Three years in field hospitals of the Army of the Potomac

by Anna M. Holstein

Among them one was noticed straining his eyes toward the shore, and, as they neared the wharf, was one of the first to press forward to leave the vessel; he walked along the plank, eagerly looking in the distance; tottered with a few feeble steps upon our soil, and then—fell dead! his wish gratified: he died at home.

Another load of two hundred: some skeletons among them who could not be made to comprehend that they were in a land of plenty, and would be provided for; but clutched with a firm grasp the bones and scraps which they had concealed; and when forced to drop them outside the gate, did so with tears, repeating, “they had been in prison eighteen months, and knew what starvation was.”

Thomas G. Spikean, from New York, while at Florence was set to work outside of their prison inclosure, building chimneys for the rebels; finding food daily becoming more scarce, determined to escape, or perish in the attempt. Thinking death preferable to slow starvation, five men broke their parole and started with him: for ten days kept together, until they were tracked by dogs, and obliged to secrete themselves in the swamps; wading about in them until they became chilled, at length reached a small island in safety; from there to land; came to Orangeburg just as Sherman’s forces left it, and to Columbia as they were taking up the last pontoon; crossed in a skiff, and were then taken care of by the army.

There had been terrible suffering during all the winter months, among our soldiers in prisons, for want of clothing, food, fire, and shelter. Five sticks of wood were given to one hundred men once in three days! That amounted to none at all, for, as they have shown me the size, it could all be burned in an hour.

A man, who has been a prisoner since the battle of the Wilderness, now lies entirely stiffened, helpless, and unable to move, from exposure and sleeping upon the cold ground: he says, at one time Sanitary Commission clothing was pretended to be distributed by the rebels—six pieces to one thousand men! the rebel guard wore the caps, clothing, and blankets, while our men died by scores for the want of them.

Again assisting in distributing Sanitary Commission articles to sixteen hundred and forty men: they had been in prison but a few months; a small number among them, eighteen months; these had been resting at Wilmington, where they were well fed and kindly cared for, and now looked well and happy in their new blue. The distributions, which are made at College Green Barracks, are a source of pleasure to the recipients, while it is both gratifying and amusing to those who act as donors.

A German named Neabal, 54th New York, eleventh corps, who was captured at Gettysburg, July, 1863: stayed in that horrid Belle Island eight months; from there to Andersonville, thence to Savannah, where they had good rations; then taken to Macon and Charleston; for three weeks they were kept moving, for fear Gen. Sherman would find and release them; the corn which the cavalry horses dropped upon the ground, when they were fed, was all they had to eat for several days; he was paroled in Wilmington the last of February, and soon after sent North.

April 4th. Three boats filled with prisoners arrived: some shocking-looking cases among them; as soon as they were bathed, dressed, and made comfortable in good beds, you could hardly recognize the squalid-looking crowd we had so lately seen. As soon as possible, passed through the wards, taking names, and notes of messages to write to friends at home—that is always the first request; wrote, and mailed for them that evening, twenty-two letters. In the morning, was pained to learn the number that died during the night. Mrs. Hulster, of Ohio, found her nephew in this arrival: he had been reported dead by his comrades, and so they all believed at home. The toes of one foot were entirely gone, part of the other badly frozen; he is ill with the terrible fever brought here by the prisoners.

The one great, exciting event is the fall of Richmond, so long expected, and now occurring so quietly that these poor fellows think it cannot be; as we move among them, they constantly ask: “Is it true? God grant it may be!” The salute of one hundred guns, which was soon afterward fired, confirmed their belief that it was so. The Naval School band played patriotic airs in the cupola of the State House, Governor Bradford made a speech to the excited crowd, flags were floating, and the Union people here, as everywhere, jubilant over the good news.

To-day, met Captains Wilson and Shelton, of the 57th Ohio Vols., who have been in the service four years, and intend to remain while there is a rebel in arms against the government; they were captured at Atlanta, 20th of July, 1864; sent from there to Macon, thence through nearly all the prisons in the Confederacy. As soon as taken, were asked for all valuables—watches, rings, money, and clothing,—last of all, their honorable captors took their arms. On the 10th of November, escaped from Columbia; finding great difficulty in eluding the pickets, they secreted themselves in the mountains, and built a hut for shelter; while there, they were kindly provided with food by the Union people and colored population; many very poor were anxious to give up their small amount of provisions for Union officers and soldiers; at night, some of the loyal people of Transylvania County, N. C., would come, driving a cow before them loaded with whatever provisions they could collect. The rebels became so expert following a trail, that they would track them as the Indians do: as they would not suspect a cow, she was made to carry the burden, and deceive them. By such acts of kindness they were kept in good health until the 18th of January, when they were recaptured and taken to Asheville, Buncombe County, Tenn., where, with six others, they were put in an iron cage used as a dungeon. It was eleven feet in length, nine wide, and seven high; there was no bed, bench, stool, or anything to sit or lie down upon; no blanket, or covering of any kind, except the scanty clothing which had been left them; they were not out of the dungeon once during the month: filth and vermin in it beyond description; a stove stood outside their bars: if the wood was not placed just in one spot, they could have no fire, no matter how much might be there. Their miserable allowance of food consisted of the black corn-cob bread, varied at long intervals with rough pieces of boiled pork, which was carried to them in a bucket, and served out by a rebel, who had the itch, dipping his hand into the bucket and tossing them whatever the fingers brought up! At first they turned away with loathing, unable to catch the dainty morsels; but continued starvation brought them to eat it without a word. While in the cage, a lieutenant in our army, Wm. Johnson, a resident of Haywood County, N. C., was placed there for a few hours; no clothing left him but drawers; he was told he was a traitor, and a doomed man; listened to it all with folded arms; and soon afterward was taken out to a field near by, and deliberately shot by a rebel sergeant named Bright; earth was thrown thinly over the young martyr’s remains; and when their food came in the morning, the man brought the tidings that the body had been nearly devoured in the night. After remaining there one month, they were taken to Morganton and put in a similar cage for a few days; from there sent to be exchanged. Capt. Wilson said he had, at one time, a tender, sympathizing heart, even for rebels in suffering; but that was all gone now, and in its place something as hard as their own cob bread.