Death, wounds, disease and imprisonment—the sad fortunes of war—kept others from sharing this honor.
CHAPTER XII.
PRISON LIFE DURING THE LAST YEAR OF THE WAR—SEARCHING THE PRISONERS—STARVATION RATIONS—TRUE TO THE SOUTH—HOME AGAIN.
The following extract from a letter written by W. L. Ellis, Esq., conveys a vivid picture of the treatment of prisoners by the Federals during the last year of the war. Mr. Ellis was taken prisoner at Franklin.
“I surrendered to the Colonel of the Eighth Tennessee (U. S.) Regiment, and for kindness shown me by him I shall always feel very grateful. At midnight his command withdrew from the breastworks and started for Nashville, I accompanying him. We reached the hills near Nashville at daylight and halted for breakfast, of which I partook—and keenly enjoyed—with the Colonel. I remained with him till 5, P. M., Thursday, when, with 60 other prisoners, I was sent into Nashville. When our guards halted near the capitol, the prisoners asked for water, which a kind lady offered to bring, but the officer in charge refused permission. She was very indignant; but there was no redress, and we could only thank her heartily for her kind intentions. We were then escorted to the State prison and locked up for the night. Here a bit of bread and meat was handed us by a negro. At daylight we were put on a train for Louisville, where we arrived late in the evening, and were again locked up in prison, the negro guards giving each a small piece of bread and meat. Saturday morning we crossed the river and marched to the depot, where rations of baker’s bread and ham were given us. After living on one meal a day, this food was very acceptable to the hungry prisoners. We then took the cars for Indianapolis, where we remained one hour. The citizens would have treated us very kindly had it not been for the officer in charge. It was here that a gentleman quietly informed us that if we had any currency, to conceal it, for we would be searched. His advice was, of course, taken by the fortunate few who had a dollar. The train arrived at Chicago about 1 o’clock Sunday morning, and we were ordered into line and marched three miles through a heavy snow, and then put into some old barracks, to remain without fire till the dawn of day. It was intensely cold, and it seemed impossible to keep from freezing. At daylight the prisoners were ordered into line, marched to the prison-gates of Camp Douglas, halted and ordered to ground and unstrap knapsacks. After searching them thoroughly, and throwing out such articles as they chose, they ordered us to partly undress, that they might search our clothing for money. The search ended, we marched into the enclosure and were allotted to barracks. Soon after, an orderly came in and notified those without blankets to go with him to the Captain’s office, and he would furnish them. Only three or four, of whom I was one, went. While waiting at the office-door my ears froze—it was so cold. I received a blanket and a pair of shoes.
“On the second day after our arrival, they appointed one of the prisoners ‘Sergeant of the Barracks,’ his duty being to call the roll and see that all was kept in proper order. The barracks were 18×48 feet, and to each were allotted 165 men. The prison-yard was said to contain 25 acres, and there were within the enclosure 59 barracks, 1 office and 1 sutler’s store.
“Our rations consisted of two-thirds of a loaf of baker’s bread, weighing ten ounces, and eight ounces of fresh beef, except on every tenth day, when we drew pork and beans. To divide the beans—they were so few—we had to count them, and the ration of pork amounted to almost nothing. The men suffered so from hunger that a prisoner would break the ice, and wash what we called an outfit—consisting of shirt, pants, drawers and socks—dry, and fold them ready for use, for five cents, with which he would buy a bit of bread. Prisoners from East Tennessee, Kentucky and Missouri could get money from home, and fared sumptuously as compared with those of us who lived south of the enemy’s line. They were not permitted to receive the money, but were given sutler’s tickets, which could be used at the store.
“I formed the acquaintance of two gentlemen, Messrs. Beel and Black, from Kentucky, who insisted upon my messing with them, and I fared much better than others, as my friends procured supplies from the sutler. We remained together two or three months, when, through the influence of friends, they were removed into what we called the ‘loyal barracks.’ There were hundreds of poor fellows who received nothing but their scanty rations, which barely kept them alive—in fact, I believe some died from starvation.