USA > Illinois > History of the 112th Regiment of Illinois Volunteer Infantry, in the great war of the rebellion, 1862-1865 > Part 38
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
Goss then feigned sickness, to get to the hospital, where he thought he might more easily escape. On the morning of the 3d of June. 1864, the prison surgeons were examining sick prisoners at one of the gates of the stockade. This gate was double-an inner gate, then an open space, and then the out- or gate. The prisoners passed through the inner gate, then turned to the right and passed down to the surgeons' stand. Two guards, with fixed bayonets, were stationed at each of the gates, while other guards, in charge of sergeants and cor- porals, were stationed above and around the prisoners.
Goss passed through the inside gate and down toward the surgeons' stand, when, suddenly, and without previous reflection. he hastily retraced his steps, and taking a piece of writing paper from his pocket, straightened up, and walked boldly out between the guards at the outside gate, who sup- posed the paper was his parole and that he was going out to
455
ESCAPE FROM ANDERSONVILLE.
work. He walked to the line of prisoners who were waiting to be sent to the hospital, displayed his paper and said a few words to them, thence to a squad of guards and paroled pris- oners who were buying pies of a woman, and then to the cook- house, where some of the prisoners were at work. One of these advised him to go to the tents of the 1st Kentucky cav- alry (Col. Wolford's regiment) near by. He did so, and found them friendly. They were on parole, and employed to cut wood outside the lines. They gave him some provisions, put the parole mark on him, placed an ax on his shoulder, and all marched out through the picket lines into the woods. Here he shook hands with the Kentuckians and parted from them. The day was misty, followed by several rainy days, which probably prevented the dogs from following him. He was so weak he could hardly walk-staggered like a drunken man. He traveled fifteen miles south and then took a westerly course into Alabama. Until he reached the mountainous regions of Alabama he traveled at night, and slept in the day-time ; but once in the mountains he traveled by daylight and slept at night. He slept in gin-houses, barns, unoccupied sheds and negro cabins. One night he slept under a tree, and as he awoke at day-break a huge snake glided away from him. He traveled one whole day in the forest, and at night came to the place from where he had started in the morning-having un- consciously walked in a circle. He was supplied with provi- sions by the negroes-who were ever faithful friends-until he reached Alabama, where he found many Union white people, who assisted him, supplied him with provisions, and directed him on his way.
He crossed from Georgia into Alabama at Columbus, on the Chattahoochee River, and then proceeding north, reached the Union lines at Rome, Ga., on the 4th of July, 1864; and his persistent determination to escape from the rebels was fi- nally rewarded with success. He endured many hardships, suffered many times with hunger and fatigue: but freedom from rebel cruelties and the restraints of prison life more than repaid him ; and then the satisfaction of having successfully eluded the vigilance of the officers and guards was alone worth many days of hunger and weary wandering in the mountains.
CAPTURE, PRISON LIFE AND ESCAPE
OF GEORGE W NICHOLAS, OF COMPANY E, 112TH ILLINOIS.
Written by himself. Edited by B. F THOMPSON.
On the 15th of November, 1863, while the 112th Illinois was resting at Lenoir, in East Tennessee, and discussing the prob- ability of going into "winter quarters,"-on the strength of which the orderly sergeant of my company and I had built a log cabin, and part of the 9th Army Corps had torn down a church and used the lumber in the erection of shanties,-one of the pickets stationed at Park's Ferry, on the Holston River. came into camp sick, and I was detailed to take his place; so I saddled my little sorrel horse, and taking my trusty Enfield, started for the picket post,-glad to get away from camp .- es- pecially as I had been informed there was excellent foraging in the country near the river.
Little did I think, as I left camp, that fifteen long months would elapse before I should again see the officers and com- rades of my company but such was the case.
The picket post was about four miles south east of Camp- bell's Station. where the battle with Longstreet was fought the next day. There were twenty pickets, divided into two squads of ten men each -- one occupying a log cabin on the north bank of the Holston, and one another cabin about forty rods north, on the road to Campbell's Station-both in command of Serg. Solomon Dixon, of Co. E, of the 112th.
The picket post was in a bend of the river : and we were or- dered by Capt. Otman, officer of the guard, to hold the position until relieved or driven back by the rebels. We were relieved
457
NARRATIVE OF PRISON LIFE.
sooner than we expected. We were enjoying ourselves hugely, shooting squirrels and pigs, and digging potatoes, and had made arrangements to go up the river, the second night after I joined the pickets, to kill "Aunt Susie's" pet bear, and have a general feast. But the fortunes of war changed our plans. Before night came some of Longstreet's Texans made their appearance on the opposite side of the river, and claimed tlie bear, and told us we had better "git out of thar," or we would be captured. We didn't dispute their title to the bear, but we refused to "git." One very intelligent rebel came down to the water's edge and held a lengthy conversation with us. He said he had formerly lived in Illinois, and had a cousin in the 112th Illinois by the name of Thompson, and was anxious to learn something about him. He said we would all be on our way to Atlanta the next day if we didn't leave there, and advised ns to get away while we could. But we did not leave, all the same. Our sergeant said his orders were to remain there un- til reliered by Union soldiers, or driren back, and he proposed to obey orders whatever might be the consequences. He didn't intend to be relieved by a rebel detail, nor to fall back until compelled to. During the day the I'nion forces retired from Lenoir. They made a stand at Campbell's Station, but by night were above Concord. and we were doing picket duty in rear of the rebel army
Serg. Dixon encouraged ns by saying we would soon be re- lieved, and he sent two men up towards Concord to see what the rebels were doing, Before they returned our relief squad came. It consisted of one hundred men of the 5th Georgia cavalry. They said we were wanted at Concord. They must have placed a high estimate upon our fighting qualities (as they knew our numbers, and had a trusty guide) to send one hundred men to capture twenty "high privates." While re- turning from the Saunders Raid into East Tennessee, in the preceding summer, the Union force was surrounded; and this same 5th Georgia cavalry formed in line of battle between the detachment of the 112th and the foot of the mountain to pre- vent us from reaching the mountain road ; and we charged upon them and put them to flight,-so we found ourselves among old acquaintances. They were very clever and socia-
458
HISTORY OF THE 112TH ILLINOIS.
ble boys, treated us respectfully and permittel us to ride our horses to Concord. On the road a rebel soldier heard the tick of William Barr's watch. and requested Barr to hand it over to him, but they took no clothing nor money from us. We reached camp about four o'clock in the morning, and were al- lowed to sit by a good fire until daylight. By sunrise the camp was astir and the troops making hurried preparations to follow Burnside. They said they had burnt his sides in Virginia and they would burn them again at Knoxville. We replie:1 that they would have lots of dead "Johnnies" to bury before they got into Knoxville. They ate their breakfast, replenish- ed their cartridge boxes, and pulled out-but they did not in- vite us to eat with them.
We saw no more of our horses, but were marclied on foot to Campbell's Station. Here we saw some of the effects of the battle the day before. A shell had exploded in the second story of a dwelling house and torn it to pieces, and feathers from beds, clothing, and numerous other articles were scatter- ed over the yard. An old barn in the vicinity was completely riddled. We saw a number of dead Union soldiers lying about, unburied, but recognized none of them until we came to a boy lying in a fence corner, stripped of his clothing, whom we all identified as Robert Piatt, of Co. H. of the 112th .-- but we learned afterward that we were mistaken.
Our guards wanted to turn us over to another regiment, but they refused to receive us. They then inquired of a colonel who was passing what they should do with us, and he rephed. "Take the d- Yankee s -- of b- out in the timber and shoot them."
They finally marched us towards Knoxville. About sunset we came to a crib containing a few bushels of ear corn, and were told to take enough for our supper and breakfast. We were then marched to an old straw stack and ordered to lie there until morning. Having no mill to grind our corn, nor pot to boil it in, we ate it raw. I did not sleep that night. I made up my mind to escape and go to Knoxville, before morn- ing, but the guard was too vigilant for my purpose, and I was compelled to give it up.
In the morning we ate the remainder of our corn and start-
459
NARRATIVE OF PRISON LIFE.
ed early towards Knoxville. In reply to our inquiry as to why they were taking us in that direction, the guards said they ex- pected to capture the whole of Burnside's army, and they would then have us all together. We reached a large brick dwelling house where Dr. Baker had lived, and were halted and rested some time. A division of Longstreet's infantry was here,-Texas troops, I believe,-ragged. barefooted and dirty. Dr. Baker had been killed by Union troops during the Saun- ders raid, and some of our boys unguardedly mentioned the fact that they were among the raiders who had killed hitr. This brought upon us a storm of abuse and curses. One of- ficer especially, cursed loud and deep, and heaped all manner of vile epithets upon the heads of the "d- blue b ---- d Yan- kees," for killing "the best citizen in East Tennessee." After they had exhausted their vocabulary of oaths, a rebel captain jumped up and said, "Fall into line, you G- d- Yankee S ---- of b ---. " We fell in, and dressed in line, and he gave the order, "To the rear, ten paces, march !" We began to think that meant business ; that they intended to shoot us, then and there, in retaliation for the killing of Dr. Baker. I felt my hair raising, and began to think of the dear ones at home: We could die in battle, if necessary. without complain- ing-that would be an honorable death ; but to be shot down like dogs, while prisoners of war-murdered-that was terri- ble. But we were soon relieved of suspense. The next order came, "Pull off your boots !" and in three minutes his dirty. ragged Texans were wearing our boots.
We were about-faced and started back toward Campbell's Station. We marched until night, and slept in a straw stack, without dinner or supper, and the next day continued our march, without breakfast or dinner, to Loudon, where we ar- rived at dark, and were placed in an old livery stable. We met many stragglers from Longstreet's army on the road, hard- looking customers, who insulted and jeered at us as they pass- ed. Our guards were fearful of meeting Col. Byrd's regiment -the 1st East Tennessee-which they understood was at Kingston, and might attempt to recapture us ; and I heard the sergeant instruct his men, in case they were attacked, to shoot the prisoners and then run. We would have been glad
460
HISTORY OF THE 112TH ILLINOIS.
to meet the 1st East Tennessee and run our chances of being shot.
The rebels had captured a deserter the night before, and had him confined, closely guarded, in a separate stall in the stable. He had been in both armies, and deserted from both, and was captured at home. He said he would be shot in the morning, and gave us his money, saying it could do him no good and might benefit us. We lay down on the hard floor, weary and supperless, to meditate upon our unhappy fate, and, perchance, to sleep. The next morning we received a little raw beef and flour-the first rations issued to us since our capture-not more than enough for one meal, if well cook- ed ; but as we had no cooking utensils, and could not eat raw beef and flour, we made a light breakfast, and were then hur- ried on the train bound for Atlanta. We passed down through Athens, and caught a glimpse of our old camp, and a view of the hill where Capt. Otman and I lay concealed. after we were cut off at Calhoun, on the 26th of September, while the old negro, "Uncle George," supplied us with provisions, and where the 112th Band gave us the first signal of the approach of Un- ion troops ; and as I looked, I involuntarily listened for strains of music, and peered through the cracks of the old box car to see if the 112th were not again marching into the town. But, alas! I could hear no music, could see no soldiers in blue. and I turned away home-sick, heart-sick and despondent.
The train stopped at Cleveland, a short time, and we trad- od our beef and four to an old lady for pies and cake. This was the first decent food we had after our capture. We arriv- ed at Dalton at night, and were guarded in an old church, or school house, and received a few "hard tack" for supper. The next day proceeded to Atlanta, where we arrived in the even- ing. Our car was immediately surrounded by a curious crowd of wretched looking Georgia "crackers," whose hair had never seen comb nor scissors, whose faces were strangers to soap and water, whose clothes were dirty, ragged and "slouchy," and whose manners were worse than all the rest. We were marched to the outskirts of the city and turned into a pen called a "military prison." It contained one small shed, which was already full to overflowing, and we slept on the ground
461
NARRATIVE OF PRISON LIFE.
outside. On the way out to the pen, one of the guards, who seemed an honest, clever fellow, told me our blankets and ov- ercoats would be taken from us when we left there, and he of- fered to buy mine. I sold him my blanket for five dollars, Confederate money-worth seventy-five cents-and that night I nearly froze. In the morning they issued to the prisoners some corn meal and meat, with only one old broken pot and part of an old skillet for over two hundred men to cook in. Here we first saw the ball and chain : several prisoners were wearing them for attempting to escape.
We remained here only two days. Seven day's rations were issued to the prisoners, and we were informed that we would start for Richmond. Our commissary was a captain of an Ohio regiment, and in distributing the ratiohs he gave his own men the major part. and the rest very little. That company Occupied a car by themselves and we could not get to them, or there would have been trouble.
As we marched out we passed through the "stripping squad," which relieved the boys of blankets and overcoats. This caus- ed a great deal of swearing among our men; but the "strip- pers" said they could not help it, that they were acting under orders and had to obey, whether they liked to do so or not. We were loaded in box cars, and proceeded to Augusta. Here we changed cars, and, in marching through town to another depot, some of our men were attacked by citizens with knives, but the prisoners were protected by the guards. Here we saw the finest company of militia "home guards" I erer looked up- on. The men were all of the same height-about five feet, --- and four feet through-and all wore high plug hats. They be- longed to the "aristocracy, sah." In passing a grocery store we asked the proprietor to sell us some apples. He swore we might starve before he would sell us anything. But Augusta contained some noble kind-hearted women, who secretly sup- plied the prisoners with pies, cakes and other eatables. Leav- ing Augusta, we crossed the river and struck into the swampy country of South Carolina. We ran out to Branchville, and stopped there an hour or two.
One of our guards went out and got a basket of corn-bread and sweet potatoes, but refused to sell any until the train had.
462
HISTORY OF THE 112TH ILLINOIS.
started. We were out of rations and hungry, but we could not prevail on him to sell. Before the train started, however, he fell asleep, and when he awoke his baskets were empty. He was very angry. He said that he had paid sixty-five dollars for the bread and potatoes, and we might go to - before he would get any more.
From here we ran to Wilmington, crossel.the Cape Fear River on a ferry boat, and stood for hours on the bank of the river, shivering with cold, waiting for the tia n. They at last made up a train of gravel cars, and loaded us on them. It was windy and cold ; the train ran rapidly, and we nearly per- ished-the wind pierced us through and through. We begged the guard to stop the train, and allow us to build fires. This they did ; and we piled on earth and wood and built two or three fires on each car, which made us more comfortable. That night we were put into box cars in which cattle had been shipped, and the cars not cleaned. They were very dirty, but preferable to the open flat cars. After six days of starvation and freezing we were dumped out on Belle Isle, where there were already about five hundred prisoners. The prison camp was on a level, flat, sand-bar, on the lower end of the island, opposite Richmond, in the James River, and contained about five acres, enclosed by a small earthwork thrown up all around it. We were turned in here, on the last day of November, barefooted, with no blankets, overcoats or tents-nothing but the cold sand to sleep on, and no wood for fires. Part of the prisoners already there had some kind of tents, but there were about one hundred who had neither tents nor clothing. They dug holes in the sand and crawled into them to keep warm, and nearly all of them froze to death. Our Co. E boys were exceedingly lucky ; for the second day there they drew a good wedge tent. It was a tight fit for twenty men, but we man- aged to wedge in. We slept "spoon-fashion," and when we wanted to turn over the command would be given, "right spoon," or "left spoon," and all turned at the same time.
For a time the rebels gave us corn bread, meat soup, and occasionally raw turnips; but this did not last long. In a short time we were fed upon corn bread alone, and for eight weeks we had not a mouthful to eat except cold corn bread,
463
NARRATIVE OF PRISON LIFE.
and very little of that. The weather was bitter cold, but in all that time we had not a stick of wood nor a spark of fire. Dur- ing the winter the Rev D. L. Moody, the great Evangelist, vis- ited us, and distributed clothing, and shoes and socks, and a blanket or overcoat to each man-goods furnished by the loy- al, Christian people of the North ; but some of the boys were so nearly starved they traded their clothing for something to eat. We were driven out of camp every few days and compell- ed to stand in line until we were nearly frozen, while the rebel officers counted the prisoners. Some wild onions grew on the island which we wanted to pull, but the request was denied with many loud and blood-curdling oaths. Five of our com- pany, Serg. Solomon Dixon, James Ray, Simon Ray, George 0. Marlatt and John D. Swaim, died from exposure and star- vation.
About the middle of March we were ordered out and marched over to the city, and informed that we were to be exchanged. We were so weak from hunger and cold and lack of exercise that we could hardly walk, but the boys were in high glee, as they expected to be exchanged.
We were placed in a building nearly opposite Libby Prison, and remained there until nearly morning, when we were or- dered out to be marched, as we supposed down to the river for exchange. But when the head of the column filed right and niarched west towards the railroad, our hearts began to sink. We then realized that we had been deceived. We were order- ed into the cars, and the train pulled out, south. The train stopped some time at Petersburg, and again our hopes revived -- we might be sent down to City Point, for exchange-but again we were sadly disappointed. The train again started south, and about the first of April we were landed at Ameri- cus, Ga., and thence marched, between a strong line of guards on either side, to the notorious slaughter-house called Ander- sonville. The large gate swung open, we marched in, the gate closed, and we were in a hell upon earth, the torments of which have never been equalled in this world, and cannot be surpassed in the next. It was dark, and we were weary, hun- gry and sleepy ; and we spread our blankets and lay down on the little parcel of ground allotted to us, and were soon asleep.
464
HISTORY OF THE 112TH ILLINOIS.
The next morning we took a survey of the camp. It contained about sixteen acres, with a small creek running through it from west to east, on each side of which was a miry swamp, so soft and shaky one could not walk across it. On each side of this the sand hills sloped upward, to the north and south. There were no trees standing except two pines on the east side. There were no barracks, no tents-not even a hospital tent-in the enclosure.
I think there were about a thousand prisoners confined there when we arrived-the hardest looking lot of men I ever saw --- poor, ragged, dirty, covered with vermin, and as black as ne- groes-smoked by the pitch pine fires. The prison was en- closed with pine logs set close together on end in the ground four or five feet, and about sixteen feet above ground. Near the top were the sentry boxes, where the guards stood; and about fifteen feet inside of the stockade was the dead line. This had been made by driving down stakes and nailing poles on top of them ; and woe be to the poor fellow who approached too near this line. The young boys on guard frequently shot prisoners who were not near the dead line, "just for fun."
I will not attempt to depict the character of the inhuman monster who was in command of the prison. Abler pens than mine have failed to do the subject justice ; no language can express his unfeeling cruelty, his brutal, cowardly and barbar- ous treatment of the unfortunate men whom the chances of war had thrown in his power. His face denoted the true char- acter of the man, and the rebel authorities selected wisely when they detailed him as the tool to do their cruel work.
I have seen this miserable wretch place men in the stocks or chain gang, for no offense whatever, and leave them in the hot sun until they died, and their comrades were powerless to aid them ; in fact, to offer aid, or even to express sympathy for them, would have subjected any man to the same torture.
The rations issued to the men were of the poorest quality, and in small quantities. I have seen bacon issued that was alive with maggots. The corn bread was burned to a black crust on the outside and was raw inside. Sometimes they is- sued "mush." This they hauled in in a wagon, and threw out with a scoop, as Illinois farmers throw out corn to their hogs.
465
NARRATIVE OF PRISON LIFE.
For want of dishes the men used old boot legs, or old shoes, or a drawer or pants leg, made into a bag, or their hats or caps, if they had any, to keep their food in, and to eat from.
We had not been there a very long time until several Co. E boys were down with diarrhea, and began to die. The first to go was Noah Fantz-as good a soldier as ever carried a gun. We did all we could to save him, but our efforts were in vain. He died under a brush shed, called a "hospital," with a stick of wood under his head for a pillow
The rebels then put up some brush sheds outside for "hospit- als," and the rest of the boys who died were in them, and we could not see them. The next to go was John Cole, then Wil- liam B. Barr, then William W MeMillen, Charles B. Davis, Michael Springer and James Elston-as noble boys and good soldiers as ever shouldered a gun. (The Confederate records showed that Cole died first, then Barr).
I waited upon one poor fellow who lay on the ground near our quarters, with no shelter over him. until he died. All the clothing he had on was part of a shirt and part of a pair of drawers. Every day I had to clean maggots out of his mouth, nose, eyes and ears, and from between his fingers and toes. The ground was alive with them, on account of the filth. I mention this only as an illustration of thousands like it. Some days during the summer months as many as seventy- five died inside the stockake. This does not include those in the "hospitals" outside. We had no means of knowing the number that died there, but we did know that very few indeed who entered the "hospitals" came out alive.
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.