Chapter XV

The pathetic letter, which was composed by the suffering and dying men at Andersonville, and addressed to the President in August, 1864, and forwarded by the prisoners who were sent to Charleston, led to renewed efforts on the part of the United States government; but no notice was taken by the rebel authorities of the plea in behalf of humanity. The following letter is said to be the one sent to the President:--

_The Memorial of the Union Prisoners confined at Andersonville,
Georgia, to the President of the United States._

CONFEDERATE STATES PRISON,
CHARLESTON, S. C., Aug., 1864.

TO THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES:

The condition of the enlisted men belonging to the Union armies, now
prisoners to the Confederate rebel forces, is such that it becomes our
duty, and the duty of every commissioned officer, to make known the
facts in the case to the government of the United States, and to use
every honorable effort to secure a general exchange of prisoners,
thereby relieving thousands of our comrades from the horror now
surrounding them.

For some time past there has been a concentration of prisoners from
all parts of the rebel territory to the State of Georgia--the
commissioned officers being confined at Macon, and the enlisted men at
Andersonville.

Recent movements of the Union armies under General Sherman have
compelled the removal of prisoners to other points, and it is now
understood that they will be removed to Savannah, Georgia, and
Columbus and Charleston, South Carolina. But no change of this kind
holds out any prospect of relief to our poor men. Indeed, as the
localities selected are far more unhealthy, there must be an increase
rather than a diminution of suffering.

Colonel Hill, provost-marshal general Confederate States army, at
Atlanta, stated to one of the undersigned that there were thirty-five
thousand prisoners at Andersonville, and by all accounts from the
United States soldiers who have been confined there, the number is not
overstated by him. These thirty-five thousand are confined in a field
of some thirty acres, enclosed by a board fence, heavily guarded.
About one third have various kinds of indifferent shelter, but upwards
of thirty thousand are wholly without shelter, or even shade of any
kind, and are exposed to the storms and rains which are of almost
daily occurrence, the cold dews of the night, and the more terrible
effects of the sun striking with almost tropical fierceness upon their
unprotected heads. This mass of men jostle and crowd each other up and
down the limits of their enclosure in storms or sun, and others lie
down upon the pitiless earth at night with no other covering than the
clothing upon their backs, few of them having even a blanket.

Upon entering the prison every man is deliberately stripped of money
and other property, and as no clothing or blankets are ever supplied
to their prisoners by the rebel authorities, the condition of the
apparel of the soldiers, just from an active campaign, can be easily
imagined. Thousands are without pants or coats, and hundreds without
even a pair of drawers to cover their nakedness.

To these men, as indeed to all prisoners, there are issued three
quarters of a pound of bread or meal, and one eighth of a pound of
meat, per day. This is the entire ration, and upon it the prisoner
must live or die. The meal is often unsifted and sour, and the meat
such as in the North is consigned to the soap-maker. Such are the
rations upon which Union soldiers are fed by the rebel authorities,
and by which they are barely holding on to life. But to starvation,
and exposure to sun and storm, add the sickness which prevails to a
most alarming and terrible extent. On an average, one hundred die
daily. It is impossible that any Union soldiers should know all the
facts pertaining to this terrible mortality, as they are not paraded
by the rebel authorities. Such statement as the following, made by
---- ----, speaks eloquent testimony. Said he, "Of twelve of us who
were captured, six died, four are in the hospital, and I never expect
to see them again. There are but two of us left."

In 1862, at Montgomery, Alabama, under far more favorable
circumstances, the prisoners being protected by sheds, from one
hundred and fifty to two hundred were sick from diarrhoea and chills
out of seven hundred. The same percentage would give seven thousand
sick at Andersonville.

It needs no comment, no efforts at word-painting, to make such a
picture stand out boldly in most horrible colors.

Nor is this all. Among the ill-fated of the many who have suffered
amputation in consequence of injuries received before capture, sent
from rebel hospitals before their wounds were healed, there are
eloquent witnesses of the barbarities of which they are victims. If to
these facts is added this, that nothing more demoralizes soldiers and
develops the evil passions of man than starvation, the terrible
condition of Union prisoners at Andersonville can be readily imagined.
They are fast losing hope and becoming utterly reckless of life.

Numbers, crazed by their sufferings, wander about in a state of
idiocy; others deliberately cross the "dead line," and are
remorselessly shot down.

In behalf of these men we most earnestly appeal to the President of
the United States. Few of them have been captured, except in the front
of battle, in the deadly encounter, and only when overpowered by
numbers. They constitute as gallant a portion of our armies as carry
our banners anywhere. If released, they would soon return to again do
vigorous battle for our cause. We are told that the only obstacle in
the way of exchange is the status of enlisted negroes captured from
our armies, the United States claiming that the cartel covers all who
serve under its flag, and the Confederate States refusing to consider
the colored soldiers, heretofore slaves, as prisoners of war.

We beg leave to suggest some facts bearing upon the question of
exchange, which we would urge upon this consideration. Is it not
consistent with the national honor, without waiving the claim that the
negro soldiers shall be treated as prisoners of war, to effect an
exchange of the white soldiers? The two classes are treated
differently by the enemy. The whites are confined in such prisons as
Libby and Andersonville, starved and treated with a barbarism unknown
to civilized nations. The blacks, on the contrary, are seldom
imprisoned. They are distributed among the citizens, or employed on
government works. Under these circumstances they receive enough to
eat, and are worked no harder than they have been accustomed to be.
They are neither starved nor killed off by the pestilence in the
dungeons of Richmond and Charleston. It is true they are again made
slaves; but their slavery is freedom and happiness compared with the
cruel existence imposed upon our gallant men. They are not bereft of
hope, as are the white soldiers, dying by piecemeal. Their chances of
escape are tenfold greater than those of the white soldiers, and their
condition, in all its lights, is tolerable in comparison with that of
the prisoners of war now languishing in the dens and pens of
secession.

While, therefore, believing the claims of our government, in matters
of exchange, to be just, we are profoundly impressed with the
conviction that the circumstances of the two classes of soldiers are
so widely different that the government can honorably consent to an
exchange, waiving for a time the established principle justly claimed
to be applicable in the case. Let thirty-five thousand suffering,
starving, and enlisted men aid this appeal. By prompt and decided
action in their behalf, thirty-five thousand heroes will be made
happy. For the eighteen hundred commissioned officers now prisoners we
urge nothing. Although desirous of returning to our duty, we can bear
imprisonment with more fortitude if the enlisted men, whose sufferings
we know to be intolerable, were restored to liberty and life.