible teaches us that God warns his 
 people of danger and delivers those that put their trust in 
 him.
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 75 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Still Fleeing through Swamps No Food for Thirty-eight Hours Still 
 Pursued by Blood-hounds A Rain brings Relief and Destroys their 
 Trail. 
 
 Ask not the wanderers after our fate, 
 
 Our being, birth or name; 
 Enough that all have shared our state, 
 And we are still the same. 
 
 Green briers and thorns our life has torn, 
 
 Still strives our souls within, 
 While care, pain, and sorrow show, 
 
 That we starved and perished in the swamps. 
 
 WHILE lying there in that swamp, I offered the prayer to 
 God that Peter offered when he was sinking in the 
 water, "Lord save or we perish." But I continued on 
 thusly, u but not my will, but thine be done. 1 ' My faith in 
 God to save me was unwavering, though all other hopes had 
 failed. While we were yet lying there weeping and praying 
 in our hearts, for we never spoke a loud word for fifteen 
 days in all our conversation, we just whispered, our suffering 
 was intense. C. E. Tibbies remarked that u we had just as 
 well die here." But I replied, that " we had just as well die 
 walking along as lying here." But hark! Listen! we again 
 hear the bloodthirsty troop in pursuit of us. In an instant 
 we are on our feet, and each man took his own course 
 through the swamps like so many wild beasts fleeing from 
 the hunter. I never expected to see my comrades again in
 
 76 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 this life. On and on \\e fled through the dense forest of 
 green hriers and swamp brush, when all at once we found 
 ourselves come together in one squad again. In a short 
 time a cloud passed over, and it rained quite a shower. It 
 was now about 5 o'clock in the evening, and we licked the 
 leaves for the water on them and hunted little cups, and got 
 a little water out of them, and this was the first water we had 
 had for twenty-four hours. That little shower gave us water 
 and washed our tracks until the hounds could not track us, 
 consequently they were compelled to give us up. We traveled 
 on until dark with our legs bleeding and naked, they were so 
 torn by the briers. It was now dark and we were all wet, 
 running through the wet brush, and seemingly we were about 
 the center of the swamp, and it was very wet and muddy, and 
 we stuck sticks in the ground and sucked up some water. It 
 was now so dark, and the briers, brush and vines were so thick 
 we could not see to get through; as we could not see the 
 north star, we could not tell the direction so we all lay 
 down there in the wet arid mud with our limbs on the wet 
 ground. Here we lie shivering, starving skeletons; we had 
 had no food for thirty-eight hours. I felt that no power 
 could save us but the power of God. 
 
 And I felt that I did not care much only to live to tell my 
 friends where I had been, and try to serve God. Now while 
 we lay there piled up in that muddy swamp our sufferings 
 were so great that I have no idea that we will ever suffer more 
 or half so much the day of our death as we suffered that day 
 and night. My mind was in heaven with my dear angel 
 mother, that went up there when I was a small boy and then 
 with my old father in Iowa. It seemed to me that I could 
 feel a stream of love flitting from heaven to me and from me
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 77 
 
 to my father in Iowa. My father afterwards told me, when 
 I got home, that that night he could not sleep, that it was 
 impressed on his mind that I was about to perish and he got 
 up out of bed and asked God to save me. Every time he 
 would lie down in bed that night the same whispering would 
 come to him, until he got up and prayed three times. It 
 seemed to me that I could feel the flitting of angel's wings 
 hovering over me. 1 thought perhaps that angels had come 
 to conduct my spirit home, but they had only come to encour- 
 age me in my perilous position. We lay there in the wet and 
 shivered all night and it looks unreasonable to say, when it 
 was daylight that we could stand on our feet. Tremblingly I 
 could say, " Oh Lord, thou hast brought up my soul from the 
 grave. Thou hast kept me alive, that I should not go down 
 into the pit." Psalms xxx, 3rd verse. As soon as it was light 
 we started again on our march, though we were faint, weak 
 and sore. We soon heard a negro calling hogs. We pressed 
 our weary steps toward him as rapidly as possible, but lo, we 
 soon saw when we went near, that we could get no corn there 
 without being seen. Therefore we were compelled to travel 
 on about four miles, around a large farm and across another 
 dense swamp and crossing it we immediately came to a corn 
 field and negro peas. We grabed peas and filled our mouths 
 until we got some corn husked, and then sat down and ate 
 three ears apiece in less than twenty minutes. This was 
 about the first time we had sat down to eat. While here we 
 soon heard the hounds coming up the swamp. We resolved 
 if they pursued us we would slay them with clubs. 
 
 When we found that they had passed our tracks, we felt as 
 though we were safe, at least, for a while, we supposed they 
 were after a fox; we soon resumed our march. The corn we
 
 78 A VETERAN S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 had been eating was dry and hard; we traveled on around the 
 plantation and presently came to a house, the yard was full of 
 little rebs playing, and between the fence and the house there 
 was a late roasting-ear patch; the corn was in good roasting- 
 ear, C. E. Tibbies and I said we would have some of that soft 
 corn, and over the fence we went, our haversacks were soon 
 filled, which was indeed a treat to us we passed on and soon 
 were in a dense forest and wilderness of brush and green 
 briers, a feasting on our raw corn. It was a feast indeed. 
 No picnic dinner ever tasted so good to me. God blessed it and 
 kept us by his power. 
 
 One evening about dusk we felt as though we were in a 
 critical place, we soon found- a negro that informed us that 
 rebs were thick going through the country and we concluded 
 to seek a place to hide until a late hour, so we slipped up to 
 an old fodder-house and went in. It was about one hundred 
 yards from the house; and in a short time a great racket com- 
 menced at the house and we could discover men maneuvering 
 around the house; we did not shut our eyes, for we were 
 taught to watch as well as pray. We supposed they were 
 having a rebel hoedown, but we had no idea of taking part 
 with them. However we discovered a squad approaching us, 
 we supposed they intended to press us into the service; but 
 as they neared the fodder-house door we leaped out of the 
 window, which was in the back part of the fodder-house. 
 We were soon out in the swamps. It was Egyptian darkness. 
 ]n a short time after we struck the road and was going along 
 we heard the clatter of sabres and horses feet. It was the 
 rebel cavalry; they came in hearing so suddenly that we 
 leaped about fifteen feet and lay down in the brush until they 
 passed and got up and again resumed our journey.
 
 A VETERAN'S STOKY OF THE WAR. 79 
 
 It soon began to rain and continued on until the next 
 evening, and as it was still raining, we had had no chance 
 to get any corn to eat. We were drenched with the rain, and 
 were starving and dying by inches. We now happened to-hear 
 a negro coming through the woods singing. George Tibbies 
 said if we would stop and remain where we were, he would go 
 and see if that negro could give us aid, by helping or giving 
 us something to eat, and by telling us how to cross the large 
 river that we were now approaching. But the negro told him 
 that they could not get enough to eat themselves; and he 
 would be glad to help us if he could. But he informed us 
 how to cross the river; so we went down an old by-road, the 
 rain falling in torrents, and we were staggering with weak- 
 ness and were nearly exhausted, and would have given up 
 and died, but life seemed dear to us for we wanted to see our 
 friends, and be buried with God's people. The sufferings of 
 this night will never be erased from my memory. We 
 toiled on through the Egyptian darkness, water, mud and 
 rain, until we came to the river, and was there piloted across 
 by a negro; as soon as we were on the other side we found 
 a patch of corn, and were soon feasting upon it. Shortly after- 
 ward we found another negro, and he said they had killed 
 a hog a few days ago and had not eaten it because it was some- 
 what spoiled, and he would sell us a piece. So we bought 
 about one pound and it was green and slick. But we gave 
 him a five dollar bill for it, and ate it with our corn. 
 
 One day we were traveling through the swamps, and we 
 saw two other men that had made their escape from prison, 
 and as we approached another river, these two men said they 
 intended to go to the bridge to cross. We crossed the rivers 
 generally wherever we came to them, for we shunned the
 
 80 
 
 A VETERANS STOEY OF THE WAR. 
 
 bridges for fear of the rebels. We told them we wouldn't 
 go, but they went, and in a few minutes after they left us 
 we heard a volley of musketry in the direction of the bridge, 
 and as we never saw or heard of them again, we supposed they 
 were shot by rebel guards.
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 81 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 G. N. Tibbies Finds One Large Sweet Potato Still on the Tramp and 
 Meet a Rebel Negro Home at Last The Prisoner's Lwnent. 
 
 WE came to a river one day that we were afraid to cross. 
 We wandered along the bank dreading it, for we were so 
 weak, and the river so wide and swift, and seemed to be full 
 of whirlpools that would take a man under. Finally we con- 
 cluded that we must cross, so we stripped off all our clothes, 
 and done them up in as small a bundle as we could, then C. 
 E. Tibbies, being an expert swimmer, leaped into the foaming 
 waters, swam to the middle of the river and dropped down, 
 but could not touch bottom there, but hunted around and 
 finally found a place where the two of us that could not swim 
 could cross by leaping up and jumping and so we crossed with 
 great difficulty. When Davis, from New York was nearly 
 across he began to sink, but George Tibbies caught him and 
 helped him out and thereby saved his life. 
 - We toiled on through the swamps until we were exhausted, 
 weary and nearly fainting, fell in despair. It seemed as 
 though we could find no cornfield, and Gr. N. Tibbies said in 
 a whisper to us to stay there, and he would go and see if he 
 could not find something for us to eat, and he went and 
 returned with one large sweet potato. We ate part of it, and 
 saved the rest to eat with raw corn. We ran across a negro 
 that day and asked him for information, and he said he was a 
 rebel. We urged him not to say anything about seeing us, 
 he said he would not if we didn't want him to; we assured 
 6
 
 82 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 him we were his friends. As soon as he was out of sight we 
 raised the double-quick, and went for miles injo the dismal 
 swamps, for we felt more safe when we were away down in 
 the dense wilderness of swamp brush and greenbriers, for we 
 had hid in them so long. Every fright we would get, we 
 would run for miles so we could get into these low down 
 swamps, though when there we would famish and faint for 
 food and water before we could get out. However, we aimed 
 to travel in the swamps altogether in the day time, but some- 
 times we would pass over some dry land. We got one mess 
 of little hard apples on the entire trip, and I often wondered 
 that they did not kill us, for they were so poor and hard and 
 we ate so greedily of them; and we had one mess of water- 
 melons, and one mess of tame grapes, which we picked off a 
 man's porch. We were so near starved to death we ran 
 right through the yard and soon filled ourselves with the 
 grapes. 0, how delicious they were, and how we feasted upon 
 them, and then filled our haversacks with the grapes, and 
 feeling refreshed we again resumed our weary march onward. 
 Now in the lone swamps there were no wild grapes, and when 
 on the dry land, we could get corn and would not take the 
 time to bother with them. 
 
 The rebels did not have any pickets on the south side of 
 their camps, they just had scouts. One night we were travel- 
 ing with all the speed that we possibly could and about three 
 o'clock in the morning we found ourselves in the rebel camp; 
 we went up to their artillery and then turned and intended to 
 go around the infantry, when lo, we found ourselves in the 
 midst of the rebel infantry camp. Now we were somewhat 
 confused, but we hurried right on through their camp, and if 
 they saw us they took us for their own men, (but they were
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 3 
 
 greatly fooled if they did.) We went on safe through and 
 coming out in the main road a ways, we soon discovered a 
 picket fire and slipped up until we were within ten steps of 
 the picket; we could see every man, just how they were situ- 
 ated; we soon fell back a proper distance, and concluded if 
 they would let us alone that we would serve them the same 
 way, and so started double-quick through the brush, and 
 we traveled for about four miles down the Flint river bottom. 
 What a terrible dangerous place this river was, but we did not 
 hesitate long, but went in and soon crossed over the waving, 
 dangerous water. It was now about sun-rise and when 
 we landed our hearts sank within us at the terrible swamp 
 that lay before as; despair, starvation and death was pictured 
 in every countenance, but we, weak and trembling, entered 
 the swamp. It was rather dry at this time, there were tall 
 green briers with both ends in the ground, swamp brash, and 
 the vines were so dense that it was next to impossible to pen- 
 etrate it. Our limbs were all cut, and bleeding, and swollen; 
 and our clothing was torn to ribbons and strings. As sore 
 as we were, we were compelled to get down on all fours and 
 crawl for almost half a day, and then we could see no light; 
 we finally came to a bush about forty feet in height and I 
 climbed up it to see if I could see any light or open space in 
 the swamp. 
 
 But I could not discover any. There seemed to be paths 
 all through this swamp made by wild vermin and beasts. 
 Though it seemed impossible for a very large beast to get 
 through without getting their nose right on the ground and 
 creeping along the same as we did. Our knees and hands 
 were all cut and bleeding^ with briers and thorns until it was 
 next to impossible for us to walk at all, in fact it was suffer-
 
 84- A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 ing beyond reason for us. But it was life or death with us. 
 To stop was death, to be recaptured was death, and to be dis- 
 covered by a citizen was the same, while perseverance was life. 
 After I came down from the tree we again resumed our march 
 on all fours, but were surprised when we soon came to a steep 
 bluff. Now I will describe those green briers of which I have 
 spoken, for we had to travel through them so much. Well 
 they were about the size of a man's finger. They grow in 
 low swampy ground and are always green; they grow from 
 ten to thirty feet long, and run like vines over the swamp 
 bushes and frequently both ends fasten in the ground. It 
 was they that tore our cloths and flesh so while running 
 from the hounds. We now ascended the hill weary and 
 faint for we had been in this dry hot swamp so long 
 without water or food. We now started out on a trot 
 through a dense forest, like wild beasts and traveled nearly all 
 day before coming to any corn field, where we could get some 
 to eat. The country now became more rough and hilly, 
 sometimes a dense swamp and sometimes hills. About dusk 
 one evening we were in a perfect wilderness, we ran under a 
 dense cluster of vines that hung about four feet above the 
 ground and formed a good house under there, so thick when 
 once in we could not see out. We darted under there, 
 when lo, there was a prisoner who had come from Florence 
 prison all alone. He soon left us and the next morning we 
 heard a volley of musketry. We thought he had ran into a 
 rebel picket and was shot for we never heard of him getting 
 through and he was aiming for the same point that we were. 
 The poor fellow struggled, toiled and suffered to save his 
 life, then was compelled to lose it without seeing his friends. 
 We now discovered a negro, and being desirous of learning
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 85 
 
 the distance to the Neuse river, sought an opportunity to talk 
 with him which we did, and he informed us that as soon as 
 we got to the Stone river we would be safe, for he said the 
 Yanks were guarding the bridge. We now felt somewhat 
 encouraged, as the river was only some thirty miles distant. 
 We were soon there, but would not venture to go on the 
 bridge, and aimed some three miles below it, for we were 
 afraid to trust the darkey too far; I don't think he meant 
 to mislead us, but when we got to the river, we could look up 
 it and see the rebs walking on the bridge. We were now 
 so near the Union lines, that without a doubt had we gone 
 there we would have been shot; and the country was full of 
 bushwhackers. When we started across the river we got 
 nearly across when we sunk in the quick sand and nearly 
 perished, but finally worked our way out. We found that 
 our troops had fallen back across the Neuse river, which left us 
 in the midst of the bushwhackers. We finally decided to go 
 to the road, thinking we might come to the Union pickets. 
 Once into the road we could see northern papers, oyster and 
 sardine cans that had come from the north. 0, what joy 
 even those emblems gave us. Hope now sprang up within us 
 and we exclaimed within our hearts : " Why art thou cast 
 down, 0, my soul, and why art thou disquieted within me? 
 Hope in God; for I shall yet praise Him who is the health of 
 my countenance, and my God." 
 
 With light hearts we now traveled on with all the speed 
 we possibly could the remainder of that day, the night follow- 
 ing and also the next day mitil about noon. We were ex- 
 pecting to come to our picket guards every minute; and were 
 now so excited with the hope of seeing our pickets, that we 
 did not take time to hunt any corn to eat, so we traveled
 
 86 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE \VAR. 
 
 twenty-four hours without anything to eat. It seemed like 
 we were so close to the Union lines and to liberty, that the 
 very air seemed changed, but it was a perilous place for us in 
 the midst of rebel scouts and bushwhackers, but we felt 
 that we were under God's protecting care. Not even a bird 
 could flit by unnoticed by us, or a man come near without 
 our notice in sufficient time to escape from danger or death. 
 I now ventured up to the gate of a large farm house where I 
 saw an aged couple sitting on a porch, and I asked the old 
 gentleman how far it was to the Neuse river. He replied it 
 was about two miles; but he took us for rebs, and said: Don't 
 go there, for the Yankees are thick along the river." I then 
 asked if that was the nearest point to the river, and he replied, 
 " No; it was only about one mile across the fields, but we had 
 better keep away from the river, for the Yanks were so thick 
 scouting up and down the river on the other side, that it was 
 very dangerous to go near the river. Dear reader, you can- 
 not imagine how our poor hearts were delighted to think we 
 were so close to friends and food. 
 
 We took across the plantation with all the energy we 
 could command until we came to the long looked for river, with 
 eager eyes we penetrated the forest on the other side, but 
 could see no blue coats or Union men; but there lies before 
 us a great deep river, a mile wide. We wandered up and 
 down looking in vain, with eager eyes, trying to catch a 
 glimpse of a blue coat on the other shore; we were so anxious 
 to get transport over the river. The evening's shade was now 
 drawing its curtains around us, .and we feared every moment 
 that we would be shot by bushwackers. C. E. Tibbies and 
 G. N. Tibbies, being expert swimmers, got a flat rail 
 and got on it and launched out in the deep and landed safe on
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 87 
 
 the other shore where friends and kindred dwell, where the 
 land flows with good provisions. Davis now thought he 
 would cross on a rail, but just as he started out the rail 
 turned and he would have perished in the deep water had I 
 not assisted him in getting back to the shore. We were now 
 hungry, weak and faint and almost ready to despair. Just at 
 dusk we saw a darky and he told us to go four miles down 
 the river to a mill, and we would find a Union man, but he 
 said in all probability we would get shot before we got there, 
 however he gave us as safe a route to go as he could. So 
 weary and faint and weak as we were we toiled on until nine 
 o'clock when we reached a large mill, but no dwelling house 
 and no light was visible, but we rapped on the mill door; no 
 sound was heard within, we listened in vain for a footfall un- 
 til our hearts almost ceased to beat; we arose and attempted 
 to go a little further although it was in a staggering manner 
 with starvation and weakness; when we went a little distance 
 we looked across the river, when lo ! we discovered a bright 
 picket fire, with blue coats standing around it. That sight 
 was like the morning star of hope to us. So we again made 
 way to the mill door and pounded upon it with all the power 
 we had; shortly a foot step was heard within and a voice said 
 "Who is there?" I replied "a friend I guess." So in a short 
 time the door was opened by a large old negro. We soon 
 told him a brief history of ourselves and the old darkey 
 shouted and praised God for our deliverance. We were soon 
 taken through the mill back into a little old hut and was 
 given coffee, cold potatoes and meat to eat but very little 
 done us. He spread down some quilts in the mill for us to 
 lie down upon how thankful we felt for even these. As 
 soon as the break of day the old darkey came to us.
 
 88 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 Although I had not slept any during the night, for that 
 Union picket fire and the blue coats was before my eyes all 
 night long; for that fire was the Star of Hope, life and 
 liberty to me. The old darkey told us to come now before it 
 was clear light, for if the rebs should see us there it would be 
 death to us and himself also; so we were soon rowed across 
 the river by a stout young negro and as soon as we could 
 we made our way to Uncle Sam's boys' camp. There was a 
 New York regiment on the outer guard, and as we went into 
 camp they fell into line and gave three cheers for the Fourth 
 Iowa. 
 
 There is no pen nor even tongue that could describe my 
 feelings, to realize that I was free and among friends. The 
 colonel gave us a glass of brandy; the chaplain pinned our 
 rags up as best he could to hide our nakedness until we could 
 get some clothing. Breakfast was soon prepared for us but 
 we could eat but a few bits, we were so near starved to 
 death, that it seemed we could not eat. Now this was all 
 done for us by a New York regiment, whom we never had 
 seen before. But they felt as near and dear to us as any 
 brother could feel toward another. It was now the first day 
 of October, 1864, and we were six miles from Newbern, N. 
 C. The Colonel soon ordered a team to take us to Newbern 
 and as we four prisoners rode along my heart was filled with 
 praise to God who had so miraculously delivered us from death 
 by the hand of our enemies. Surely I could say in the language 
 of the Psalmist, 20th chapter, 6th verse, " Now know I that 
 the Lord saveth his annointed; He will hear from his holy 
 heaven, with the saving strength of his right hand. I will 
 bless the Lord who has given me council. Psalm 16 chap., 
 10th verse. We were soon in Newbern, furnished with good
 
 A VETEEAN'S STOET OF THE WAS. 89 
 
 quarters, clothing and good food. But as soon as we were quiet 
 and our excitement over we were helpless. Our feet and legs 
 swollen and we were weak we could scarcely walk across the 
 room. The yellow fever was now raging in Newbern; the 
 people were dying at the rate of sixty per day. We remained 
 four days until we were able to walk around some and then 
 were sent by rail to Morehead City, N. C., on coast. Here we 
 stayed one day and gathered oysters in the shell on the coast. 
 We then got aboard of a ship and sailed for Fortress Monroe, 
 Va., and when within five miles of that city, a tug boat met us 
 with a physician on board; they would not let us land for 
 sixteen days on account of yellow fever being on the ship. 
 The doctor brought us five days' rations and another suit of 
 clothing and the ship sailed on for New York City were we 
 met the same resistance as before. During our voyage there 
 we were in great peril by a heavy storm and thought we 
 would all be drowned. Oh, the raging fury; how it tossed 
 our ship around and how sickening the thought, that after 
 having undergone so much suffering, privations, and to be 
 spared to get so near home and yet never reach there, but the 
 same hand that had preserved us in the past troubles, calmed 
 the roaring sea and we were enabled to stem the storm and 
 again cast anchor at New York City, and by a little intrigue, 
 we prisoners got on board of a tug boat and sailed to shore. 
 We had now been sailing six days and nights without seeing 
 land. I got very sick at first but finally got better. We 
 landed in New York City, October 12, 1864. We were directed 
 to a soldiers' home, the first I had ever seen and I had soldiered 
 three years. The home was but a short distance from the 
 boat landing, but we were so weak and trembling that it was 
 with great difficulty that we reached there. But here we
 
 90 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 received good attention and care for two days and then took 
 rail for Buffalo, New York. 
 
 Here we were nursed with great care for two days, and 
 thence we were sent to Cincinnati, Ohio; here we were 
 stopped for two days more, and then sent on to Cleveland, 
 Ohio, and remained a few days. We now began to realize 
 that we were gaining some strength. We were shown the 
 greatest kindness, and everything was furnished us that was 
 calculated to give us strength and build us up, wherever we 
 were sent. We stopped at all the main cities along the road 
 home, and recruited our health and strength. We boys then 
 separated, each to return to his respective home. The Tib- 
 bies boys and I had been together so long that it was with 
 feelings of sadness that we separated. I then went to Keo- 
 kuk, Iowa, and stopped ; the people gathered around me as 
 they would around Gen. Grant, and gave me good and kind 
 attention, and even money was presented me. I then left for 
 Winterset, Iowa, arriving there, at " my old home," Novem- 
 ber 1, 1864. My friends had all given me up for dead. The 
 Tibbies boys' widowed mother had even had their funerals 
 preached, and some of my friends were contemplating the 
 same ; and 0! the joy and sweet pleasure in our again being 
 permitted to meet in this world was better felt than described. 
 I now reported myself to Des Moines, and the Provost Mar- 
 shal ordered me to return home until my health got better, 
 and when I got able to travel, to report to Davenport, Iowa, 
 and.get my discharge. I was now able to go to church, and 
 enjoy the society of young folks; and, on the 25th day of 
 December, 1864, I was united in marriage to Miss E. J. 
 Bowlsby, of Winterset, Madison County, Iowa, in Osceola, 
 Iowa, by Rev. A. S. Elliott; and on January 3, 1865, J was
 
 A VETERAN'S STOEY OF THE WAR. 91 
 
 honorably discharged from the United States service at Dav- 
 enport, Iowa. I quit chewing tobacco, and have never again 
 resumed the filthy practice. I now settle down in life with 
 weak lungs and a broken constitution, and when the war broke 
 out I was counted one among the stoutest men in the county; 
 but the sufferings, hardships and exposures to which I was 
 subjected while in the employ of Uncle Sam, has left me but 
 a wreck of my former self. But, nevertheless, it is a miracle 
 wrought by the Divine hand on me that I am alive, and it is 
 through His mercy alone that I live to-day. God is just. 
 
 THE PRISONER'S LAMENT. 
 
 When our country called for men, 
 
 We came from forge and store and mill- 
 
 From workshop, farm and factory, 
 
 The broken ranks to fill. 
 
 We left our quiet, happy homes, 
 
 And others we loved so well, 
 
 To vanquish all the Union foes, 
 
 Or fall where others fell. 
 
 Now in prisons drear we languish, 
 
 And it is our constant cry 
 
 Oh, ye! who yet can save us, 
 
 Why leave us here to die? 
 
 The tongue of slander tells you 
 
 That our hearts were filled with fear 
 
 That all or nearly all of us 
 
 Were captured in the rear; 
 
 But the scars upon our bodies 
 
 Of musket ball and shell, 
 
 The missing legs and shattered arms, 
 
 A truer tale will tell.
 
 92 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 We have tried to do our duty 
 In the sight of God on high 
 Oh, ye ! who yet can save us, 
 Why leave us here to die ? 
 
 There are hearts with hope still beating, 
 In each pleasant Northern home 
 Watching, waiting for the loved ones 
 Who may never, never come. 
 Meager, tattered, pale and gaunt; 
 Growing weaker every day 
 With pinching cold and want, 
 Brothers, sons and husbands lay 
 Poor and helpless and captured they lie 
 Oh, ye! who yet can save us, 
 Why will you leave us here to die? 
 
 Outside, yet near Andersonville prison gates, 
 
 There is a graveyard close at hand, 
 
 Where lie thirteen thousand Union men 
 
 Beneath the Georgia sand. 
 
 Scores are added daily, 
 
 As day succeeds each day ; 
 
 And thus it will be ever 
 
 Until all have passed away. 
 
 The last can say, when dying, 
 
 With upturned and glazing eye. 
 
 Both Love and Faith are dead at home, 
 
 Else why leave us here to die? 
 
 This was the lamentation of hundreds as they passed from 
 Andersonville to that bourne from which no traveler returns. 
 
 But before bringing my history to a final close, I wish to 
 say that in the spring of 1861 there were in the loyal states 
 4,000,000 men fit for military duty or service, and over 2,000,- 
 000 volunteered for service against the rebellion ; and there
 
 A VETERAN S STORY OF THE WAR. 93 
 
 were of this number 96,000 killed in action, 5,000 of which 
 were commissioned officers, and there were 183,000 died of dis- 
 ease. Total , 279,000, and there were 1,300 died in Anderson ville 
 prison, the total number of prisoners who died during the 
 war of the rebellion is 36,401. Comrades, this calls our atten- 
 tion to the thousands of our brave comrades that were 
 slaughtered by our sides, and of the sufferings and privations 
 through wjiich we passed during the rebellion. It was our 
 nation's best men that crowded the ranks of the Union army, 
 and we can but pay our tribute to those who' fell in the defense 
 of liberty, and to whose sacrifice we owe all the blessings which 
 we now enjoy. The scenes of those years of war and carnage 
 are engraved on memory's page as with a pen of iron. They 
 stand out like the lightning track on the dark back ground 
 of night. We could not forget them if we would. Nor should 
 they be forgotten. They are gone. Is this all ? Is the end 
 in material things? Shall we never see our soldiers again? 
 Shall we never walk with them on the shores be} r ond the 
 river? Is there no hope beyond the grave? In a few days 
 we too, will be called. Already our locks are whitening. If 
 this be all of it; if the grave is the end, then it is question- 
 able whether they have not paid too dearly for these blessings 
 we enjoy. But it is not the end. Things present are typical 
 of things to come. Analogies reign, and things seen aid in 
 the interpretation of things unseen. Is there no hope that 
 we shall bloom out into brighter and more glorious beings. 
 Comrades, the long roil will soon be sounded for another 
 muster. Are you ready to fall in? Can we expect to spend 
 a life in selfishness and sin, and then give to heaven the drugs 
 and dross of it. Can we expect to muster unless we make 
 preparations for it? Comrades, if we will fall in line and
 
 94 A VETERAN S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 obey our Commander, we will come off conqueror through 
 Him that loved us to the enjoyment of a happy and brighter 
 resting place beyond the grave with all the pure and good. 
 " God is love." Yours truly, 
 
 J. R. COMPTON, 
 Company F, Fourth Iowa Volunteer Infantry.
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 95 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Capture of Jeff Davis "My Old Mother." 
 
 "Strike! till the last armed foe expires; 
 
 Strike! for your altars and your fires; 
 Strike! for the green graves of your sires, 
 
 God and your native land. 
 
 1WILL now give you a minute history of the capture 
 of Jeff Davis, in addition to my experience. Davis at 
 the approach of danger hurried southward, leaving to Lee 
 and the remnant of his army the task of defending the State 
 .of Virginia. On the third of April he arrived in Danville and 
 assumed, with such of his cabinet and officials as he could 
 gather around him, to establish the fiction of a government; 
 he also issued a proclamation announcing his intention to 
 hold on to Virginia, but the capitulation of Lee and the 
 threatening aspect of Sherman and Stoneman, counseled him 
 to move further southward, while his escape was possible, 
 with his fugitive government fast crumbling to pieces around 
 him; he still maintained an appearance of confidence, and a 
 degree of assurance which deceived no one; and at Charlotta, 
 North Carolina, where he remained several days, he made a 
 public speech, promising soon to have a larger army than 
 ever before in the field. About April 25th, he left Charlotta, 
 alarmed by the approach of Stoneman's cavalry, who now 
 became aware that the great head of the rebellion was in their 
 neighborhood. Passing through Yorkville, South Carolina, 
 with a train of several ambulances and a small mounted es-
 
 96 A VETERAN S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 cort he entered Georgia in the beginning*of May, and on the 
 31st reached Washington, a small town northwest of Augusta, 
 thence he moved rapidly southward, hoping, possibly, to reach 
 the Gulf and there find a vessel to convey him to Cuba. 
 Meanwhile rumors of the flight of Davis through Georgia, 
 reached General Wilson at Macon, who sent out parties of 
 cavalry to scour the neighboring country; at Irviugsville, 
 about seventy miles south of Macon, the Fourth Michigan 
 Cavalry, Colonel Pritchard, came upon traces of the Rebel 
 Ex-President, two miles outside the town; they were com- 
 pletely surprised and the whole party of fugitives captured, 
 including Mrs. Davis and her sister, the Rebel Postmaster- 
 General Reagan and others. 
 
 The following description of the manner in which Davis 
 was captured is vouched for as true to the minutest detail, by 
 an eye witness : Andrew Bee, a private of Company L, went 
 to the entrance of Davis's tent and was met by Mrs. Davis, 
 bareheaded and barefoot, who, putting her hand on his arm, 
 said : "Please do not go in there till my daughter gets her- 
 self dressed." Andrew thereupon drew back, and in a few 
 minutes a young lady (Miss Howell) and another person, bent 
 over as with age, wearing a lady's water-proof gathered at 
 the waist, with a shawl drawn over the head, and carrying a 
 tin pail, appeared and asked to go to the run for water. Mrs. 
 Davis also appears and says : " For God's sake, let my old 
 mother go to get some water." No objections being made, 
 they passed out, but sharp eyes were upon the singular old 
 mother. Suddenly, Corporal Munger, of Company C, and 
 others at the same instant, noticed that the old mother was 
 wearing very heavy boots for an aged female, and the corpo- 
 ral exclaimed, "That is not a woman ! Don't you see the
 
 A VETERAN'S STORY OF THE WAR. 97 
 
 boots?" and spurring his horse forward and cocking his car- 
 bine, compelled the withdrawal of the shawl, and disclosed 
 Jeff. Davis. As if stung by this discovery of his unmanliness, 
 Jeff, struck an attitude and cried out: "Is there a man among 
 you? If there is, let me see him.'" "Fes," said the corporal, 
 "I am one, and if you stir, I will blow your brains out." " I 
 know my fate, and might as well die here/' But his wife 
 threw her arms around his neck and kept herself between 
 him and the threatening corporal. No harm was done him, 
 and he was generally kindly spoken to ; he was only stripped 
 of his female attire. As a man. he was dressed in a complete 
 suit of grey, a light felt hat and high cavalry boots, with a 
 grey beard of about six weeks' growth covering his face. He 
 said he thought our government was too magnanimous to 
 hunt women and children in that way. When Col. Pritch- 
 ard told him he would do the best he could for his comfort, 
 he answered, "I ask no favors of you." To which surly reply 
 the colonel courteously responded by assuring him of kind 
 treatment. "He ought to have fallen in the hands of some man 
 that had suffered in Andersonville prison about six months. 
 I don't think Jeff would have been quite so saucy, or he soon 
 would have wilted." 
 
 Davis was conveyed to Macon and thence to Fortress Mon- 
 roe, where he arrived in the latter part of May, and where he 
 was incarcerated, awaiting his trial for high treason. Stevens, 
 the rebel Vice-President, was captured about the same time, 
 together with others who had held high civil and military 
 positions in the rebel government. On June, 1865, there was 
 not an organized body of men east of the Rio Grande who 
 defied the authority of the national government. On May 
 7
 
 98 
 
 A VETERAN S STORY OF THE WAR. 
 
 23d and 24:th, the armies of Grant and Sherman were re- 
 viewed in Washington, in the presence of President Johnson 
 and a vast concourse of people. The United States at once 
 took its place among the great powers of the world more 
 than ever before.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Enlists in the Army Sent to St. Louis A Dreaded Disease Gen- 
 eral Curtis Orders Medical Aid and Rations Return to My Reg- 
 iment 7 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Improvement in Health Foraging for Stock Measles in Camp 
 The March on Springfield, Missouri, and its Capture Descrip- 
 tion Pea Ridge 12 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Pea Ridge First Day's Fight Loss of Federal Battery Gen. 
 Curtis' Retreat Cut Off The Out-look Gloomy for the Union 
 Forces, when Rebels Scatter and Run The Victory Ours 17 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 After the Battle Hospital at Springfield Fishing and making 
 Rings of Mussel Shells Trading Guns Copperheads at Home. 21 
 
 ' CHAPTER V. 
 
 Down the Mississippi Arkansas Post Council of War at Milli- 
 kin's Bend Captured Paroled- Benton Barracks Memphis, 
 Corinth, luka Rebels in the Blue Death of James Stafford 
 Chickasaw Landing Battle above the Clouds Tibbies as a 
 Forager 24 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Across the Tennessee Barefoot Soldiers Clayville, Alabama, 
 Warned by Southern Sweethearts Captured 31 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Man's Inhumanity to Man Andersonville Prison Pen Scenes and 
 Events... --4
 
 100 INDEX. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Providence Springs Trial of Mosby's Gang Death Warrant Signed 
 by Abraham Lincoln Attempts to Escape 40 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Many Plans for Escape Negroes' Singing News from Atlanta- 
 Rate of Deaths, one every Eleven Minutes 45 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Terrible Suffering Trying to Effect an Exchange A Novel Way of 
 Concealing Escaped Prisoners Escape of Three Overtaken by 
 Blood Hounds and Recaptured The Rebels try to Enlist the 
 Prisoners of Andersonville into the Rebel Army 55 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 Return to Prison Punishment Confederate Government knew of 
 the Treatment at Andersonville Jeff Davis accessory to the 
 Murder of Thirteen Thousand Prisoners of War 62 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A Change of Prisons Escape at Belle Isle Living on Green Corn 
 The Swamps Blood Hounds Despair in the Swamps 67 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 Still Fleeing through Swamps No Food for Thirty-eight Hours- 
 Still Pursued by Blood-hounds A Rain brings Relief and 
 destroys their Trail 75 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 G. N. Tibbies Finds One Large Sweet Potato Still on the Tramp 
 and Meet a Rebel Negro Home at Last The Prisoner's La- 
 ment 81 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 Capture of Jeff Davis" My Old Mother ". '. 95
 
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