The citizen. (Honesdale, Pa.) 1908-1914, 1912-03-15
was scarcely Is. when all through


give up home, friends and occupation
land march towards the southland to
fight for the preservation of the
Union.
The drums sounded through the
streets, as the captain called out
g fall in" And away we marched to
the time-worn school house, where
were assembled our friends, parents,
and sweethearts. With a newly
made silken emblem of our country
to present us. With a hearty three
cheers for the flag of the free, we
reached the railway station and
boarded the cars. With a big Har-
+ per's Ferry musket, bayonet stick
ing in our button hole, forty rounds
of cartridges in our coat tail pocket,
we arrived at our first scene of con-
fiict, Cockeyesville, near Baltimore.
Could we have drawn aside the
screen that hides from our ken the
picture of the future, l wonder if
we would have had the courage to
go. There was part of that four
years service for my country, that
had the perils, hardships and suffer-
ings that we were to endure been
cast before me, am afraid it would
have weakened my nerves, and less
eueu my courage.
/ could stand the life in camp, the
sometimes long and severe marches,
the tread of the sentinel upon the
picket post, the line of battle, the
scream of shot and shell, the groans
and cries of the wounded and the
dying, but my very soul recoiles at
the horrors of the prison pen. The
mighty procession of years, creeping
nm Il 70 hn 4 NlN1
crate the remembrance of the deeds
4 done there where thousands per-
| ished; whose wailings were heard
| through the fair Savannas to the far
off regions of the frozen north.
1t is the eve of the battle of Win
/ chester. The long roll has sounded
over the tented field. The lines are
quickly formed for action. The
quick touch of the elbow, man to
man, the bayonet glistening in the
sunlight down along that swerving
line, the ricochet of flying shells
scream through the air, the thou
sands of muskets add smoke and
fury with the blazing cannon. The
lines waver forward, then back, over
the dying rush the living, friend and
foe together fall.
Later-The smoke clears itself
away towards the Furnished sepul-
chers of sunset. The faded leaf falls
to soften their last earthly bed. The
blood-stained grass marks the last
resting place of many comrades,
while the nightingales sing a re-
QUEEN to their souls as we bury their
silent forms under a moon-lit sky,
to rest in the sweet sleep of peace
for all eternity.
The morning dawns. The red
crested sky reflects the rising sun
as we make our last charge on a
Louisiana battery. Hemmed in on
all sides, under an enfilading fire of
shot and shell, this morning of the
third days fight, a part of the 9Th
Maryland, 18th Connecticut, S7th
and 9th regiments of Pennsylvania
succumb, and away to Libby prison
we are marched. l am thankful I
have not that story of eleven months
confinement to tell over again.
After eleven months confinement
in Libby, we were removed to DAN
vile, then to Salisbury, and soon to
Macon, Georgia, where a prison pen
was erected. with upright logs.
If you are travelling on the Fyler
or the Indianapolis between Seattle
the lighthouse near Maury dock, you
will observe great white platforms
built from the shore over the water
and back of them many houses of up
right logs, similar in design. This
is my home, but there is no deadline
within the enclosure.
At this prison my friend and COM
rade, Lieut.. ]. A. Rockwell, of Col
umbia Station, Seattle, arranged and
for the first time presented his fam
GUS song, Sherman's March to the
Sea-"
1t was in this pen we held our
Fourth of July celebration in 1864,
when Col. Northcott Gf / remember
right, of the Twelfth Virginia Loyal
Infantry, pulled from his bosom a
miniature flag, six inches square,
placed it on a stick and lifted it to
the gaze of 100 prisoners. You
should have seen the hollow eye grow
bright and the poor heart almost
!gay, when Gen. Shaler of a New York
lcommand started " o Say can you see
by the dawns early light"
Six hundred of us were removed
to Charleston, S. c., and placed in
the Charleston jail yard under fire
OF the Union guns from Morris ISL
and six weeks in July and August,
1864. Our government finally de-
manded our removal and We were
taken to Columbia, S. C.
One dark, stormy night in Novem-
ber the lightning's fash lit up that
loathsome prison. A comrade of the
9th Maryland and myself watched
our opportunity from near the dead
line and as the guards separated up
on their beat, swift as the bolt
from the heavens, while its binding
effects darkened the eyes of our vig'-
liant watchers, away we flew across
the dead line beyond the guard. Our
light footsteps were muffled by the
loud thunder, and we reached the
forest close by. Then on over logs,
through brush, we few as fast as our
emaciated limbs would permit, buoy
ed and strengthened by the knowl-
edge that for the first time in SO
many months the glistening bayonets
no longer arrested our lives and our