The Portland daily press., 1880-09-16
Andersonville.
Committed the Foulest Crime. Recorded
In History.

III I1l5tOAy.
The following description Of the rebel prison
pen at Andersonville is taken from Mr.. o. T.
Boards story of "Bristling with Thorns," now
in course of publication in the Detroit Post
and Tribune. As piece of word-painting it
is remarkable. Yet there are many men lv-
ing to-day throughout the Union who will feel,
as they read it, that even this does not ade-
quately describe the horrors of that DEVILS in
vention, the memory of which causes strong
men to shudder even at this late day.
A railroad running north and south between
Macon and AmericuS; four or five struggling
rough board structures resting drowslly on the
yellow sand west of the road; twenty Cor thirty
people as vapid and rickety as the buildings
such was Andersonville before the Confedera-
cy made it synonymous with all that is cruel
and brutal. West of the railroad, and but a
few dozen yards removed from it are two
marshes in which spewings OF toads and rep
tiles and swamp oOze, decaying wood, rank
weeds and rank grass are distilled into poison
The marshes are 800 feet apart, one above
and one below the town. From the marshes
the poison runs off in two leafy brown, slug
gish currents across the railroad track, and
unite 400 feet east of it. From this contiu-
ence OF poisons the stream, in lethargic flow,
runs nearly due east, between hills rising with
gradual swell on either side until it is lost in
the Little Sweetwater, less than mile below.
Five hundred yards from the confluence of
the two little streams THAT looze out Of the
marshes there is another marsh. Around this
marsh the Andersonville prison-pen was con-
structed.
As finally completed the pen is an oblong,
780 by 1,620 feet the stream creeping through
its narrowest part, about 100 feet south OF the
centre.
''Si6" Winder superintendent the building
of the pen. When he began the marsh and
the hills that rise on either side of it were
clothed with heavy timber.
Early in December, 1868, Wlnder was at
work; the people of the surrounding country
came to look on. The whole population of
Americus, a little town few miles below, was
on tiptoe with excitement.
"Got so many Yanks don't know what to do
with they 'uns all.
"Gwine to build prison at Andahsen."
"Let's gwo."
They went.
Among those who went was Ambrose Spen-
Ger. When he arrived, negroes were digging
long trench; other negroes were telling trees,
others again were hewing their sides.
"What are these for?" said Spencer.
Winder looked "What?"
"The trees hewed on two sides.
"We put one end in the ground in that
trench. the hewed sides close together then
pack dirt about them. The result will be a
close pen with walls 20 feet high"
"Ah!"
"Reckon that'l hold EN-"
"Going to erect barracks or shelter of any
| kind?"
"No; the drafted Yankees who will be put
| here will have no need Of 'em."e
"Why, then, are you cuttir down the trees?
They will prove shelter to the prisoners from
| the heat of the sun at least"
''That is just why am cutting them down;
| l am going to build pen here that will kill
more Yankees than can be destroyed in the
| frontp'
s::Sid" Winder turned away and Jim Scroggs
| removed his ''cawncob" long enough to sug-
I gest, THAT air mawsh in the cinter o the
the pin'n help kill 'em might fass:
| "But why,' said Spencer, "don't they put
the pen below Or above the marsh?"
Don't want ter, reckon"
| ''That water would kill dog"
| "YaaS."
There's Little Sweetwater, five feet deep
! and twenty feet wide, not five hundred feet
| from where they are putting the pen, and not
marsh in it. Why don't they put the prison
there?"
| "This'll serve bettah, reckon"
''They could go below the marsh and take
| in both creeks, Little Sweetwater and this
| Double Branch rum"
"Yaas, they uns aould."
"Then they would have abundance of water
for cooking, bathing, every purpose, and good,
healthy ground"
"Why in the world don't they put the pen
there?"
"This yere serve bettah, reckon"
st looks like purpose to kill"
| "Yas; kill the mizable coots O. Yanks heah
| quick. Better thet nor gittin shot wi'um."
| Spenser went away. The construction pro-
| gressed. The pen was completed.
| The marsh lay fostering sore in its centre
| Then came the captives Eight hundred
| first from New Hampshire, Connecticut and
| Michigan. Weary, worn and hungry from
| prolonged travel, cooped like beasts in freight
| cars.
| Down from the depot they marched wearily
on through the shifting sands, amid the jeers
| and taunts of a<gapiDg crowd
The gate opened.
The stockade swallowed them.
Then they saw walls of pine, a Shiny brown
creek, six feet wide and five inches deep
| struggling through the soft mud, and a waste
| of yellow sand dotted with huge stumps. And
there were no buildings, no sheds, no shelter
no concealment from pelting storms, no screen
| from the blazing sun.
That was the 18th day of February, 1864.
"a DESERT" cried one q
Wait! A desert is mercy TO this.
The volume of captives swelled.
The heroic, plucked from the front OF battle
The daring, tricked by suerillas.
The devoted, who sacrificed liberty to save
| brigade, or division or an army.