USA > New York > Schoharie County > Military records of Schoharie County veterans of four wars > Part 30
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4th. Quite pleasant to-day, turned out to be counted, one thou- sand sent away, whereabouts not known; 300 more sent away in the night, in all 1300 for Salisbury, N. C.
5th. A pleasant day on the Island. Out again to be counted,- but little excitement this day. Five squads more, 500 sent off the Island this afternoon.
7th. Out to be counted in the forenoon, came back to camp, took dinner, shortly after drew our supper and three-fourths of a loaf of bread, then left the Island. Took the cars at half-past. 10 o'clock for Danville. Remained in the cars all that night.
Sth. Arrived at Danville late in the forenoon. The weather cold and chilly. Again took the cars for our place of destination. Was detained on the way. Remained on the cars all night.
9th. Arrived at Greensborongh late at night. Left the cars, marched out a little from town to some woods, and had three
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crackers given ont to us. The night very cold, a heavy frost had fallen.
Oct. 10th. Arrived at Salisbury at 8 o'clock. The night was very cold and chilly. Did not get food of any kind, things look dismal for us.
11th. Passed up into Salisbury in the afternoon, no grub for us yet. The pains of hunger begin to gnaw us to a fearful extent. Late at night onr bread came to ns, one-half loaf to a man.
12th. We got our allowance of bread and meat at noon or after, this day finds us in a dull state of feeling.
13th. Morning finds the weather some cooler. To day we got our allowance of bread and rice soup, some of our division drew hard tack.
14th. Still a prisoner at Salisbury, N. C. The day quite pleasant. We got our usual allowance of bread and rice soup. Nothing going on of any interest in camp.
15th. Finds us the same. Weather fair although cool at night. To-day our food is bread and molasses, which goes very well for a change.
16th. This Sabbath day finds ns still prisoners of war. Our food to-day is rice soup and molasses. One of the officers shot by the guard, twelve more said to have died since the night previous.
17th. A fair day for us in camp. We drew our rations first in the morning, rice soup and molasses, no meal issued to any of us.
18th. Every thing the same. Morning finds us all waiting for something to eat, but we do not get any thing till dark, then get warm bread.
19th. Finds camp full of rumors. About 500 more prisoners brought from Danville. We got our grub sometime in the afternoon, rice " tay " and molasses. Our officers taken away from here.
20th. Morning finds us alive and well. We get our ration of bread and a ration of meat.
21st. Finds this division waiting for our rations, but do not know when they will be given to us.
22d. Finds all in their nsual state of feelings. Nothing of any note to-day, the weather fair and chilly.
23d. A quiet day in camp. Weather mild and pleasant, though cold at night.
24th. Finds us in camp waiting for our grub. No bread, no flour. Molasses comes when the train arrives. One-third of the division drew flour. Thaddeus Laymen of this company died between the hours of 2 and 12 o'clock, of chronic diarrhea.
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Oct. 25th. Finds us yet prisoners. Do not get our food quite as regular as before, though have to be content with what we get.
26th. Finds me alive and well. We get our allowance of food for the day. A great many dead taken out for burial.
27th. Morning weather hazy. About noon began to rain, which continues during the night. Some more prisoners brought here, the most part taken in the valley. This division draws flour, no bread baked for us.
28th. Morning finds the weather clear. Nineteen said to have died the night previous. We got our meat this forenoon, got some rice soup in the afternoon, but no bread, no flour.
29th. Finds us yet alive ; we get our meat in the forenoon. After- noon some rice soup but as yet no bread or flour. Weather fair and pleasant. Just at night a small ration of rice soup.
30th. A beautiful day. Every thing quiet in camp. This division draws flour and rice soup.
31st. Finds us yet prisoners. Weather fair, nothing of importance in camp. We get our allowance of bread and rice soup. George Wright goes to the hospital.
Nov. 1st. November comes in warm and pleasant. The camp full of rumors about being paroled. To-day we got bread and rice soup, some got hard tack.
2d. Morning dawns, when it begins to rain. Continues to rain all day long. We drew our flour just at night. Adolphus Brandon died in hospital prison.
Nov. 3d. Finds the weather very cool with a drizzling rain, which continues through the day. A good many dead in camp. We draw oats, wheat bran, and rice soup.
4th. Finds us yet in camp. Do not feel very well to-day. Weather cool and uncomfortable.
5th. Finds us in camp yet. The camp full of rumors. We get our rice soup and draw flour. Some frost.
6th. Another beautiful Sabbath day in camp; the sun shines most beautiful. We get rice soup in the forenoon, some meal in the afternoon. Six hundred prisoners came in last night.
7th. Still in camp, weather fine. No grub yet of any kind. Some thin soup, no bread of any kind to-day.
Sth. A warm and lovely day in camp, for election. Some excite- ment as to who will be president.
9th. Finds us in camp yet, alive and well. We get rice soup and warm bread, corn and wheat. Rain the most part of the night.
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Nov. 10th. A beautiful day, warm and pleasant. We get our soup.
11th. Finds us yet in camp, doing the best we can to live through this prison life. We get our grub - bread, soup and meat.
12th. Yet a prisoner in Salisbury. Get our bread quite regularly now. To-day we got bread, meat and rice soup. Thus ends the day.
13th. A still, quiet day in camp. Weather fair. We got our rations of bread, meat, and rice soup. The boys in good spirits but anxious to get back to the Federal lines.
14th. Yet alive and well. Fair weather. Get our bread and meat early in the day. The camp is full of rumors. Get our rice soup.
15th. Finds us still in camp. The weather is fair. Draw corn bread and soup early in the morning ; get nothing more for the day. The camp full of rumors about exchange. Still I don't see it.
16th. Morning still finds me alive and well. The weather has some appearance of rain. We draw our rice soup, no meat to-day. The bread comes after a while, hot from the oven.
17th. Finds all in camp as usual. Weather fair and nice. We got our bread and rice soup, no meat.
18th. Finds me yet in good health. To-day we got our bread, soup, and meat, - liver, lights, eyes, etc. Weather fair.
24th. Yet in eamp, well. Weather cool and stormy. Get our food as usual, quarter rations.
25th. Yet a prisoner at Salisbury. No signs of any relief from our government. Just at night an attempt was made to break out of camp, but did not accomplish much. Some killed and wounded. All on quarter rations. Ralph Bear died in hospital - diarrhea. Belonged to Company B, Fourth New York Heavy Artillery.
26th. Finds all in camp alive and well. Weather fair and pleas- ant. Get our rations of bread.
27th. Quite a fine day. It finds me in the hospital with the diarrhea. Some better to-day.
29th. The same old thing. Diarrhea quite bad to-day. We get our rations of bread, meat, and rice soup.
30th. Yet in the hospital. The big chimney fell down about noon, killing one man and bruising two more very bad.
Dec. 1st. A pleasant day for the first of December. The sun shines bright and nice. Not much of any thing going on in camp.
NOTE .- Thus closes a very conservative diary. The last entry apparently written with as much courage as the first, yet the writer was lying in the Rebel
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hospital, and from December 1, 1864, until a lingering death terminated his life, nearly two months later, he was unable to continue his memoranda. Inscription on fly leaf of diary: - James 1. Bailey, of Gilboa, Schoharie county, N. Y., died at Salisbury Prison, January 25, 1865.
LIEUTENANT MARTIN WITBECK.
No. 4 PROSPECT HILL ST., GRENOCK, SCOTLAND. S
COMRADE GEORGE H. WARNER - I received your letter of Sep- tember 4th, desiring any information I could give in connection with the death of Lientenent Martin Witbeck. It is not much that I can tell, but it is given heartily to the project you have in view. First, he was enrolled in Company I, Fifty-first New York Volunteers; his age on enlistment was 19 years. Occupation, farmer. Enlisted October 5, 1861, at Richmondville, N. Y., by D. K. Johnson, for three years, and re-enlisted December 1, 1863, for another three years or during the war. He was promoted to corporal, October 21, 1861, to sergeant, September 30, 1862, and to first sergeant, March 19, 1863. The date of his promotion to second lieutenant I cannot give, but think it would be September 1, 1864. I was associated with him in the company for about two years and a half. He was of a retiring disposition, but kindness itself. Never quarreling, to my knowledge, with any of his eomrades ; in fact he would rarely con- tinne an argument with any one if he saw they were inclined to lose their temper. He never shirked, however disagreeable, any duty he was called upon to perform, and in a word, I might say he was generally beloved by the members of Company I. On the 30th of September, 1864, away to the left of our lines in front of Petersburg, we had an engagement with the enemy, when most of our regiment were either killed, wounded or captured, Martin being among the number of prisoners. We were sent to Libby prison at Richmond, and when there, had to turn over any valnables in our possession, with the promise of their being restored when we were liberated. That promise may have been kept in some cases, but I believe the majority was otherwise. If you did not hand over you were searched, and every thing found on you was confiscated. We were kept in Libby three or four days, and then sent to Salisbury, N. C., where we tasted the miseries of a Rebel prison. When captured we had to give up our great coats, and we little thought what that meant, but it was nakedness and coldness coupled with starvation. When in Salisbury we hatched a plot to have a try for freedom, but on the
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day when the attempt was to have been made, the plot became known, the guards were alarmed and donbled, and the officers sepa- rated from the men, and got the route to Danville, Va., where we arrived in due course, but the change was for the better. We were housed in a large three-story building. It looked as if it had been used as a tobacco warehouse. We occupied the second and third floors, sentries being placed on the ground plat. So there we re- mained for many weary weeks, never getting out for exercise, except sometimes getting on the detail which went to the river for water, under a strong guard. I suppose you are acquainted with the rations served out to the prisoners. It was, as near as I could estimate, about three-fourths of a pound of corn bread per diem and a slop which they called soup, sometimes twice a week. The bread could easily be eaten for breakfast, then followed gnawing hunger until another day. The effects of this diet continuously caused dysentery among many. Among the number, our comrade, Martin Witbeck, was so attacked and became weaker every day. He was very patient, and com- plained very little, and we hoped an exchange of prisoners might come before it would be too late to save him, but it was not to be. He had a small Bible or Testament with him which he was always reading and from which he seemed to derive every consolation. At lengthi he got so poorly that we urged on the Rebel doctor that he was in such condition of health that he should grant him the priv- ilege of entering the hospital, where he might be better attended to and have a chance of more comforts than was in our power to supply. He granted the request at last, but too late to save his life. I rather think their policy was to do to death as many Union soldiers as they could withont being exactly accused of willful murder. I received permission to visit him in hospital the day before he died. He was cheerful and willing that God should take away the life He gave, but had a great longing that he might be spared to have seen home and friends once more. I know his friends at home sent a box to him while in prison. It contained clothing and provisions. It got as far as Richmond and no farther. If these had reached him they might have been the means of saving his life, and a gain to the Union cause, in the prolonged service of a faithful soldier. I re- member Martin telling of his brother losing a leg at Gettysburg, and something reminds me that I saw him at his home where I visited in the winter of 1863 and '64, when our regiment was on leave after re-enlisting. Having no relatives in America, I thought I could not do better than visit some of the places where most of our com-
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pany had been reernited from, notably Schenevus and that locality. I was in America in 1882, the only time since the conclusion of the war, but had no time to visit in your locality. I am hoping that things may so turn out, that I shall have soon the pleasure.
With greetings to all comrades,
I remain yours very truly, WILLIAM CALDWELL.
HIRAM KNISKERN.
On the night previous to the battle of Reams Station, I was sent out on the pieket, line in advance of our breastworks, and occupied one of the rifle pits until we were driven out by a heavy force of the enemy the next day. On the way to our lines one of our comrades was severely wounded and I stopped and assisted in carrying him to the rear of our lines, where he could be eared for by the surgeon. While resting I heard heavy firing along our lines but saw no signs of our troops giving away. After being rested I secured another gun to replace the one I had been obliged to abandon in helping the wounded comrade, and started in the direction of our line; I soon met a man wearing a mixed Rebel and Union uniform; we passed each other without speaking, but after two or three rods distance we both turned and looked at each other, neither speaking. Soon three more Rebels approached from the same direction, and one of them hailed the man who had passed me with, why don't you make that man throw down his gun." He then said, " throw down your gun." Seeing I was in for it, I seized my gun by the muzzle and flung it far to one side into a low swampy place, and followed the Johnnie, who said, " Ill take care of you." On reaching the place where our troops had been stationed, I found they had been driven out and many of them captured, among the number my captain. About five o'clock we were taken farther to the rear of the Rebel line and counted, the number given as 500. We were taken a round-about march of 14 miles to reach Petersburg 7 miles away, and from there sent to Richmond, and confined in an old tobacco warehouse. While a prisoner I had two meals a day, the first consisted of a two-inch cubical block of corn bread, and a 2 by 3 inch slice of bacon. The bacon was often densely populated, and would have made a census enumerator tired. The second meal consisted of the same quantity of corn bread as in the morning, and bean soup instead of bacon. The soup was dipped from a large bucket, and as most of the beans rested peacefully at the bottom those first served got no beans but some flies.
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Those served last got more beans and bugs. In cating this ration we could make a lively crackling between our teeth, any thing to fill an aching void. The beans were red and about the size of our small beans at home. The floor of our prison was cleaned twice a week. After I was transferred to Belle Isle, I found my quarters less com- fortable, and every thing much worse. In warm days the sand could be seen to move, and the lice could be seen on the fence as thick as their little consins are sometimes seen on hops. After being on Belle Isle 15 days, our squad received rations, with orders to be ready for Andersonville, but we were taken to Libby over night and the next day paroled for Annapolis.
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.
I was taken prisoner late in the night of June 3, 1864, with a lieuten- ant of Company B of my regiment, and taken to Richmond, where I was placed in a hospital to be treated for a wound in my shoulder. I was sent to Libby prison June 20th, and before my wound was healed. Sent to Belle Isle Aug. 21st, and to Salisbury, N. C., Oct. 7th, and remained until February 22d, 1865, when I lett Salisbury for the Union lines, signed a parole at Goldsborough, and reached the Union lines two days later. During my imprisonment I came very near dying, having contracted scurvy, diarrhea, varicose veins, rheumatism, congestion of the lungs, and being nearly reduced to a skeleton. During my imprisonment I could have had donble ra- tions for going ont and working for the Rebs, but I preferred to starve. I have gnawed bones after others have made soup from them, and eaten a ration that a Dutchman would refuse, a bull's eye. They , gave us rations of raw tripe, right from the critter. I stuck a stick into mine, to roast it, and it was the sweetest morsel I ever tasted. They gave us the snouts of cattle for rations. I ate things which a hungry dog would not touch, but I'm sick of writing about it.
LEVI GUERNSEY.
After the battle of Gettysburg, the brigade to which I belonged moved back into Virginia, and went into camp between Bristoe and Catlett's Stations. One morning soon after, I was ordered by my lientenant, to take my ambulance to Bristoe Station for some needed repairs, and with Sergeant Jacob Dieter for com- pany I set ont. On reaching the point where I usually crossed the railroad in going to the station, the sergeant insisted that I should not cross, but take a road which ran parallel to the
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railroad, and go to the station by a new route. After some ar- guments we took the new route and continued our journey until we passed into a wooded field, and had gone but a short distance farther, when we discovered two horses and the legs of men who were par- tially hidden in some bushes by the roadside. As we came to a point opposite the horses, three Johnnies on horseback dashed out of the woods and ordered us to " halt " and " surrender." Sergeant Dieter laughed and said, " Ha, Ha, Levi, the Johnnies have got us, haven't they ? I thought they had and that I could give the sergeant the credit of it. As I did not obey the orders to leave the road and drive into the woods immediately, the boss Rebel presented his re- volver at my head and said, " yon-Yankee -- aint you going to turn in and surrender ?" I then wheeled iny team into a by-road which was exceedingly rough. "Trot them horses or I'll blow you through." I managed to make my team trot for a few rods until we came to a place where three more guerillas joined us. Some of our captors were Mosby's men and the rest were native bush whackers, ten or twelve in all. After joining the last party, my horses were unharnessed and saddles put on them. Our overcoats and blankets were taken from us, my watch and all valuables were taken from me, and we were put under guard. In a short time more prisoners were brought in, my lieutenant who had sent me to Bristoe, a ser- geant and a sutler. My lieutenant looked very much ashamed. Soon after, another sutler with a four-horse team and a negro were brought in, and a little later a dispatch-bearer was added to the number of prisoners. Then we were started for Orange C. H., and after reaching that place we were put on board a train for Richmond, Va. Ou arriving at Richmond we were confined in Libby for about thirty-six hours, and then turned out on Belle Isle. Here I met two of my old neighbors, Wallace Earls and Asher Bice. I asked them what made them look so. They said, " by the time you've been here as long as we have you'll look so too." I remained on Belle Isle five months, including one month which I spent in the so-called hos- pital. The hospital was an old tobacco warehouse. No fire was made for us, even while the weather was sufficiently cold to make heavy ice in the James river. The windows were raised from the bottom and lowered from the top. We had no clothing and but two sheets for covering. When the weather moderated, fires were built to make it as uncomfortable from heat as it had been from cold. I guess the Reb- els tried to kill us with thermometers. While I was in the hospital, several were brought in from the Island with hands and feet so badly
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frozen that they were sawn off. Six men died on the bunk next to mine while I was there.
I was treated for diarrhea and rhenmatism, but when they thought I wouldn't die they sent me back to the Island. The rations at the hospital were a trifle better than on the Island, but very scant and just enough to aggravate. About the 25th of February, 1864, there came great rumors of exchange for certain squads. I thought I would " flank out " and succeed in getting into squad two. The crowd was very great and flankers crowded so that the guard could not keep them back. The officer in command of the guard showed how to keep the prisoners back by taking a gun and stabbing one through the leg with the bayonet. Eight squads were taken out and confined in Castle Thunder over night. In the morning, instead of going to City Point for exchange as we expected, we were sent in a sontherly direction, passing through Petersburg, Charlotte, N. C., and reaching the " Pen " at Andersonville, March 1st, 1864. Our journey consumed seven days, and as we were packed in the com- mon box freight car as tightly as we could sit, our bodies became worn through, raw and bleeding, and our sufferings were painful beyond description. We were the first to enter Andersonville prison which, at that time, embraced about eighteen acres of ground, sur- rounded by a stockade thirteen feet high. Within, the ground was covered mostly by trec-tops, the bodies of which had been used in forming the stockade. These were used for fuel and soon disappeared. We were driven into the pen as hogs or sheep are driven. Every few days, additions were made to our number from other prisons and from captures made in the field, until our number was estimated at 30,000. We were guarded by a regiment of Rebel soldiers under Capt. Wirtz. A pole or rail three feet from the ground, and at a distance of 2 rods from the stockade encircled our camp and was called the "dead line." Orders were issued to the guards to shoot those who put their hands on the dead line or attempted to cross it. I saw a man, who wished to die, put his hand on the dead line and dare the guard to shoot him. He was shot immediately. A swampy portion of ground ran through our prison from side to side, and through this ran a small stream of water which was our only supply, after being used for bathing pur- poses by the guards outside the stockade. It was subject to poison from the drainage of the prison ground on each side as it flowed through and became a poison for drink. By persistent digging better water was sometimes obtained afterward. Our ration usually
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consisted of a two-inch cube of corn bread, and occasionally bean soup, water colored with beans, and bugs floating on top. If I got 4 or 5 beans in my ration I thought I did well.
" Roll call" was made every morning, and if Wirtz felt ugly, as he commonly did, rations were stopped for days at a time. If any were missing, the bugle was sounded, and the bloodhounds were put on track, and in most cases, the men were captured and brought back. Some were punished with " ball and chain," some by the " stocks," others were tied up by the thumbs, while others were " bucked and gagged." Wirtz advised us to try to escape, said it was our duty to try, and his duty to capture us if he could. During a part of the time we drew " corn and cob" meal instead of bread. This meal we sifted through an old tin plate with holes punched through it. Our condition became such that many were brutish, many maniacs, and others idiots. We were reduced to skeletons, and afflicted with rhenmatism, dropsy, scurvy and dysentery. Those who had money could trade with the Rebel gnards and improve their condition a little. The "bummers " among us would steal or kill to get the money and valuables which the new arrivals might succeed in bring- ing into prison. Murders became so frequent that the guilty ones were found out, tried by jury composed of their fellow-prisoners, convicted and hung. Wirtz furnished the facilities for holding the trial, the material to build the scaffold, and a gnard to hold the murderers un- til the scaffold was ready. Six men were hung, five at the first drop, one having broken his rope was caught up and hanged over again. I think it would have pleased Wirtz if we had all hung each other. After the execution our camp was quiet and we did not hear the cry, " stop that thief," "stop that murderer," any more. At one time Wirtz became very angry because some of the men could not get in line for roll-call lively enough to suit him, and kicked and struck several who were crippled and helpless. He then ordered the rations stopped for three days- the rations for the day had been cooked, and, after being kept until the third day, were brought into the prison and dealt out to the men in a putrid, maggoty state. One man ejected his ration, and another stepped up and appropriated it. While at Andersonville I was in the hospital outside the stockade for abont three weeks, and fared some better on a little rice and beef soup. My pants became rags, and could not cover my body, so I went to the dead-house one morning and traded pants with a dead man, getting a better pair, which I washed and hung up to dry. In spite of my watching they were stolen, so I made another robbery of
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