The National tribune., 1904-09-22
LAST DAYS OF
ANDERSONVILLE PRISON.
Ending the History OF the Torture.Pen.
Prisoners Shipped to Vicksburg and to
Florida Sight of the Old Flag.
BY }. W. CoTEs, CO. I, 18th IOWA

Some comrade asks that the last days
at Andersonville-the days when the prison
was broken up-be written UP, and wishes
to know the feelings of the comrades when
they took their departure from that place,
when they first beheld the old Flag, etc.
Having been there, l will endeavor to
give the time of our departure, how we
went and where; but the emotions that
possessed the hearts of the men must ever
remain imaginary to those who were not
there, and to those who were, the memory
of dream almost lost. the result of their
physical and mental condition then, and
the lapse of time since.
The following, though written for an
other purpose, Is sent in response to the
comrades request:
1t is useless to attempt description of
this place. Language is as pOwerless to
convey as the mind of man-whO has not
been there's to conceive an idea of the
horrors of that place. Imagine, If you
can, want filth, vermine, disease, crime
and death, each at its worst, all cOnspir-
ing to make the lot of man miserable, and
you have then but faint idea of place
which, for want of anything else with
which it can be compared, will simply be
called Andersonville.
The prison, after July, 1864, consisted
of rectangular field containing about
23H acres. extending nearly north and
south, nearly three times as long as it
was wide, fenced by a stockade of logs
hewn so they would stand closely together,
set five feet into the ground and 70 feet
in height. Outside this stockade were two
others, partially completed, at least. one
Is and the other II feet in height. At in
tervals were covered perches ton the in
ner stockade) for the use of the guard.
Sd in number. Within, about 20 or %
co. 81 ntyn.ln at
perhaps three feet i'm height, on top of
which-where it had not at some time
been removed-was a light strip of pine !;
this was the dead line. to cross, to touch.
or even to reach beyond which was suffi-
cient to justify the guard in shooting with
out warning. Across the prison, near the
middle. from west to east, flowed a small
brook bordered On either side by a strip
of swampy land-which brook entered the
prison after receiving the wash and filth
from the Confederate camps and the wash
and off-how from the slaughter and cook
house of the prison. This furnished all the
water for the use of the prison until, after
a heavy rain storm, Aug. IL, 1864, when
a spring of clear. cold water broke out.
between the dead line" and the stock
ade, on the north side of the creek, so far
up on the hillside that the water was con-
veyed by a trough, resting on the dead
line" TO the prisoners. This was the ia
nous "Providence Spring"
On the west side Of the prison were two
gates. one on either side of the creek,
known as the North and South gates re-
spectively. Each OF these had smaller
stockade around it. and outside the line
of the main stockade. The doors. both
outer and inner. fastened on the outside.
and the inner door was never opened UNI
til the outer one was closed and fastened.
except. perhaps. when a large number of
new prisoners were admitted; at such
times strong force Of armed guards were
in attendance. The South gate was the
only one in general use when the 18th
Iowa BOYS were there. To this place ca me
Clark. Cotes and Koeher. with the other
Macon prisoners. On their arrival an off
Ger came to take the name, company and
regiment of each. Clark said to one near
him. Look out for him; l know him.
That's old Wirz: he's devil" Clark had
been a prisoner at Tuscaloosa, Ala, in
1862. when Sergt.-Maj. Wirz gained an I'M
enviable reputation as commander Of the
prison. While thus employed, an old Ger
man, a prisoner, had noticed that Wirz
spoke in broken English. sought to gain
his good will. presumably, by answering
him in German. Wirz sprang at him like
a dog, caught him by the neck, threw him
to the foot of the little hill on which they
stood, and poured forth volume of abuse
where. As soon as the record was com
pleted they marched to the South gate
and were at once admitted to what proved
to be their home until the war was over.
But what sight met their eyes! No
pen can describe it; this pen shall not
try. There they were in the stockade,
no shelter save what they brought with
Twas Winter, the coolest that had ever
visited the region; the ground was frozen
and the mercury was indicating but l6
degrees above zero. They entered the
stockade, as barren of trees or any other
vegetation as a city street. All felt that in
order to live something must be done
Nine or 10 of the new prisoners, includ-
work on the cooperative plan in building
a shelter. Five men in each hundred were
allowed to go out each day for wood; they
were obliged to 60 to the woods for it, and
could have such as they could bring in
on their shoulders. In time, they would
have enough timber to build a house, pro-
vided none of it was used or stolen. To
prevent the latter, every night, until their
house was erected, the men tied the accu-
mulated pieces of wood to their bodies, that
they might not be taken without their
awaking, and simply lay down on the
frozen ground to get what sleep they could.
They leyeed place on the hillside large
enough Tor all to lie down upon, erected
frame of the wood, and, one day, in
stead Of wood, brought in a lot of pine
boughs, with which the frame was covered /:
and, lastly they covered all with several
inches of sand. From this time they were
comparatively comfortable: one trouble
they found. however. it rained about six
hours in their cave after it stopped rain
ing outside.
In March, 1865, they began to parole
men from the prison, and send them
through the lines near Vicksburg, Miss.
Officials around the prison made quite a
speculation of this. Those who had money
and were willing to pay for the privilege
could go first. In fact, chances" to 20
were as openly sold as at an auction.
who will give s. for the chance to be
paroled and sent through the lines on the
first train?" was cried out at the gate
time after time. On the promise being
made by prisoner his name was entered
on the list, the money paid when he was
paroled; when the train arrived, his name
was called, and he was known no more at
Andersonville. AS time passed the rate
was reduced, until a blanket, pair of
shoes, or anything of any value whatever
would be taken. This continued until the
road to Vicksburg was cut by the Federal
cavalry, when. for a short time, no more
men were sent out.
On the evening of April 5, 1868, it was