USA > Illinois > Madison County > Centennial history of Madison County, Illinois, and its people, 1812 to 1912, Volume I > Part 41
Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37 | Part 38 | Part 39 | Part 40 | Part 41 | Part 42 | Part 43 | Part 44 | Part 45 | Part 46 | Part 47 | Part 48 | Part 49 | Part 50 | Part 51 | Part 52 | Part 53 | Part 54 | Part 55 | Part 56 | Part 57 | Part 58 | Part 59 | Part 60 | Part 61 | Part 62 | Part 63 | Part 64 | Part 65 | Part 66 | Part 67 | Part 68 | Part 69 | Part 70 | Part 71 | Part 72 | Part 73 | Part 74 | Part 75 | Part 76 | Part 77 | Part 78 | Part 79 | Part 80 | Part 81 | Part 82 | Part 83
280
HISTORY OF MADISON COUNTY
box, he dreamed of home, dreamed dreams that frosty air and memory of dead and dying comrades did not disturb. It was after the battle, but no time for tears.
" 'You are detailed to cross the river for forage.' 'But I have been on picket all night.' 'It's your turn to go.' It was the orderly ser- geant who spoke. 'I'll go, sir.' The soldier did not know he was going straight into the enemy's lines. The colonel knew. The Lieu- tenant in charge knew. He had his instruc- tions, but ignored them. No picket, no ad- vance guard. The command was unleashed. The chum of the soldier was killed, and all save one and the officer were made prisoners of war.
"Libby prison, escape and recapture! Dan- ville prison, Andersonville, Charleston, Flor- ence ! Bloodhounds, lice, starvation and tor- ture! How many lives can be lived in three short years !
"But it was for the Union. It was whether a government of the people might live. It was nothing that this Madison county boy did, for a hundred thousand were doing the same and more. And what shall the harvest be of the seed sown by the soldier of the Union and watered by their blood? Are we a better and a stronger nation because of the great con- flict ? De we love liberty more and concede to others the same rights we claim for our- selves ?
"The old Confederates say 'We are glad we did not succeed, for an undivided country is better. But we were right! They and their children now hold that the great rebellion was a war between the states and that the plotting to overthrow the government at Washington, by those who had sworn to uphold it, to pro- tect and faithfully serve it, was a patriotic act. Let those reconcile these claims who can; it is not for the soldier who saved the Union to enter the field of diplomacy or casuistry.
"A lady writer in Washington, the daughter of a soldier, wrote, a month ago: 'The old
flag of secession is now almost as common in the nation's capital as the dear old Stars and Stripes.' What is it for? Now and then we are confronted with the red flag of anarchy. We can understand that. But this secession flag that we fired at in the sixties, and which we thought was buried at Appomattox! It keeps us guessing."
A MADISON COUNTY SOLDIER'S EXPERIENCE IN SOUTHERN PRISONS
[By J. T. King, of Upper Alton, in the Cen- tury Magazine]
The flank advance on Chattanooga and the battle of Chickamauga covered a month of forced marches, skirmishing and fighting over mountains and through thickets of timber and brush in rain and mud by night and day.
Crack! Crack !, "Surrender you Yanks !" "Halt, there! Halt, or you're a dead man !" Crack! crack! crack! "Now surrender, you Yankee son of Yankee Doodle !"
Seated on top of a staked and rider fence, I looked along a rifle barrel into the right eye of a Confederate as he hissed the words through his teeth. My companion had fallen dead at the first fire and I saw that this fellow meant to shoot. My answer was conciliating. "Have you pistols, watch or greenbacks?" "No-no sir."
"Well, give me that hat. Here, I'll take that ring. That knife is mine." Our pockets went inside out, and I was more surprised when they began to exchange clothing with us. Some of our party who were better clothed than myself were forced to give up their blue coats and take butternut instead; also to give boots in exchange for dilapidated shoes. When the dressing and undressing had been completed, but for the arms in the hands of our captors, you could'nt tell Yank from Confed. They forced us at the point of the bayonet to repair the railroad about Chicka- mauga which had been burned during the bat-
281
HISTORY OF MADISON COUNTY
tle. During these three days they gave us once daily a few ounces of meat and a pint and a half of meal. The latter we mixed with water and baked on a chip before a fire. The men who guarded us to Richmond had been in the thick of the fight at Chickamauga, and their humane treatment, in contrast with that of the authorities at Richmond and the stock- ades, was not forgotten. We were very hungry, and when the train stopped for wood they allowed us, after giving our parole, to break for the woods where we found wild grapes and muscadines. At Atlanta we were searched by officers and relieved of such trifles as we had not previously given up, or such as, by sleight-of-hand, we were unable to secrete. They did not spare us our tin canteens, tin cups and spoons. At Weldon we were sur- rounded by many persons of both sexes, who evinced much curiosity to know what battles we had been engaged in and the circumstances of our capture. One elderly gentleman re- marked: 'Yankees can't stand up against our southern soldiers ; we whip you on every bat- tlefield.'
" 'Look-a-heah, old man,' said one of our guards, 'I can't have you talking to these men . on unsuspecting guards. Once by cutting out
like that; you never saw a Yank with a gun in his hands and, - you, I tell you they were hard to ketch. Now you stand back.'
"Passing under one of the wagon bridges that formed a railway crossing and which was covered with people, we were assailed with a shower of sticks and stones. On our arrival in Richmond October 10, 1863, we were placed on the second floor of a tobacco building, over- looking the river. Extending from the corner across the sidewalk was this sign: 'Libby & Son, Ship Chandlers and Grocers.'
"To inhale some fresh air, I immediately seated myself at an open window and was drawn in by a fellow prisoner, or I should have been shot by an outside guard. A little later we were drawn up in line and counted, and then listened to a speech from a man whom
I learned later was 'young Ross.' He stated that for fear we might bribe our guards it would be necessary for us to give up what money, watches, jewelry and pocket knives we possessed. 'We might,' he said, 'keep what Confederate money we had, but greenbacks and coin must be turned over, all of which will be receipted for and turned over and returned when you are exchanged. And now, gentle- men, step up and get your receipts, after which you will all be carefully searched and anything that you have not turned over will be confis- cated.' It was surprising to see the amount of property that thus passed under Confeder- ate control. I could not understand how so much had escaped previous seizure, but the sagacity of Mr. Ross brought it to light. It was never seen by the Yankees again.
"We were soon removed to the Smiths' building, another tobacco factory. Here we were again searched, but the game was hardly worth the hunt. Our rations, we estimated at Richmond, at two to four ounces of beef and six to eight ounces of good wheat bread. To supplement this we made counterfeit green- backs, which we were sometimes able to pass the figures in a ten cent scrip, and with a little blood gluing this over the figure one in a dol- lar greenback, myself and three comrades bought with this bogus ten dollar bill ninety loaves of good bread, and it was the only time while I was in the Confederacy that I had a full meal.
"The morning after this we were loaded into box cars for 'exchange ;' but the train moved towards Danville, which, we learned later, was our destination. As we approached the Roanoke river it was dark and raining. I had succeeded in removing the cap from the gun of one of our guards, and, attempting to do the same for the other, found his was not capped. So when the river was crossed and we had cleared the houses, four of us jumped from the moving train and escaped to the woods.
282
HISTORY OF MADISON COUNTY
After five days and nights of almost super- human effort and suffering we were all re- captured and taken to Danville. While here our government sent, under flag of truce, clothing, a blanket and an overcoat for each of us. We learned of their arrival and there was great rejoicing; but on looking out next morning we saw our guards wearing blue overcoats and carrying new United States blankets. They gave us a portion, however, and our condition was much improved, but Danville looked like a Union camp. I saw here a number of recaptured prisoners under- going the torture of buck and gag; and once when we had dug a large tunnel from the cel- lar, our rations were cut off for forty-eight hours, and we were all driven to an upper room, thus driving four hundred men into space formerly occupied by two hundred. We were herded thus for two days, one person at a time being allowed to descend to the yard below, and not until his return could another go. Entreaties, threats and curses were met with bayonets, and a scene of horror ensued not to be described. About half a dozen who lay on the opposite side of the room from me forced a window and leaped to the ground . below; but they were riddled with buckshot and not one escaped. They brought in those who were not killed outright and we dug out some of the shot as best we could; but our remnants of knives were poorly adapted to such work and the operation was critical. A man near me held a can of soup through an opening in the window to pour off some of the bugs. He fell, with a bullet through him. He was not killed, but he had learned his lesson.
"We reached Andersonville May 20, 1864. As I passed inside, the ground seemed entirely occupied. The stockade then contained eight- een acres and eight thousand men. On all sides I heard the cries of 'Fresh fish.' 'Look out for the dead line!' 'You can't stop here ; pass on; plenty of room down the hill.' I walked down the slope to unoccupied ground.
My feet sank into the yielding sand, and as I retraced my steps my footprints had filled with the slimy ooze from the hillside. I would not lie on such ground except as a last resort. On the farther side of the stockade, near the dead line, I found a smooth-faced boy named Reese. He was from Ohio, and was slow in his speech. He always smiled when he spoke, and his smile was sweet as a girl's, but sad as tears. He was sheltered under an old blanket stretched on three small sticks. I had secured an overcoat from the supplies sent us at Dan- ville, and this I had traded to a guard for two United States blankets. I had stolen a sheet- iron tobacco plate from the cellar there which I had transformed into a dish. I had an old knife that I had managed to save from the searchers, and a haversack that had been car- ried through the Chattanooga campaign. . 1 proposed a partnership with Reese, which, when I had shown my property, was speedily accomplished, and comparing our condition with those of thousands about us we were a pair of millionaires. Reese died in the pen at Florence. The three comrades with whom I escaped from the train died at Andersonville. One friend with whom I slept died at Charles- ton, and another was killed by a guard.
"Prisoners kept pouring into Andersonville until the number reached 23,000. The entire ground was covered until there was scarce room to move, and then the stockade was en- larged to thirty-three acres, and later the num- ber of prisoners reached 35,000. The soft hill- side by the tramping of so many feet became more solid, and thousands who had no vestige of a blanket burrowed holes to escape the heat and dew. When it rained these holes filled with water and the occupants had to sit out- side. The ration for the earlier months con- sisted of about four ounces of meat and a section of corn bread four inches square by three inches thick. The bread of unbolted meal was baked very hard for the depth of half an inch while the center was raw. The
.
283
HISTORY OF MADISON COUNTY
bread would often be as full of flies as a plum pudding is of fruit. As a large portion of our number drew rations after dark the in- gredients were not wasted. During the later months yams, rice or peas were issued in lieu of meat, and meal or grits instead of bread. We had no vessels to receive these, and the steaming rice was shoveled from the wagon box into blankets ; or a man would take off his trousers, knot one of the legs and thus receive the portion for his mess. The same method was used in the distribution of the yams and peas, except sometimes the receptacle was a piece of under clothing. Reese and I with some half a dozen others, with the aid of sticks and half canteens, dug a well some twenty feet deep, which yielded only drops of water, but it was a great improvement over the sluggish stream which carried to us the sewage of the cook house and the camps above. When rations were issued raw a feeble at- tempt was made to furnish wood. A few loads of wood came in so that once a week a mess of fifteen would receive two cord-wood sticks. These were so inadequate that we dug in the sand for the roots of the forest that had once covered the ground. This was done so long as a piece the size of a lead pencil remained. The heat of July and August caused Reese and hundreds of others to go blind after the sun went down, nor could they see until the sun rose again. We called them 'moon-eyed men.'
"All the old prisoners had scurvy. Nine or ten months of prison life did not fail to pro- duce it. While smallpox prevailed at Dan- ville the authorities caused a general vaccina- tion. Many hundreds of these men were now attacked with a virulent gangrene. These, with the wounded, the scurvy cases and the imbeciles, used to gather daily at the south gate to solicit medical aid. The dead were also carried there to await the opening at nine o'clock. Then Confederate surgeons came in and applied some substance to the wounds that
caused them to emit smoke. This did not stop the work of the gangrene, but it killed the parasites. While the dead were accumulating I used to count thirty, forty, sixty and more, coming from all quarters of the stockade. Death came slowly. It seemed a gradual wear- ing out. I had noticed what I supposed was a dead soldier lying for some days near my place. He had comrades there, and at last one of us ventured to inquire 'Why don't you carry that man out ?' 'You'd better wait until he is dead.' 'Well, he will never be any deader than he is,' was the retort. 'You wait and see.' I noted him carefully for some minutes, when at last the breast heaved slightly and emitted a faint sigh.
"Passing down the hill one day a packed mass of men attracted my attention. As I pushed my way in, making inquiries, I was answered, 'The hounds! The hounds!' A man sat naked on the sands. His comrades were pouring water over him. He was cov- ered with scratches and bites from his head to his feet. His face, his breast, his back and limbs were torn and bruised. 'I could have fought off the dogs,' he said, 'but the men cocked their revolvers and made me come down from the tree, and then they set on the dogs until they were tired.'
"It was in June that a small portion of the prisoners were transformed into beasts and be- gan to prey upon the others. They snatched and ate the rations of the weaker ones and grew strong. We called them 'raiders' and they grew in numbers and boldness until mur- der was added to theft and no one was safe. They made raids within a few steps of where I lay, and cut and bruised some men in a hor- rible manner. The prisoners began to organ- ize as regulators, and armed themselves with the sticks that had supported their little shel- ters. The raiders, anticipating trouble, began to organize and also called themselves regu- lators. The law and order men began the ar- rest of the raiders and they began the arrest
284
HISTORY OF MADISON COUNTY
of the others, and even of non-combatants, that they might turn attention from them- selves. The stockade was pandemonium those days. Hundreds of half naked men here, and hundreds there, surged to and fro, with sticks and fists for weapons. No one can say what was done. The dense crowd hid the acts of individuals, but order was finally victorious. A court was organized; as is well known six of the raiders were found guilty of murder and were hanged. The others, with the innocent men that had been arrested in the turmoil, were all compelled to run the gauntlet, where fearful vengeance was visited upon the unfor- tunates.
"Towards the last of August we were sent to Charleston, and later to Florence, South Carolina. There was no shelter. The weather, later, was cold, ice forming on the little stream nightly. The rations were uncooked and more scant. There was no meat issued, and we were very weak. The punishments, as at An- dersonville, involved the hounds, the buck and gag, and the chain gang. I did not see any stocks at Florence, but the commandant used to hang up by the thumbs men who had es- caped and been retaken. I heard their shrieks in the long nights. Things got shadowy, then ; I was burning with fever and shaking to pieces. I could not eat the grits. Comrades brought me water from the swamp. I had lain so long that a depression was formed in the sand and it was difficult to turn. I heard shots, and they said men were killed. I saw dead men carried by. Men stopped to look at me as I had looked at others, and passed on. One said 'See how he shakes ;' another 'How white that fellow is ; he won't last long.'
"Then there was talk of parole, and I was outside, a comrade under each shoulder. To the box cars again-a Confederate steamer- iron clads-Fort Sumter,-a transport of the United States, from the masthead of which floated the Stars and Stripes. Sailors in natty uniforms leaned over the rail, and, looking
down upon the deck of our rusty little cockle shell, they gave us a welcome cheer. This was the sixth time we had left prison or stockade for exchange and it now seemed that our guards had for once told us the truth. We had often said, during the weary months from Libby to Florence, that when we should once again see the old flag we would shout until we woke the echoes for miles around. But it was a feeble cheer that went up from the wrecks of men squatting on the open deck. Here and there some of the stronger ones formed knots of five or six and broke into such a wild dance or walk around yelling or singing awhile, that they might have been regarded as maniacs loosed from their cells. Some knelt in silent prayer, and tear drops cut faint furrows down grimy cheeks where they had long been strangers. Others swore and cursed. They cursed everybody related to the Confederacy, and the things that had contributed to the hardships of their prison experiences, and, as if that were not material enough, they crossed. the lines and cursed Lincoln and Grant be- cause of the broken cartel. I hugged to my side the little bag of grits I had accumulated. I could not eat the grits but dared not let them go until I knew that we were surely free. I had starved so long that those broken kernels of corn were very precious. I was constantly hop- ing to barter them for something that I could eat, or possibly for a dose of quinine or some peppers. But now a gang plank was run from an opening in the side of the transport. It was lined on each side by sailors who pushed us rapidly along and aboard the big vessel. In the hold before us was a great stack of blue uni- forms and clean underclothing, complete from cap to shoes. Kind attendants, too, were there to assist us, and they said, 'Strip now, quick, take everything off, and throw your rags over- board.' And out they went through a port hole overhead. They were very filthy, for they were the remnants. of what we had worn a year and a half before in the Chattanooga
285
HISTORY OF MADISON COUNTY
campaign, remnants of what we had gained in traffic, remnants of what we had taken from the bodies of our dead. They had been held together by threads raveled from the stronger parts and held together by needles made from splinters of Georgia pine. We thought Charleston harbor a fit burying place for them all. As fast as dressed we were marched in two ranks to an upper deck, where we· passed a small window from which was handed to each of us a pound loaf of wheat bread. At another window each of us re- ceived a great piece of raw fat pork-a half pound and the sweetest morsel I ever tasted. At still another window each got a pint cup full of steaming United States coffee. It was then, when our digestive organs had something to work 'on, when we were decently clothed, and were at last free from the torture of ver- min, that lost manhood began to return. Each did not now look upon his fellow as some- thing to be watched and feared. We did not watch that night lest our bread should be stolen. In fact, it was reported that we would receive rations again in the morning-a fact heard to believe. Some, after being rationed fell into line a second and even a third time and hoarded their bread and meat. When their actions were noted they were told to take all they wanted.
"Rounding Cape Hatteras much of this bread and meat was brought to light again, and for forty-eight hours the ship presented anything but the neat and trim appearance we had noted on first coming aboard. The ship's surgeon, the officers and their wives, vied with the sailors in attentions to their passengers. Five only of our number died on the trip to Annapolis, and here, after we had been again stripped and washed, and our hair clipped close, we were put to bed between white sheets. Women came to my cot with oysters fresh from the bay, with bread and butter, jellies and pickles, with shining glass and snow- white napkins, and when I had eaten they said
"'Now you just rest and sleep, and dream of home.' When I was able to read the card at the head of my cot, I found: 'Phthisis pul- monalis, fever, general debility; diet treatment.' I cannot remember the diet nor the treatment, but I remember well the minis- trations of those women; how they hovered round my cot, touching up my pillow, and how their cool hands rested on my hot forehead. I do not know whether they were army nurses, residents of Annapolis, or members of Chris- tian and Sanitary commissions. I never knew. But the soldiers have not forgotten their min- istrations, and give to woman's loyalty and patriotism a 'royal three times three.'"
A LOCAL WAR TIME TRAGEDY By John Bringhurst
William Henderson was an escaped pris- oner of war, who had been captured in Mis- souri where he had served in Price's army. He was confined in the Federal prison at Alton from which he made his escape in company with two others, and made his way into Greene county where he was concealed by sym- pathizers until search for him had ceased. He found favoring conditions existing in the coun- ties of Greene, Jersey, Macoupin and Calhoun. The early settlers in the south-central sections of Illinois were mainly from the southern states and sympathizers with the rebellion were numerous. So largely was this senti- ment entertained in these counties, all adja- cent to or bordering on Madison, that open avowals of disloyalty were made by many of southern birth or descent without fear of un- pleasant consequences. Henderson took ad- vantage of this feeling. He allied himself with a certain Captain Carlin, of Carrollton, a member of a family that furnished Illinois with one of its early governors. Carlin was a sympathizer with the south, a man widely known and held in certain heroic esteem by the common people with whom he was accustomed
286
HISTORY OF MADISON COUNTY
to mingle freely and who looked up to him as one whose superior attainments gave him power to speak as one with authority.
Henderson and Carlin entered into com- munication with certain agents of the Vallan- digham type who were scheming to throw open the state to the invasion of a southern army, by way of Missouri. Their plot was a link in a wide-spread conspiracy to free all the Con- federates confined in Federal prisons in the north, unite them with the Knights of the Golden Circle and Sons of Liberty, and inau- gurate a conflict in the north that would call back the Union armies from the south to pro- tect their own homes.
From among the young men over the coun- try districts the plotters found material pecu- liarly suited for their purpose either by reason of home influences that rendered them ready to espouse the southern cause, or as an outlet for their surplus energies that craved advan- ture, the novelty of camp life, and the glamor of predatory raids on the Robin Hood order," for the plans of the leaders included not only the release of the inmates of the military prison at Alton but the looting of the banks in that city.
But the leaders here lost the opportunity for the success of their plans by a fatal mis- take in the selection of the arm of service for which the material they had in hand was adapted. They began training and drilling them for the infantry arm when their recruits preferred and were eminently fitted for the cavalry branch. Every young man owned his own horse and as a fearless rider had no supe- rior. He was most at home in the saddle, but the monotony of the infantry drill did not ap- peal to him. It was lacking in dash and ex- citement. The towns did not furnish as large a number of recruits for the Henderson army as the rural districts, but they did afford strong sympathetic influences from many prominent personages who looked with favor on the movement. But gradually the rigid
Need help finding more records? Try our genealogical records directory which has more than 1 million sources to help you more easily locate the available records.