Page:Southern Historical Society Papers volume 01.djvu/258

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Southern Historical Society Papers.


manded them. If physiognomy is any index of character, then surely these officers were villainous. But not one of them, in looks or deeds, could compare with their Colonel. I always felt in his presence as if I had suddenly come upon a snake. He used frequently to come into the pen and talk with some of the prisoners. He seemed to take a fiendish pleasure in our sufferings. A prisoner said to him, on one occasion: "Colonel, unless you give us more to eat, we will starve." His reply was: "If I had my way I would feed you on an oiled rag." Once he told us we must bury the refuse bones in the sand to prevent any bad smell from them. One of our number answered: "If you don't give us something more to eat, there will not only be nothing to bury, but there won't be any of us left to bury it." "Ah, well," he replied, "when you commence to stink, I'll put you in the ground too." The bread issued us was spoiled and filled with worms. Someone remonstrated with him about giving men such stuff to eat. His answer was: "You were complaining about not having any fresh meat, so I thought I would supply you." The pen in which we were confined had an area of one square acre. It was nearly midway between batteries Gregg and Wagner, perfectly exposed to the shot and shell fired at the two batteries. The principal firing was from mortars, and was done mostly at night. We lived in tents, and had not the least protection from the fire. This, however, troubled us but little. Our great concern was at the small amount and desperate quality of the food issued. One of our greatest pleasures was in watching the shells at night darting through the air like shooting stars, and in predicting how near to us they would explode. Sometimes they exploded just overhead, and the fragments went whizzing about us. But, strange to say, during our stay there, from September 7th to October 19th, not one of our number was struck, though there was firing every day and night, and sometimes it was very brisk. The negro guard was as much exposed as ourselves. One of them had his leg knocked off by a shell—the only person struck that I heard of. In this place we lived in small A tents—four men to a tent. The heat was intense during the day, but the nights were cool and pleasant—the only drawback to sleep being the constant noise from exploding shell and from the firing of the forts by us. Our camp was laid off in streets, two rows of tents facing each other, making a street. These rows were called A, B, C, D, E, F, G, H. A negro sergeant had charge of each row, calling it "his company." His duties were to call the roll three times per diem, issue rations, and exercise a general superintendence. These sergeants were generally kind to us, expressed their sorrow that we had so little to eat. We had a point in common with them, viz: intense hatred of their Colonel. Their hatred of him was equalled only by their fear of him. His treatment of them, for the least violation of orders, or infraction of discipline, was barbarous. He would ride at them, knock and beat them over the head with his sabre, or draw his pistol and