Prisoners were constantly coming into Charleston from various places, and exchange stock was often high. One day a squad of officers who had been in Savannah were marched into the jail yard. From our quarters on the upper balcony we could see them but were not allowed to talk. I recognized Lieutenant McGinnis, also Capt. C. W. Hastings of the 12th Massachusetts, Capt. G. W. Creasey of the 35th, Lieutenants Cross, Moody and Shute of the 59th, besides several others who had been comrades at Macon. They remained a few days, then were sent to other prisons. I wrote a note to McGinnis, tied it to a stone and threw it over the wall. This was in violation of my parole, but I could not help that.
One day about a thousand of our men came into the jail yard from Andersonville. It is impossible to describe their condition; they were nearly naked, their skins were as dark as Indians and dried to their bones. Sergt. Daniel Corrigan of Company E was with them. It was a long time before I could recognize him; he had no shirt and I could see that he was much emaciated, but he walked about, and I was sure that if any one got a ration Corrigan would, as he was the best forager in the regiment. I did not close my eyes to sleep that night, the coughing of the men in the yard preventing it. They remained but one day, then were taken to the fair ground.
Negroes passed the prison nearly every day on the way to Fort Sumter to restore the works which were being knocked to pieces by our batteries and gun-boats. They were collected from the plantations in the country and were a frightened looking set. They knew that their chances for life were small, and they sang mournful songs as they marched along.
The greatest trouble I had was cooking. I had no special qualification for that work, and could not boil dish-water without burning it on; but according to our rule, I must cook for our mess once in three days. My feet were bare, and the rice or mush would boil over on them, and as I jumped back I was sure to land in some other fellow’s fire. Frank was one of the best friends a man ever had and would often take my place, but McHugh was bound that I should learn the business.
October 1 the yellow fever broke out. Our guards were the first taken down, the captain and some of his men dying; then it struck the officers in the prison, and it was not thought safe to remain longer in Charleston, so October 5 we were ordered to pack up and informed that we were to be removed to Columbia. Our squad did not go until the 6th, but they started us so early that we had no time to cook our rice. As we left the prison I bought an apple dumpling of an old colored woman, and am ashamed to say that in my haste I forgot to return the spoon she loaned me to eat it with. If she will send me her address I will send her a dozen as good as the one she lost.
We were sorry to leave Charleston. While it was called the “hot-bed of secession,” we had received the best treatment there of any place in the south. Our guards were kind, and we were seldom taunted by the citizens. We marched through the city, taking our baggage, and, as no two were dressed alike, were a queer-looking procession. There were many Germans in the city, and as we had several officers in our party from that land, they were anxious to do them favors. One had a bottle of whiskey and gave it to one of his countrymen when the guard was not looking. Our comrade had on a rebel jacket, and as he indulged quite freely in the whiskey soon got returns and was fairly full, but the guard, thinking that he was a citizen, said, “You get out of the ranks,” and he got. Assisted by his friends he was soon passed through the lines, and we afterwards heard from him with Sheridan in the Shenandoah valley.
Arriving at the depot, we were placed in box cars, and, as usual on the southern railroads, the train ran off the track in a half-hour after we started, which delayed us several hours. The night was dark and rainy, and several escaped, among them Lieutenant Parker of the 1st Vermont heavy artillery. He was pursued by bloodhounds, and when we arrived at Columbia was brought in so terribly torn and bitten by them that he died before night.