USA > Indiana > History of the Forty-sixth regiment Indiana volunteer infantry : September, 1861-September, 1865 > Part 12
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Groups of prisoners were tied up by the thumbs for some trifling offense, and suspended so that their toes barely touched the ground, and for days were brought out and subjected to this tor- ture, two hours at a time. Strong men subjected to this punish- ment, under a July sun, would faint and fall as far as the ligatures. would allow, and would be cut down as soon as a lazy, vicious rebel found it convenient to go to their assistance.
Prisoners were shot down without any attempt at justifica- - tion. A man was near the gate, asking permission to go out for- wood. The guard ordered him to go away. The man turned to obey, when the guard deliberately shot him through the heart.
A man named Colvert, of the Seventy-seventh Ohio, while- quietly walking within the proper limits, was inhumanly shot down by a boy fourteen years of age, who was, perhaps, ambitious of something to boast of among his associates and tutors.
S. O. Shoenicker, of the One Hundred and Thirtieth Illinois, while sitting in his hut pleading with a friend to become religious, was shot dead by a guard, twenty yards behind him. The guard explained that he had a brother killed in battle, and said, "I was- bound to kill some d --- d Yankee for it." As a punishment for- the outrage, the boy received a furlough for thirty days.
A member of the One Hundred and Seventy-third New York was killed while walking towards the fence to obtain his hat, which: had blown off. The man who did this act merely remarked, "That's three."
A member of the Thirty-sixth Iowa was shot while walking along the usual path, early in the evening. Both arms were. broken, and the heart was perforated by the ball. He fell in the. arms of his brother, and the brutal murderer was not even chided. for his deed.
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An Indian, belonging to the Fourteenth Kansas, was killed as wantonly as any of those mentioned.
The men who committed these outrages belonged to Colonels- Sweet and Brown's battalions.
Barbarous as the treatment of these prisoners was, it was no. exception to the rule of treatment of prisoners by the rebels in.
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REBEL PRISON.
authority. It was not the result of an isolated case of the appoint- ment of a brute, without a single instinct of humanity in his breast, by mistake, as prison commandant, but was the result of a hellish design conceived and put in force by "Jeff" Davis and his co-con- spirators. The orders of those highest in authority were simply carried out by those in immediate charge of the pens. The con- trast between the treatment of these' unfortunate men and all others who fell into rebel hands with the treatment of rebels who were fortunate or unfortunate enough to fall into the hands of the Union forces, will always be the brightest page of American his- tory. The rebels who were in the Union prisons were well fed and warmly clad and honsed, with the best medical attendance, and all that could be desired except their liberty.
RATIONS AND HOSPITAL.
The regular ration consisted of a pint of corn meal, in the bran, and about a pound of beef, with a little salt, for each man; but a full ration, even by this standard, was never seen. The articles received were of the most inferior quality. The meat was often unfit for use. The supply of cooking utensils was not suf- ficient for a fourth of those who required them. A small allow- ance of wood was brought in, but so meager was the supply, that a large portion of the men would have none. Those having no way to cook their beef lost it. Provisions could be bought of out- siders, but the prices put them beyond the reach of nearly all. How some of the boys wished for a supply of "Northern Indiana railroad" money! The officers of the camp permitted every advantage to be taken of the starving inmates, and seemed to co-operate in creating a demand for what there was to sell.
The hospital was a new wooden building ereeted in the woods near by. It was large enough for thirty patients, which was about one-third of the average sick requiring treatment. Sick men were usually carried out to the hospital only when it became apparent that death would soon ensue. In the hospital, the sick were put on rude wooden bunks, with nothing to smooth or soften them. No blankets or comforts of any kind were furnished. The only advantage in the hospital, over the eamp, was that the men were raised off the ground -- a gain of dryness, at the expense of comfort. The same rations were issued to sick and well. If a sick man had a blanket, he was fortunate ; but if he had none, he
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was obliged to suffer without it. The majority laid almost naked, on the bare boards, and were left to get well or die, as the disease or their constitution determined.
The medical department was in keeping with all else. A sur- geon was detailed, whose duty it was to visit the siek. He usually visited the camp about once a week, and pretended to have an inspection, but usually he came at such times as few only knew of of his presence. When he was seen, he issued eurses liberally, and common, dirty drugs most sparingly. The monthly allowance of medicines to camp was not sufficient for one day's treatment of the more simple cases. In short, the whole thing was a brutal and systematie plan to compel men to die.
REMOVAL TO CAMP CROCE.
Ox the 12th of August, 506 of the prisoners were ordered to Camp Groce, a distance of 200 miles south. The unfortunate ones were taken from every regiment in the camp, and made up of the unruly members of the prison community. Officers and men who had made themselves obnoxious to the authorities by resisting or protesting against their treatment as prisoners of war, and those who had made attempts to escape, were selected to make up this detachment.
Not over ten minutes' notice was given of the proposed march. The rations of the day had not been issued, and there was nothing to be taken to eat. Rations, it was said, would follow in wagons. The line was soon formed outside, but the march was delayed many hours, while the men were kept in the burning sun, without water, wearying with a delay that seemed without cause, except for the purpose of torturing them. John Shaffer, Jasper N. Mullins, Robert Lewis and David Garbison, of the Forty-sixth, being sick, were not taken, though called out. The road, for the entire distance, ran through a pine and oak barren, extremely . broken, and interspersed with narrow strips of timber, with an occasional stretch of from five to six miles of desert, without a shrub or scarcely a blade of grass. The sand was scorching hot and ankle deep, and with the greatest scarcity of water. Fifteen miles frequently intervened between watering places. When water was reached it was scarce. The guards had to be served first, then the horses, and then the men could try for it. There were not over fifty canteens in the lot, and no way of carrying water,
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CAMP GROCE.
In justice to the guards on this excursion, it should be said that they were the best class yet met. They belonged to the Twenty- first Texas, and numbered 250. The intense heat, without water, caused many of the prisoners to drop by the roadside, where they were guarded until night came, and then were obliged to overtake the column. There were six or eight wagons assigned for the sick and exhausted, but they did not accommodate one-fourth of the number of those utterly unable to march. Many were without shirts, their naked backs blistered by the sun. A large proportion were without shoes, their feet burning in the hot sand. Many were with uncovered heads, exposed to the almost perpendicular rays of the sun. It would be fruitless to attempt to portray the horrors of that distressing march. Those who made it will never forget it.
Camp Groce was at last made, when the saddest days in the prisoners' experience commenced. There were confined in this camp about fifty soldiers, and the officers and crews of the " Wave" and "Granite City," captured at Calcasieu Pass, on the 6th of May, 1864-in all, about 150 men. They were all siek with fever and ague. Of these, eighty died before November. The living were in the most destitute condition.
This prison was fifty-one miles above Houston, on the Houston & Texas Central railroad, and two miles from the town of Hemp- stead. It was situated in a sharp bend and within a few miles of the Brazos river. It was almost entirely surrounded by a strip of low, marshy ground, impregnating the air with a deadly malaria. About one and a half acres of ground were inelosed with a tight stockade some twelve feet high. The prison was supplied with water from two wells, which were found filled with rubbish and filth. These, with great labor, were fitted for use, and furnished a supply of slimy and unhealthy water. There were board barracks, sufficient to accomodate 650 men, but in a most dilapidated condition.
The rations of this camp when the new delegation arrived, were some better than in the one just left, but they were soon con- tracted to uncomfortable proportions. This camp was commanded by an Irish captain, who had been a corporal in the regular army, and was in Texas at the breaking out of the rebellion, when the infamous Twiggs so disgracefully betrayed his trust, and gave up his command of trained soldiers to a cowardly mob. Of the com- panies of the prison guards, one was Irish, one German, and two
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THE FORTY-SIXTH INDIANA.
were Texans. The men of the two first were, almost to a man,. loyal. They showed the prisoners every possible favor and kind- ness, when not under the eye of their officers. Numerous instances. occurred when the guards, after dark, passed out prisoners, and even by ropes, let prisoners down on the outside, and furnished them rations for their journey. As many as thirty, in rapid suc- cession, have gone over the stockade on a moonlight night, either- by the help of the guard, or through their disregard of duty. These attempts to escape were no more successful than at Camp. Ford. After wandering about the country a few days, the fugi- tives were brought back, having become sick and given themselves up, or were captured by the local force. Some, doubtless, died in the wilderness.
The men transferred from Camp Ford had not been long in their new quarters before they were, many of them, taken down with fevers, and by the middle of September, there were not 100. well men in the camp. The prison presented a most deplorable spectacle. Men crazed with fever ran hither and thither, like mad men. Night and day the cries of the sick filled the air. Men awakened in the morning, after a night of horror, to find their bunk-mates dead by their side. No medicines were to be had until disease had become general in the camp, and many were beyond the reach of any remedy. The surgeon whose duty it was to visit. the sick seldom came, and when he did he was drunk, and dis -- tributed curses instead of medicine. Many days would pass before. any medical attendance or relief, beyond what could be furnished by the prisoners, could be had. This hideous drama was most appropriately closed by the death of the fiendish surgeon with delirium tremens.
After this, those who were thought too siek to be treated in camp, were taken to the hospital at Hempstead. From ten to. fifteen sick men would be jammed into a wagon and carried to the hospital, over rough roads, and through the scorching sun. Four. · inen died during these murderous transits, and were rattled along with their suffering comrades to town.
THE HOSPITAL AT HEMPSTEAD.
This institution was the low garret of a church. The roof was almost within reach of the patients. There was no side win -. dow-no place for ventilation except the small gable windows ..
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HEMPSTEAD.
'The inner view of this den was most horrible. There was only enough light to make the scene visible, and the filthy and noisome effluvia that pervaded the place, drove away all who were not com- pelled to remain. The fresh air, so greatly needed by the fevered sufferers, seemed to turn in disgust and abhorrence from the thresh- hold of this cavern.
The sick were crowded together as thick as it was possible to wedge them -one tier over another, on rough boards, and gener- ally with no mattress or straw. If a man had no blanket, which was generally the case, he laid in his rags on the hard boards. There were a few mattresses belonging to the Confederacy, but these, from long use, had become so foul that they were refused by all. Helpless and without assistance, the sick were compelled to disregard all considerations of cleanliness.
CHANGE OF CAMP.
IN September the yellow fever broke ont at Galveston, and soon reached Houston and other points north. The Confederate guard at the prison, fearing the disease might reach the camp, openly threatened to leave and let the prisoners take care of them" selves. On this the authorities determined to move the camp. On the 20th the prisoners were taken west of the Brazos river and .encamped twenty-five miles from the railroad, on a low, wet, marshy creek bottom.
There were now only 500 of the original 650 men left. Of these only seventy five were well. On the journey the sick were crowded together in rough wagons, fifteen to a load. Only those "who were not able to walk were allowed to ride. Those whom the bayonet could persuade along were obliged to march on foot. Very few were able to make each day's march with any comfort, but they had to go or suffer constant insult and abuse. The transportation was limited, and many dragged themselves along until they could .do so no longer, when they fell exhausted and were left to follow when they could, or be picked up when it suited the guard to go back for them. On this move six men died in the wagons, and were hastily tumbled into holes dug by the wayside.
At this camp, siek and well alike had no beds but the damp ground, and no shelter but such as they could construct with brush. "They were closely packed on less than half an acre of ground, where the cooking and living was done. Sinks were dug inside
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the lines, which in the hot sun became unendurable. Water was. obtained from pools along the bed of the creek -green, filthy and rank with disease and death. As usual, above the camp the horses. of the rebels, numbering nearly 500, were kept, watered and cleaned. The dirt of a filthy rebel camp was intentionally thrown into the water. On the banks of the stream were the sinks of the rebels. The rains brought down all this disgusting material, and left the prisoners no alternative but to use that water or none.
The sickness rapidly increased. The medical appliances were less plenty than at the other pens. Each morning roll-call found men present in body but absent in spirit. Death had released them. The dead would be found lying upon the ground in the mud, having been denied the satisfaction of a bed, and with no covering except the miserable rags forming their dress. Around these- - would be set a guard -a formality meant to be considered respect- ful, but, under the circumstances, an insult.
ANOTHER MOVE.
Ox the 3d of October, owing to heavy rains and cold winds, ft was decreed again to move the camp. A march of twenty-five miles was made to an old camp meeting ground, near the town of Chappel Hill, where were some sheds and shelter, upon which the encampment was formed. The move from the old camp was much like the former marches, rendered worse by a more general and thorough exhaustion of the men. Now, a well man was a curiosity - none were well. As before, several died on the wagons or by the roadside.
The new camp was also located on a piece of wet ground. There was a springy ridge above it, which kept the pen constantly damp. As before, there was no shelter for the prisoners, and they had the ground only for a bed. The cold rains of October had now set in, and night after night the camp resounded with the piteous moans of the sick and suffering, aggravated by the distress- ing cough, which never ceased. Ghostly forms crowded around seanty fires, striving to warm their attenuated bodies, and keep in circulation the sluggish blood. And this experience ran through many nights of rain and wind.
About the 15th of October, for the first time, the prison was. furnished with better medicines, but still far from a sufficiency. A surgeon, comparatively a humane man, abounding in good
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CHAPPEL HILL PRISON.
promises, of limited action and energy, was allotted to the prison. Health began to improve, but the death rate was four or five per day. There was abundant shelter for 2,000 men, consisting of sheds and board houses, erected by and for the families who came there for religious purposes, in times past. In these were quar- tered about 400 soldiers - the guard; the rest was taken up by the horses, equipments and forage. The established system to wear out and destroy the prisoners would have been defeated in a measure, had they been allowed to have occupied the sheds that were empty. About the last of October, the yellow fever having subsided, the prisoners were moved back to Camp Groce. On this journey, after having tramped over 400 miles from the place of capture, the first railroad transportation of the campaign was fur- nished the prisoners, and a ride of fifteen miles enjoyed by them.
The condition of the men on their return to Camp Groce was most deplorable. There were 440 of the original number. With the exception of six successful escapes, all the rest had fallen vic- tims of the infamous treatment to which they had been subjected by the scoundrels who had them in charge. Not one in ten of the prisoners had a hat, about one in twenty a blanket, a few had shirts, a few pantaloons, but the majority were clothed in collee- tions of rags that defied description. Only a few had shoes.
What are known as "northers," now frequently occurred. Their suddenness rendered them more severe. Often, with the thermometer at seventy, dark clouds would start up in the north- west, and in one or two hours the temperature would fall to thirty- five. As the season advanced, these storms increased in frequency and intensity, and they were more effective on the prisoners than a regular spell of colder weather. The general misery of the pris- oners was greatly augmented by their inability to hear from home, or in any way to obtain information in relation to the progress of the war. Nothing was known about the great armies of the Nation -- of their condition or progress. The exaggerated stories of the rebels were known to be false, because unreason- able and improbable. It was known that the Red river expe- dition was a disastrous failure, and it was feared that similar defeats had been suffered in other departments.
Nothing had been heard of the Forty-sixth regiment but what was contained in a short letter from Colonel Bringhurst, written about June 14th, while on the Mississippi, to Colonel Flory. At the time, the regiment was going home on "veteran furlough."
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THE FORTY-SIXTH INDIANA.
At Camp Ford, in November, a letter was received from Colonel B., by the four members of the regiment then remaining. It informed them that the regiment was in Kentucky. With these exceptions, nothing was known of the comrades of the prisoners, with whom they had been constantly in company, in camp or field, for nearly three years. The Houston Telegraph was the vehicle of news received by the neighborhood about Camp Groce. In it were published the most startling accounts of Federal defeats and rebel victories. Every action was a Federal disaster, and ruin seemed constantly impending over the Nation. With . all this, there ran through the rebel soldiery an anticipation of defeat, which belied all their boasts and predictions.
At Camp Ford, on the 4th of July, the commandant permitted the prisoners to celebrate the day, with the condition that no reference was to be made to the war, or to the questions at issue between the North and the South, in speeches. Colonel Dugane, "of the Seventy-fifth New York; Colonel Flory, of the Forty-sixth Indiana, and Captain Crocker, of the gunboat Clifton, and others, made patriotic speeches, which were highly appreciated by the large audience. Patriotic songs were sung, and over 300 sat down to dinner, at the aristocratic price of four dollars a ticket.
On the Sth of November, the Camp Ford prisoners held an election for President of the United States. The matter was first suggested by the rebel commandant, Colonel Brown. He said the votes of men coming from so many States would indicate the result in the actual vote. The idea was readily adopted by the prisoners, and preparations made for the important occasion. The camp was divided into wards, and persons indicated distributed slips of paper in each. At roll-eall, on the morning of the 8th, the tickets were dropped into hats, brought together, and counted. The pro- ceeding was altogether fair. There was no bribery nor undue influence used. The count showed 615 votes for General MeCiel- lan and 1,665 for Mr. Lincoln. To make the affair more real, sev- eral fights came off, with the usual amount of damage to the par- ticipants. Colonel Brown was astonished at the result. He had predicted another result, now he declared that Mr. Lincoln would be re-elected, and admitted the probable collapse of the Confederacy. He bought three gallons of whisky, and, with his officers, got glo- rionsly drunk over the "indication."
On the 13th of December, 342 men and officers, including all of the Forty-sixth present, were notified that they were to be
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NEW ORLEANS.
paroled and to proceed to New Orleans, by way of Houston and ·Galveston, immediately. It did not take long to prepare for that move.
The paroled men were conveyed to Galveston by railroad, where they were detained only a few hours, as a steamer was await- ing them. With some of the rebel guards, who were as anxious to get away, the late prisoners were soon happy and safe under the stars and stripes. In thirty-six hours the party was landed on the New Orleans levee, and felt that the sufferings of so many weary months were over.
During the voyage across the gulf, John Cunningham, of the Forty-sixth, died and was buried at sea. Joseph Davis, of the Forty-sixth, died in the hospital shortly after reaching New Orleans. After living through so much, thus to die almost in sight of home!
Of this regiment, John Meredith died at Camp Ford, Jacob Oliver at Hempstead, and Robert Lewis and George Lane at Camp Groce. Thomas S. Evans died on the plains, in endeavoring to escape. Information was brought from Camp Ford, by Jasper N. Mullins, who left there in March. There were then 1,500 Federal prisoners there, among them Daniel Garbinson, the only representa- tive of the Forty-sixth.
At Shreveport, among others of different regiments, were John Shaffer, Alexander Reed and William Bacome. The two latter had escaped from Camp Groce, were retaken, and taken to Shreve- port. Mullins escaped from Camp Ford by taking the place of Enoch O'Brien, of the Forty-third Indiana. That regiment was called out for parole, and as O'Brien's death, which had occurred a month before, was undiscovered, Mullins answered to the name and was paroled.
On the 13th of November, Lieutenant Colonel Flory, of the Forty-sixth, and Captain W. B. Loring, of the United States Navy, left the prison at 4 o'clock in the afternoon. It was the custom of the prison commandant to give passes each day to Federal officers to pass out on parole, not to escape. On this occasion, a pass was written by one of these officers, who put the commandant's name to it. With their blankets under their arms, ostensibly to collect brush, they presented themselves at the gate, showed the passes and went out. They had previously sent out, by friends, some provisions and rebel clothing, which had been deposited in an appointed place. On getting out, the officers went to a thicket and waited until dark, in the meantime putting on the Confederate
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THE FORTY-SIXTH INDIANA.
suits. At dark they started, and traveled as rapidly and steadily as possible all night. It was estimated that they made at least. thirty miles that night, which put them beyond the hounds. The escape was discovered the next morning, and the cavalry and hounds immediately put on their track, but neither made that day the distance covered by the fugitives the night before, and the chase was given up. At daylight the travelers stopped "twenty minutes for breakfast," and pushed on, and in twenty-four hours. after leaving prison, were fifty-five miles away, with twenty miles. of swamp between them and their old abode. The prisoners were. then on the head waters of the San Jacinto, aud in a perfect wilderness.
This description of country extends a distance of 100 miles, and is without a sign of habitation. The region is traversed by the San Jacinto, the Trinity and the Neches rivers, with their numerous tributaries, and is covered with heavy timber and dense. canebrakes, matted together with briers and other kinds of tangled growth, common to some parts of the South. Heavy pine forests lay across the track, hundreds of acres of which had fallen from the effects of fire, forming a most intricate abatis, grown up with an immense growth of blackberry briers, often ten feet high, and, under ordinary circumstances, impenetrable. The fugitives were. obliged, for many rods, to cut their way through these jungles. with a knife, and then pass into a canebrake of enormous growth, equally laborious and discouraging. Passing these, there would be a stream to cross, which must be swain, again to enter upon the same experience on the other side.
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