USA > Indiana > The soldier of Indiana in the war for the union, Vol. II > Part 49
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Frequent excursions continued to be made into Arkansas, Missouri and Mississippi by the troops in West Tennessee, but the enemy was not encountered in force in these regions after the summer of 1864.
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THE SOLDIER OF INDIANA.
CHAPTER XXX.
IN THE PRISON HOSPITAL AND THE PRISON PEN.
"The hopes and fears, the blood, the tears That marked the bitter strife,
Are all now crowned by victory That gave the nation life." -Inscribed in the National Cemetery at Andersonville.
" But vain are words to check the tide Of widowed gricf and orphaned woe."
-Halpine.
The wise man of the East, when, in his melancholy age, he considered all the oppressions that were done under the sun, and beheld the tears of such as were oppressed and how they had no comforter, praised the dead which were already dead more than the living which were yet alive.
Who did not weep for our oppressed in the prisons of the Southern Confederacy, and say with the sorrowful sage, that the dead were more to be praised? The slain who were laid to their last rest on the battlefield, knew not hunger, nor cold, nor weariness, nor any kind of bodily pain. They never learned the pangs of impotent rage, nor gnawing grief, nor cowering fear, nor the mad temptations which beset and tor- ture the prisoner. Yes, they were happier. The solemn pity with which their graves are regarded gives way to shudder- ing horror when the door of the prison is opened.
The short and simple annals of Colonel Poole, of our Ninety-Third, are among the most touching of the prison stories. A single line in the Adjutant General's report re- cords his fate:
" Wounded and captured June 10, '64; died of starvation, at Macon, Ga., March 5, 1865."
Lieutenant Colonel Poole was severely wounded in the
575
THE PATIENT PRISONER.
battle of Guntown, Mississippi, and was captured the next day with Dr. Sackett, who had put him in an ambulance and was trying to get him off the field. He was sent directly to Mobile, whence, in August, he was taken to Cahawba. There his wounds almost healed, and he would have been in a fair way of recovery had not chronic diarrhea, induced by bad food, exhausted his strength. In November he was re- moved to Macon.
He was never able during his imprisonment to sit up a whole day. For many months he did not leave his bed. He suffered great physical pain and weakness, much anxiety about the welfare of his family, unutterable longing to sec his beloved ones again, and all the heart sickness of hope de- ferred and disappointed, without the consolation, in nine long months, of one word from his home; but he bore all with such gentle fortitude and such sweet patience, and at last he consigned his soul so calmly to his Maker, that his fellow prisoners gave him their love, and his Rebel guards could not withhold their respect. During his imprisonment, Colonel Poole eagerly availed himself of all opportunities to write to his wife; but as these were only seven, as he was restricted to a single page, and as he generally had no paper but the fly leaf of some old book, his letters are valuable only for the unconscious picture they afford of a manlv and tender char- acter.
From Mobile, on the fifteenth of July, he wrote:
"I have waited long and earnestly for an opportunity to write to you. This is the first that has offered. My wounds are getting along finely. I think in a few weeks I shall be entirely recovered. If it were not for an abscess on my left ankle, I could walk very well now. My wound is in the left hip. I am also wounded in the right thumb, hence my bad writing. (He says nothing of two other wounds, one in the head, one in the shoulder.) I have suffered more on your account than with all my wounds. I know how much you must have suffered. I have been very kindly treated by the authorities. We expect an exchange soon.
"Remember me, Oh remember me at a throne of grace, that I may be speedily exchanged and restored to my beloved
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THE SOLDIER OF INDIANA.
family. My prayer is ever for you and the children. I do not know how to express my feelings better. You have my whole heart's affection. Give yourself no further uneasiness about me. I am getting along all right, and only wait an exchange to come to you. Remember me, and be assured that you are ever the dearest object to me in this world."
From Cahawba: "I sit down this morning to the pleasant task of writing you the second time since my capture. I have been so sorry that I could not write oftener, for I know how uneasy you must have been; but there has been no op- portunity of sending letters through the lines. My wounds are healing nicely. I am able to walk about the room, and think, in another week, I can walk out in town. I am kindly treated, and have been all the time since my capture. The wound in my left hip is running some, but improving very finely. The one under my right shoulder is entirely healed up, also those in my head and hand, although my thumb is disabled. We are expecting an exchange soon. I never wanted to see you so much in my life. My constant thought and prayer is for your welfare. Remember me. My space is so short that I must shorten what I have to say. This is a pleasant and healthy place, with good water. It is on the Alabama river. Know that you are ever remembered by me, and shall be until my latest breath. Give my love to the children, and kiss the baby for me."
The next letter, dated September 22, is also from Cahawba: "I have had a backset since I last wrote, and have been as bad as ever, but I am now able to sit up, and think I shall get along to a final recovery. I send this by Captain Stan- ton, who is exchanged. I hope for an exchange soon. I am very anxious to get out. I want to see you all so much that I can hardly stand it. Pray for my delivery. My constant prayer is for you all at home. I do not know how you get along if you have not drawn some of my salary. Do not suffer for the necessaries of life. My treatment is good and kind. The weather is getting to be a little cooler, which will be very much in my favor. I am improving very fast, and with favorable weather, in eight or ten days shall be able to go where I please.
577
LONGING FOR HOME.
"Teach Ella to lisp my name. It will be such a satisfac- tion to know that she but even speaks of me. Oh how I should like to be with you all once more. Pray for my de- livery soon."
" CAHAWBA, October 11.
"I improve the opportunity of sending a letter by flag of truce. I am still confined to my bed, but yet I think I am doing very well, all things considered. I have some hopes of being exchanged in a short time. I think a northern at- mosphere will help me. I trust our kind Heavenly Father will restore me to you in this life, but should His will be otherwise, and I be called away, I am ready to go, and feel assured that I will meet you and our children in a better world. I should be glad to write more, but have neither time nor space, and have to employ an amanuensis. May God in his goodness preserve you from all evil! I receive all the care and attention that is possible. My treatment has been very kind since I have been here."
" CAHAWBA, November 5.
"I am getting along well, am much better than I have been since I was wounded, and hope that I will soon be with you all once more, as there are good prospects of an early exchange. I am able to sit up most of the day. I feel very uneasy about you, and my uneasiness increases as the win- ter approaches. I hope you are not in need of money."
" MACON, December 15, 1864.
" This morning there is a chance to pass letters through, and I gladly embrace it. We left Cahawba November 19 for Savannah, where we were to be exchanged. We arrived here on the twenty-third, and were compelled to stop on ae- count of the railroad being torn up by Sherman. I am in proving very fast. I am very uneasy about you. I cannot rest day nor night, for, as the cold weather approaches, I fear you will suffer for the want of money. Oh how I long to see you all! I hope I shall be at home the middle of next month. Do not let the children forget me. Teach little
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THE SOLDIER OF INDIANA.
Ella to lisp my name. There is no chance of your letters getting to me."
The last letter, written January 18, 1865, is as follows: "I learn from Rebel papers that our commissioner went to Richmond some weeks since, with instruction to arrange a cartel for the exchange of prisoners. I hope it will be suc- cessful, for I do want out of this so bad that I can hardly bear the thought of staying another day. Our treatment is kind, though our rations are not good, not such as sick men should have, though I believe the authorities are doing the best they can to make us comfortable. How much I want to see you I cannot say. I am very uneasy for fear you are suffering for money. To think that my family should suffer for the comforts of life, when the Government is owing me, and I cannot help them, is too bad. All the use I ever cx- pect to have for money is to make my family comfortable. Language fails to express my longing desire to be with you at home once more. I think you can appreciate my feeling, to some extent, when I tell you that I have not heard a word directly from you since I left Memphis, and only once indi- rectly. I think of you constantly, and my prayer is always for your comfort and welfare. Teach Ella to lisp my name. Tell the children to remember me, though I know they will. May the Lord bless and protect you all! Do the best you can during my absence. Keep in good spirits, and trust in Providence for my delivery and safe return."
A letter addressed by Colonel Poole from Cahawba, Sep- tember 23, 1864, to Showfield and Foster, Northern men in business in Memphis, somewhat modifies his assurances to his wife of kind treatment. It is as follows:
"I am wounded and a prisoner here. I was very unfor- tunate when I was captured, and lost all my clothes and money by the enemy. I am entirely destitute of anything in the way of clothes. I have eleven months' pay due me from the Goverment. If you, gentlemen, will buy and send me by flag of trucc, a suit of clothes, I will amply repay you on my return to Memphis. I hope to be exchanged very soon. I hope you will take pity on me and send me the
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IN THE PRISON PEN.
needed articles. I am entirely without clothes, have not even a shirt."
The sutlers of the Ninety-Third attended to the request. Captain Bodenhamer, who was also captured at the battle of Guntown, met with an earlier release. He died in prison at Charlestown, December 7, 1864.
Lucien W. Kennedy, a private in the Fourteenth Indiana battery, addresses the following account of his imprisonment to General Terrell, Adjutant General of Indiana:
"I was captured near Guntown, Mississippi, on the elev- enth of June, 1864, the day after the action; was taken by rail from there to Mobile, Alabama; was kept there three days; was then taken by rail and water to 'lovely Anderson- ville,' Georgia, where I was confined until the tenth of Sep- tember, 1864. Our rations while there consisted of a very small amount of wormy meat, and corn meal ground cob and all. Once in a while we received a piece of corn bread about three inches square for a day's rations, but we were often compelled to do without anything for two or three days at a time.
" Men were dying at that time at the rate of one hundred and twenty a day, caused by starvation and exposure. To such straits were we reduced, that no sooner would a man die, than we would scize and carry him to the gate, prepara- tory to taking him to the 'Dead Yard,' that being our only passport outside the lines to get wood. I have seen men lie in the swamp four days after they would die, (after orders were issued preventing us carrying them out.)
" I have seen the guards shoot the prisoners at the ‘Dead Line' when they would not be within three feet of it, they seeming to take great pleasure in getting to shoot one of us. I have also seen them shoot among the crowd just for the fun of the thing, to see how many they could kill and disable at. one shot.
"I was taken from thence on the night of September 10, by rail to Charleston, South Carolina, where we ar- rived the night of the fifteenth. We remained there until the third of October, without any blankets or protection of
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THE SOLDIER OF INDIANA.
any kind. A portion of the time we were exposed to the fire of our own guns in the harbor.
"From thence we were taken to Florence, South Carolina, by rail. I had good rations on that trip, having foraged one of the Rebs' haversacks, containing fifteen hard tack and four pounds of good ham, of which I estimated the value to be about as much as the amount of our Government debt. We remained at Florence until the tenth of December.
" While there, three boys of the Twentieth Illinois infantry and myself furnished ourselves with a fine basement apart- ment, and so long as the weather would permit, lived very comfortably. Said weather consisted mostly of rain and sleet.
"On the above date we were paroled, arriving at Charles- ton on the morning of the eleventh, and were transferred to the transport New York, where we received new clothing, rations and medical attendance; thence to the transport United States, which took us to Annapolis, Maryland.
"During the voyage I was taken with fever, consequent upon my long exposure. I arrived at home on the twenty- ninth of January, 1865, the ghost of my former self.
" Captain Wirz and Lieutenant Davis commanded at An- dersonville while I was there. I have forgotten the name of the officer commanding at Florence, suffice it to say that he was a very red-headed lieutenant, and took special delight in running in among the prisoners and knocking them right and left with a club.
"In conclusion, I will say that I have failed to do the sub- ject justice."
Kennedy was eighteen years old at the time of his capture. He lives now in Wabash, Indiana.
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581
CHARACTER OF THE THIRTEENTH.
CHAPTER XXXI.
THE THIRTEENTH INFANTRY.
Away down in old Virginia, in the region of the Great Dismal Swamp, and the numerous little Dismals, as the smaller swamps are locally called, the Thirteenth spent more than nine months of the hardy career begun among the stormy mountains of West Virginia. When M'Clellan was recalled from the banks of the James, in the summer of 1862, Ferry's brigade was transferred by way of Fortress Monroe to the little village of Suffolk, which lies at the head of the Nanse- mond, twelve miles from its confluence with the James, and is an important railroad junetion covering the landward ap- proaches to Norfolk, and commanding all of North Carolina east of the Chowan. In that delightful climate, where, in the middle of December, the mercury frequently stands at seventy degrees in the shade, and honey-bees are Inred from their hives by the soft sunshine, the troops enjoyed al- most perfect health, and in the whole force, which at one time amounted to fourteen thousand, the Thirteenth was the hardiest and healthiest regiment. In four months, from Au- gust to November, the sickly season of the year, but one death from sickness occurred. The regiment numbered nearly six hundred, of whom all but about fifty recruits were original volunteers.
Formed of heterogeneous material, Irish, German and Scotch, beside the preponderating Hoosier element and separated during the most of its course from other Indiana troops, the Thirteenth possessed and maintained as much individuality as is possible to a military organization. Its courage was undoubted, its powers of endurance unfail- ing, and its loyalty spotless, but there was a fearful degree of what are called soldiers' vices in both rank and file.
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THE SOLDIER OF INDIANA.
On the whole, it was a "hard" regiment in the sense of the soldier's use of the word. Yet of course many men and officers were not only exempt from vice, but possessed every excellence.
"An original character in our regiment," writes a member of the Thirteenth, "was William Sutton, Sut, as he was commonly termed, of company B. He was from the neigh- borhood of Peru, and was very tall and lanky, about six feet three, I should judge. He had probably never seen the in- side of a school house or a spelling book in his life. As the term is generally used, he had not the slightest approach to an education, and yet for all the practical purposes of sol- diering he was not to be surpassed. No man could enliven a camp fire, find where, on a foraging trip, the most of the necessaries of life were to be obtained, or handle a rifle on the skirmish line with more success and less exposure to the mischances of war, than 'Old Sut.' His propensity for 'gobbling' prisoners and striking for the rear with them, was notorious. And the facility with which he dispossessed those unfortunates of stray pieces of tobacco, or other arti- cles necessary to the soldier's happiness, was always an oc- casion of wonder and admiration to others not gifted with the requisite amount of 'check.' His inimitable, 'You don't happen to have any spare tobacco about your breeches pocket, do you?' drawled out as slowly and patronizingly as if he were conferring the greatest favor in the world on 'Jonny,' never failed to elicit a bountiful supply from the poor wretch, trembling in his boots and begging to be hur- ried to the rear, lest some stray ball humming round from the hostile barrels of his friends' guns might leave on him a mark no more honorable than pleasant.
" When fighting was over, no man could spin longer or more improbable stories about the day's proceedings, or dive deeper into the mysteries of the commander's plans, than our friend. And see him on the march, his gun strapped on his shoulder, striding along as if it were but a pleasant re- creation, and not a toilsome and disagreeable day's work, as it was to most of us, joking with and at everything that made its appearance on the roadside, man, woman or child,
583
LIFE ON THE NANSEMOND.
white, yellow or black; and after the day's work is over, when the most of us are content to lie before the fire, and rest our wearied limbs, gathering our sable cooks, and with the aid of some quondam barn door and some friendly knee, making them show us the steps of the "Juba" till long after dark, and till the bugle notes give warning that quiet is de- sirable even in a bivouac. Such was one of the represent- ative men of the Thirteenth, a man who could fight well for his country, and yet claimed his right to grumble at the Ad- ministration and 'the conduct of the war;' one who never shirked a hard day's encounter, never spoiled for a fight, and who, after four years and a half of hard service, returned whence he came, his knowledge of men and things enlarged by personal experience, his faith in and love for his country increased by the trials he had endured for her sake."
Life on the Nansemond possessed the monotony of an isolated military post in a hostile region. Reconnoitring parties, generally composed of artillery, cavalry and infantry, started out one night, fought the enemy the next night, and returned to camp the second day. Usually two or three men were lost on each expedition. Many of the roads were sandy, therefore dry, and also tiresome.
General Peck had command of the post. Colonel R. S. Foster was assigned to the command of a brigade in Sep- tember, although he did not receive promotion until the next June. Lieutenant Colonel Dobbs had command of the regiment.
The night of October 2, three regiments of infantry, a bat- tery of artillery and a regiment of cavalry, under the com- mand of Colonel Spear, set out from Suffolk, on a march of twenty-five or thirty miles to Blackwater, a deep and narrow river which served as a sort of land mark. The Confederate foot which trespassed on the region east of it, was soon chased back, and a show of force on its western bank was sure to invite a demonstration from General Peck. Toward noon of the third, Colonel Spear came in sight of the Rebels on the opposite bank. Companies D and F of the Thir- teenth, deployed as skirmishers, and advancing cautiously, almost reached the river, and several guns obtained a posi-
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THE SOLDIER OF INDIANA.
tion before they were discovered. The Rebels saluted with grape and canister. The Union artillery returned the salute. A three hours, engagement followed, during which the skirm- ishers, while they held their ground, kept themselves so well under cover that they lost but one man killed and two wounded. Colonel Spear complimented their coolness and courage.
On an expedition in the middle of November, the Thir- teenth had seven men captured.
At noon of December 11, portions of Foster's and Ferry's brigades started to Blackwater, on the South Quarry road, taking with them a pontoon train of old canal boats from the Dismal Swamp canal. A part of the road lay through a muddy cypress swamp, and all of it was exceedingly narrow, with deep ditches on each side; in consequence the wagons were slow, and it was impossible for the cavalry and infantry to pass them. To cross the river, companies B, F, I and D, of the Thirteenth, mounted behind horsemen. But they were forced to dismount at the water's edge by a volley of musketry from rifle-pits and a block-house. They ran behind trees, and fired in return whenever a head rose above the defences, which were but thirty yards distant. Unable to fire, the Rebels opened a conversation. "Come over and take breakfast with us!" " You'd better breakfast with us. We have coffee!" "Come over and get salt!" As the talk went on, the Rebel heads gradually rose above the intrench- ments, and the firing on both sides recommenced. It was kept up actively by B and D, while F and I, under the guidance of Captain Zent, slipped out of the woods, and . crossed the river below in boats. The Rebels in the block- house discovered their appproach and ran, but a Captain and twelve men were captured. A force which went up the river at the same time, drove back a flanking Rebel party.
The Union loss was fourteen killed and wounded. Garri- son M'Farland, one of the best men in the Thirteenth, was killed.
Reports of a bloody Union repulse reached Suffolk, and Ferry's force was received with subdued sneers by the men of the town, while the women expressed their joy without
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ENGAGEMENT AT THE DESERTED HOUSE.
restraint. "I prayed to God all last night," said one, "that you might never live to cross the Blackwater, and my prayers were answered, for you have been driven back."
The last of December Ferry's brigade received orders to prepare to go to North Carolina. Two regiments immedi- ately started to Norfolk. January 4, the Thirteenth was transferred to Foster's brigade, and the Thirty-Ninth Illinois was ordered to depart the next day. The Thirty-Ninth and Thirteenth were first thrown together in the cold January of 1862, when Jackson drove before him the Union troops in the mouth of the Shenandoah valley. A friendship followed, which was cemented into a brotherly attachment by mutual dangers and hardships. The approaching separation was not a little painful. The Thirteenth went to the camp of the Thirty-Ninth, and gave it three cheers. The cheers were re- turned, and the Illinois Colonel made a speech. The Thir- teenth then returned to its own camp. It was shortly after followed by the Thirty-Ninth. Several good speeches were made by the Indiana officers, then there was a general hand- shaking and farewell. The next morning the Thirteenth marched to Ferry's quarters, and saluted him. He seemed to be touched by the testimonies of affection which had been given. He named over all the hard marches and skirmishes in which the Thirteenth had been engaged under him, and declared that the Indiana regiment was the pride of his brig- ade, and the pride of every division it had been in. "Officers and boys of the Thirteenth, good-bye," was his conclusion. The three cheers which followed were a heart-felt mingling of thanks, and pride, and sorrow. The regiment escorted him through town to the railroad.
The most serious engagement of the winter occurred on the thirtieth of January, between a large force, under Pryor, advanced to the Deserted House, or Kelly's store, eight miles from Suffolk, and an equal number, under Corcoran. Cor- coran started before midnight of the twenty-ninth, and drove in the Rebel pickets shortly after three, pursued them to the camp, and opened on it an artillery fire. Prior was surprised, but not thrown into confusion, and promptly returned the fire. After three hours of lively cannonading, infantry ad-
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THE SOLDIER OF INDIANA.
vanced, the Thirteenth on the right, to charge the enemy's line. The Rebels retreated, and a running fight continued until four in the afternoon. Six miles from the battle field, as three companies of the Thirteenth, deployed in the woods on both sides of the road, were moving on, a volley was fired at them from an ambuscade beyond the swamp. Sheltered by trees, they returned the fire. The residue of the regiment came up rapidly, shouting, "Go in, Hoosiers!" and with the skirmishers charged and drove the Rebels from their ambashı. The force was then collected, the Thirteenth was thanked and praised by Corcoran, ten wounded men from its ranks, and one of its officers, Lieutenant Newsom, were placed in ambulances, and the return march was commenced.
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