THE IMMORTAL SIX HUNDRED.
A few months ago an American regiment was entirely surrounded by the German army in the Argonne Forest, and, though cut off from their command and without food for days, when called upon to surrender absolutely refused and held out till reénforcements came; and all the world rang with praise of the exploits of the "Lost Battalion."
Shall we forget the heroism of six hundred young Southern officers who during the War between the States were for months in great peril, part of the time under shell fire and all the time as prisoners of war with insufficient food?
It was reported to Maj. Gen. J. G. Foster, commanding United States forces, coast of South Carolina, on what proved afterwards incorrect information, that Maj. Gen. Sam Jones, in command of the Confederate forces, Department of South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida, had placed six hundred Union officers, prisoners of war, in the city of Charleston, S. C, where they would be exposed to the fire of the Union batteries. Accordingly, in August, 1864, Gen. J. G. Foster requested of Maj. Gen. H. W. Halleck, Chief of Staff, United States army, that six hundred Confederate officers, prisoners of war, be sent to him as an act of retaliation. At this time there were about fifteen hundred Confederate officers confined in Fort Delaware, a military prison on Pea Patch Island, in the Delaware River. From that number were selected six hundred officers—six colonels, six lieutenant colonels, sixteen majors, one hundred and seventy-six captains, one hundred and seventy-six first lieutenants, and two hundred and twenty second lieutenants—who were shipped to General Foster at Hilton Head, S. C.
Great was the joy of the Southern lads that morning of August 20, 1864, when they were placed upon a small gulf steamer, crowded as it was, for they thought they were to be exchanged and were on their way home. But their joy soon turned to bitter grief when they discovered that the boat, the Crescent City, was a prison ship, upon which for eighteen days they endured incredible suffering and torture from confinement below deck, intense seasickness with corresponding filth, not sufficient food to satisfy natural hunger, and added to the heat of the summer seas under a late summer sun were steam from the engines and the smell of tar and grease. At one time they were without water for forty hours, and strong men broke down under this deprivation and wept, begging like children for a drink of water. After they reached the coast of South Carolina the boat was anchored for some time, and on the afternoon of September 7 they were landed on Morris Island, a marshy island four miles from Charleston. Here they were confined for forty-five days in a prison pen, or inclosure, laid off four hundred yards from Battery Gregg in front, two hundred and fifty yards from Battery Wagner in the rear, and in line from the guns at Fort Sumter. The fire from the Federal batteries drew the return from the Confederate guns on Sumter, Johnson's Island, Fort Moultrie, and other forts guarding Charleston Harbor, and so these hapless prisoners were exposed to the fire of their own guns.
The guard placed over them was a negro regiment, the 54th
Massachusetts Volunteers, Col. E. N. Hallowell comma ing, all of whom treated the prisoners with great unkind and often brutality. Already so weak from confinement on prison ship that fifty of their number had to be carried ashore, unable to walk, their plight became even worse now from tl starvation rations issued, which consisted of a few moldy crackers, a small piece of fat meat, and half a pint of beat or rice soup daily. The prisoners obtained their drinki water by digging holes in the sand and waiting until suffici water oozed through. At one time the Confederate gove ment sent them, under a flag of truce, some tobacco, peanu' and sweet potatoes, part of which was appropriated by t negro guards; but poor as the gift was, it was much ap preciated by these boys, still loyal to a country they loved. These were days of anguish for them, and it was well they dic not know that worse ones were to follow.:
In an old pamphlet published by one of the number soon after the war he wrote: "Thus living on three crackers and: two ounces of meat and some warm water, fired upon, shelled, cursed, starved, and rendered miserable in every form, we: lingered on for forty-five days in this horrible place ere we) were permitted to bid a final and, I hope, an everlasting' farewell to Morris Island." Late in October they were placed upon an old schooner, which had to be towed by another ves-) sel, and sent to Fort Pulaski, on Cock Spur Island, at the: mouth of the Savannah River. Col. P. P. Brown, commandant of Fort Pulaski, colonel of the 127th New York Volunteers, was put in charge of the prisoners, and he and his guard were kind to them, and he made a requisition for blankets, clothing,' and full prison diet for them. - But all in vain; the orders came) from General Foster, and were peremptory, that the prisoners were to be given ten ounces of corn meal and half a pint of onion pickle each twenty-four hours, without salt, meat, grease,, or vegetables. The meal was old and full of bugs and worms, having been ground in 1861. At first these poor prisoners loathed it, but, under the pangs of awful hunger, ate it, worms and all. After they had been there a few weeks two hundred of the prisoners were sent to Hilton Head, S. C., and from dia-) ries kept by them it would seem that their sufferings equaled, if they did not exceed, those of their comrades confined within the damp brick walls of the casemates of Fort Pulaski. It was a cold winter, with snow on the ground Christmas Day, and these prisoners of war record that they had neither fire, blankets, nor sufficient clothing to protect them from the bit-| ter weather. Their hunger was so great that they had begun to catch and roast all the rats they could find. Once a day twelve) cord sticks of pine were issued to each twenty-eight men, and over these they cooked their corn meal and what animals they | could catch. They finally killed every cat and the few dogs | which came their way. Mrs. Brown, wife of Colonel Brown, | was kind to them and once gave one of them two slices of | bread and ham, which he mentions with gratitude, but which he} did not eat, giving to a younger comrade who was starving. Mrs. Brown had a big, fine cat, which she begged them to
tion not to roast "Old Tom" on Christmas Day. On one oc-}
casion the prisoners wrote Colonel Brown a petition to 'onal
My requests for you have all been ignored by headquarters; I can do nothing to alleviate your conditions."; They were sick and cold and hungry and suffered every(Concluded on page 70.]