Key to abbreviations, Prisoners of War text, and list of Prisoners;                                                 
From Racine County Militant, an illustrated narrative of war times,            
and a soldiers’ Roster. Written by Eugene Walter Leach, a Pioneer 
publication.

Transcribed and contributed for use in the USGenWeb Archives by
Sheri Kennedy  <  necroscope52@hotmail.com  >

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KEY TO ABBREVIATIONS

A.A.I.G., Acting Assistant Inspector General
A.C., Army Corps
Acci., Accident
Adj. Or Adjt., Adjutant
Amp., Amputated
Batt., Battalion or Battery
Batty, Battery
Brev. Or Bvt., Brevet
Brig., Brigade
Brig. Genl., Brigadier General
Capt., Captain
Cav., Cavalry
Cem., Cemetery
Chap., Chaplain
Co., Company
Col., Colored or Colonel
Com., Commissary or Commission
Corp., Corporal
Des., Deserted
Det., Detached or Detailed
Dis., Disease
Disab., Disability
Disch., Discharged
Div., Division
Enl., Enlisted
Exp., Expired
Hosp., Hospital
Hvy. Art., Heavy Artillery
Ind. Batt., Independent Battalion
Inf., Infantry
Lieut., Lieutenant
Lt. Art., Light Artillery
Maj., Major
Mil., Military
M.I., Mustered In
M.O., Mustered Out
Mus., Musician
Non.Com., Non Commissioned
Perm., Permanent
Pres., President
Prin. Mus., Principal Musician
Prin., Principal
Pris., Prisoner
Prom., Promoted
Q.M., Quarter Master
Reg., Regular
Reg’t., Regiment 
Reorg., Reorganized
Res., Resigned
Sec., Section
Ser., Service
Sergt., Sergeant
Sub., Substitute
Surg., Surgeon
Tel., Telegraph
Trans., Transferred
Unas., Unassigned
Vet., Veteran
Vol., Volunteer
V.R.C., Veteran Reserve Corps
Wnd., Wounded

PRISONERS OF WAR

There is no more absorbing tale of adventure, when well told, than
the story woven about the capture and imprisonment, escape and final
return to God’s Country of the Federal soldier in the War of the
Rebellion. There is no phase of suffering; no test of fortitude or             
of resource; no trial of patriotism, that does not find place in such           
a story.  It will always have a thrilling interest for patriotic       
Americans, young and old, but citizens of Racine county should take             
a peculiar interest, and a pardonable pride in a recital of the        
experiences and exploits of our own fellow citizens, acquaintances            
and friends.

There were a large number of soldiers from Racine county who were
held in Southern prisons, first and last during the war, most of whom
were in Libby and Danville, Va.  The entire Twenty-second regiment
with few exceptions, with its three companies from Racine county, were
confined in Libby prison, at Richmond, though their stay there was
comparatively short, most of them being exchanged within a few weeks
or months of capture.  Quite a considerable number of men made their
escape from prison, but we have not room in the limits of this          
narrative to give more than an outline of a very few of these escapes        
that have come to our knowledge.

IN LIBBY

The first concerns a quintette of Racine county boys who were captured
at the battle of Chickamauga, Ga., September 18, 1863, and their exper-
ience is typical of that of scores and hundreds of others.  It will be 
remembered that this desperate battle was a serious reverse for the
Union army, which was greatly outnumbered there.  It was here that Col.
Hans Heg, of the Fifteenth regiment, and many other Racine county men,
were killed.  Capt. John T. Rice, of Company C, of that regiment, told
me that of their eight companies that went into that fight, only twenty-
nine men and four officers, of whom he was one, reported at roll call
afterward, all of the others having been killed, wounded, or taken
prisoners. But five men were left in his company. The sanguinary nature
of that battle may be well judged by these results.  The battle lasted
two days, and many Federal prisoners were taken, among whom were John
R. Schofield, Thomas Anderson, C. S. Chapman, F. McDonald, and
Joseph Leach, all of Company C, 1st Wisconsin Infantry, and all of them
Residents of the middle and western parts of Racine county.

After capture they were marched a mile to the rear of the rebel lines,
and kept over night within sound of the battle, which continued for
another day; the next morning they were marched 18 miles to Tunnel Hill,
a railway station, and packed into cattle cars, to be carried to
Richmond, where Libby prison was located.  On the march to the railway,      
they were subjected to taunts and ribaldry from men, women and children;
at Atlanta, also, women who looked like ladies, called names and used
language that would disgrace a Northern street walker.  In response the
prisoners sang, We’ll Hang Jeff Davis --, Rally ‘Round the Flag, Boys,
and other patriotic songs.

After traveling eleven days, they arrived at Belle Isle, where they 
remained about a week, in the open air, without shelter, though it
rained for three days of the six.  On October 6, they were taken over
to the Smith building, Libby prison.  This prison consisted of several
large tobacco warehouses, the Pemberton, the Scott and the Smith
Buildings. The men were crowded into these structures so closely that
they could not all lie down at the same time.

The Smith building was one of three stories, with attic and basement,
though the two latter were not used for prisoners.  It was divided from
ground to roof by a brick partition wall, pierced only by one door on
each floor, which was tightly nailed up.  It was soon discovered by
some of the men who prowled about the building during the nights, 
that salt was stored in sacks in the basement of the building where the
Racine boys were, and brown sugar in the other cellar, and it was not
long before they secured a big supply of both, storing it in stockings,
shirt sleeves and coat and pants linings.  It must be stated and will be
believed, that salt and sugar were unaccustomed luxuries for the
prisoners.  Before discovery, a dozen hogsheads of brown sugar and
many sacks of salt had been appropriated and eaten.  The prison
officials were very complacent in their attitude toward the theft, remark-
ing that the owner was not entitled to sympathy, as he was holding the
salt and sugar for a rise in price.

When the captives entered their prison they were dispossessed of every-
thing they had of value to them or their captors, including money,
jewelry, blankets, overcoats, etc.  Most of the glass was out of the
windows, and with the winter winds blowing through, the bare floor to
lie on, and not even a stone for a pillow, no covering and insufficient
food, and that of little nourishment, their condition was deplorable. If
a man approached a window to look out he would be likely to be shot,
for that was against the rules, and guards were not obliged to challenge.

Later in the winter of ’64, the Rebs permitted our government to send
Blankets to their prisoners at Libby, which saved the lives of many, for
Some would surely have frozen to death without them.

TO DANVILLE

On December 9, many of the prisoners at Libby were transferred to
Danville, Va., and the Racine county boys were among them.  At this
prison conditions of crowding and filth were even worse than at Libby,
though the food was not quite so bad.

Thomas Anderson, one of the prisoners, in his book, Rebel Prison Life,
Gives the following description of the food they were obliged to eat at
Danville:  Our amount of rations has been described by many before,
but I wish to add my testimony, before God to be the truth, as our own
boys did the cooking, they knew what the bread was made of.  They
said unbolted cornmeal, the squares made, as near as I can guess, about
the size of a brick, each square being for two.  I don’t think such corn
bread with so much bran in it could weigh one ration half-size of a brick,
more than six or seven ounces, and a small piece of meat, which a man
put all at once in his mouth, about three ounces.

Part of the winter they gave us, as they called it, an extra ration.  It con-
sisted of a swill which they called soup, in which they boiled our meat.
They would throw in a little musty rice or peas, and every pea would 
have a bug in it.  These bugs would cover the top of the kettle, and as
our boys would be going for the swill, they were taken to the river and
have their pails half filled with water, which they threw in the kettles,
when the cook gave it a stir and dipped it into their pails.  If the meat
was salt, if fresh, the soup was fresh, and when divided each one got
about half a pint, with an average of about one tablespoon of peas or
rice.  It looked just like dish water covered on top with bugs, but we 
would crumble a piece of bread in it and think it might be worse.  Our
drink was river water.  Our bread and meat were generally eaten before
we got our soup, but some would reserve a small piece to put in it.  I
think, as a general rule, the boys ate their whole day’s rations at once,
when it was drawn.  We found it seemed to satisfy us most that way, but
would feel hungry after eating the whole ration.  Then we would lie on
that hard floor through the long winter nights and wait until 9 or 11
o’clock next day before getting more.

We were so thin by this time that the boys said we had the U.S. brand on
us.  But I think it was C.S.A. brand.  It was a spot worn almost through
on the hip bone and shoulder, caused by lying on the hard floor; it was
often so cold that we could not sleep very sound and would be awakened
by some of our comrades calling out with pain from rheumatism or some
other aches.  It was nothing uncommon to see a human form of bones
any morning that the spirit had left during the night.

Most of the prisoners were young men, many of them unused to and im-
patient of restraint, and the rules of the prison were broken occasionally.
A common and effective punishment for fractious prisoners was
bucking.  This exercise consisted in sitting a man on the ground with
his wrists tied together, his knees thrust up through his arms, and a
stick pushed through under his knees to hold the position.  John R.
Schofield had this tried on him, and he admits that it is as uncomfortable
as it is undignified, particularly so when the victim is sitting in a puddle
of mud, as he was at the time he was experimented on.

Sometimes a few of the prisoners were detailed outside to do work, and
in returning would bring pieces of laurel root, out of which, those who
had succeeded in retaining knives, carved some very elaborate and
artistic pipe bowls and other trinkets, and as time was no object, their
ornateness was limited only by the art and skill of the carver.  An
exceptionally fine pipe bowl was carved by Thomas Anderson, which
he took out with him when he escaped.

DIGGING OUT OF DANVILLE

Imprisonment, under the best conditions, is degradation enough for any
normal man, and when so confined, he will always be planning escape;
but when, in addition to the bars, he is unable to keep clean or warm; is
fed unwholesome food and not half enough of it; is only half clothed;
is obliged to sleep on boards, and is without occupation for hands or
mind, a live man will take desperate chances and will face death in any
form in an effort to regain his liberty.  And these five men from Racine
county, with a few others, when they learned that they were soon to be
taken to Andersonville, determined to get away or die in the attempt.

It appears that at Danville there was a prison yard surrounded by a
stockade, in one corner of which was a very large sink, access to which
was allowed the prisoners at will in the daytime, under guard, of course;
at night six only at a time were permitted to visit it.  The yard had a
sloping surface and the rains had washed out a considerable lot of earth
between the sink walls and the vault, leaving room for several men to
conceal themselves there.  One afternoon when there were many men in
the yard, a dozen of them crawled under the vault door, though only
eight had been planned for, and when the guards drive the prisoners in-
side at dusk, they remained there undiscovered.  When darkness fell,
and the prisoners in sixes were heard tramping on the sink floor, those
underneath began digging, and , though it was slow, heart-breaking
work, they got under the stockade at last, and under and into a small
blacksmith shop that stood just outside, where they found they would
be obliged to cut through a 12 or 14 inch oak board to get out of the shop.
Guards were continually walking their beats, from the shop to the corner
of the prison, and even tried to peer into the shop through the cracks, so
that any noise would have been fatal to the enterprise.  In cutting the oak
board, they used an old gimlet, which one of the men had become
possessed of, in boring a line of holes across the board, and then break-
ing out the parts between, until a piece two and one-half feet long was
removed. During the work in the shop, only those engaged were allowed
out of the hole; the situation of those remaining in the tunnel and under
the sink floor may be described perhaps, but their feelings, while awaiting
the outcome, can scarcely be imagined.

As Tom Anderson stepped quietly out into the starlight through the hole
made in the side of the blacksmith shop, he saw a plowed garden with a
dead furrow just before him, while about ten feet away stood a guard,
straight as a lamp post, who, luckily, was looking the other way and saw
and heard nothing and soon moved off.  Down the dead furrow, which
had been providentially made the day before, they all quietly crawled and
scrambled, one after another, undiscovered.  The Racine boys and two
Minnesota soldiers had agreed, in case they got out safely, to meet first
at an island in the Dan river that was in sight from the prison; this they
did.  Then they started up the river, traveling by twos, but as it was near
daybreak, they did not get far before they were obliged to conceal them-
selves under the leaves in the woods, for it was certain that they would
be hunted by blood-thirsty hounds and worse men.  Soon they could
hear horses galloping, men calling and hounds baying in all directions,
butas they had only traveled three or four miles, the pursuers probably
over-ran the trail, thinking they would have gotten further away.  The
first day passed with but few alarms; one when two negro boys stumbled
onto them and ran frightened home, and again when a turkey gobbler
walked almost over them, whose noisy tread they mistook for a man’s;
but it was the longest day of their lives.

A detailed account of their experiences from day to day, or rather from
night to night, for they traveled by night only, would make a book of
itself; manifestly we have not the room for it here; but we must relate
that during that month in the woods, almost their only source of supply
for food was the colored people, who were always willing, out of their
own scanty store, to share with the Union men.  They never failed in
this and were also helpful in giving information, and of course, never
betrayed them.  This was the common experience and testimony of
every Union man cast on his own resources in the South during the war,
and it is a high tribute to the innate goodness of heart, and to the under-
standing of that people, that none of them ever failed to recognize their
friends, and that all were willing, at great risk to themselves often, to
make common cause with the refugee for the latter’s safety.

There were some striking incidents in connection with this escape that
are well worth recording here.

In the company that got away that night there were seven particular
friends, in whose fortunes we are especially interested; five of them the
Racine county men, and two Minnesota boys.

On the second night in the woods, April 26, it was thought best, in the
interest of safety, to separate, and as they approached a mountain three
took one side and four the other.  They traveled for four days, fifty or
sixty miles, and on the night of the thirtieth the party of three received,
at the hands of a negro, some food that he had agreed to deliver to the
party of four, all being but a short distance apart in the woods, on the
outskirts of a plantation.  A little discreet skirmishing disclosed the real
situation and a joyous reunion was indulged in.  On inquiry it was found                                                    
that their paths had been fully ten miles apart at times and their coming
together at the time and under the circumstances was considered a re-
markable incident.  After a visit until midnight, they again separated and
continued their tedious journey toward the north star and home.  Every
day they suffered hardships, endured privations and were in peril of their
lives.  Once while twenty Confederate soldiers occupied a negro’s cabin,
they were hidden under the bedroom floor.  Two days and nights were
spent under the floor of a barn without food or drink, while Morgan’s
cavalry hung about the plantation, stabling the horses just over their
heads, from which perilous situation they were finally relieved by a                                                       
darky, who notified them when the Rebs had gone, and fed them up.

As they got further north they encountered some Union white men, who,
with their families, were trying to live in this treason-cursed country and
be loyal.  They were having an awful time of it, the men being obliged to
hide out at night for fear of capture and torture by bands of guerrillas.
They were able to give the fugitives some valuable assistance, however.

OLD GLORY AGAIN

On the second of May the party of four divided and thereafter traveled
by twos, as it was considered safer, and they found they could get as
much food for two as for four.  Chapman and McDonald were in one
party and Anderson and Leach in the other.  On the twenty-fourth of
May, just thirty days after digging out of Danville, Anderson and Leach
were halted in the woods by a Union picket, and ordered to advance and
give the countersign.  They had no countersign, but did have something
just as good, and they were taken to camp at Kanawha, where for the
first time in eight months they feasted their eyes on Old Glory.  On the
first steamer that came along they were taken to Charleston, under guard,
as they were still regarded with some suspicion.  At Charleston they
learned that McDonald and Chapman had gone down a few days before,
and they took a boat for Galipolis, where they met Schofield, Vesey and
Dyer, the party of three from whom they had separated three weeks
Before in the Virginia woods.  All of the seven who escaped from Dan-
Ville a month before were now accounted for, and safe and a glorious
reunion was indulged in.  In a few days these five were sent down the
Ohio to Cincinnati, where they met McDonald and Chapman. They were
all given furloughs, which enabled them to make a visit to the home
folks, after which they returned to their command, the First regiment, at
Pulaski, Tenn., and served out their terms of enlistment.

Two other men of the First regiment, whom they had left in Danville
prison, were found back in the army, they having escaped while on the
way to Andersonville by cutting a hole in the bottom of a railroad car in
which they were riding.

Mr. Schofield, who is now living at Griswold, Iowa, is the only survivor
of the five Racine county men who took part in this prison delivery.  In
September, 1914, for the first time in fifty years, he made a visit to
Racine county, and, though most of the old comrades and friends of his
youth were gone, there were still enough left to give him an enthusiastic
welcome and to show him a good time.  He spent nearly two weeks in
the county, and several days with Mr. Edwin Noble, in Racine.  In two
public addresses he told his recollections of these thrilling experiences
to larger and interested audiences, and much of the material for this
story came from his lips.

ESCAPE OF CHARLES PATRICK

There are numerous instances of Union prisoners escaping after having
been captured by the rebels, and before being taken very far from the
Union lines.  The return under these circumstances was usually a matter
of a few hours, and was attended by comparatively little hardship or
danger.  After a captive had been placed in a prison or taken a long dis-
tance within the enemies’ territory, however, an attempt at escape
became a much more serious affair, and when undertaken, was more
often ended in failure than in success, and failure generally meant death.

Charles Patrick, a Racine boy, a member of the Belle City Rifles, was
taken prisoner at the Battle of Gettysburg, but escaped while being
taken to the rear.  In the Battle of the Wilderness, May 5, 1864, he was
again made a prisoner and was confined in Andersonville, Ga., until the
fall of Atlanta, September 2, 1864, when it was decided to transfer the
prisoners to more safe places of keeping.  In a letter to his father, Jones
Patrick, at Racine, he tells the following graphic story of his escape:

Ft. Columbus, N.Y. Harbor, October 9, 1864

Dear Father:
I thought that I would write to let you know that I am well and hope that
these few lines will find you in the same good health.

I escaped from the rebels on the fourteenth of September, on the North-
eastern railroad, about sixty miles from Charleston, S.C.  They had me
in prison at Andersonville, Ga.  They commenced moving the prisoners
on the eighth of September.  I left the camp on the twelfth and the rebels
told us they were going to move us to Charleston to be exchanged, and
so I did not try to get away from them until after we had passed that
place, and just after we had crossed the Sante river I jumped out of the
cars; they were going at about the rate of fifteen miles an hour.  Twenty-
four of the guard fired at me, but they did not hit me.  When I jumped
out I fell and before I could get up three of the guard fired at me.  I
started to run and more of them fired at me, one of the balls passing so
near my head that I felt as though I was shot, but they kept on firing at
me and one ball passed through my coat, but did not touch the hide.  I
laid still upon the ground until the train had got out of sight and then I
jumped up and ran into the woods, for fear that the train might stop, but
it did not.  I supposed they thought they had killed or wounded me, so
that I could not get away from them, and they could pick me up when 
they came back from Florence, S.C., as that was the place they were
moving us to.

I will tell you about the trip I had through the country.  I had to walk
South-east to strike the river below the railroad. It was about 10 o’clock
when I jumped out, and I traveled about five hours and came back to
the same place I started from.  I had no shoes; my feet were scratched
up with the briars, but I did not give up.  I started again and went until
about 8 o’clock that night, when I got into the briars so that I could not
get through them.  I bent some of them over and laid down and went to 
sleep and slept till morning.

I got up and started again and came out on a road and met some negroes
and asked them the way to the river, and they told me that it was down
the road that I was on.  I started for it and had gone about two miles
when I came to a plantation on which a negro woman was milking the
cows.  I asked her if that was the road to the river and she told me that
it was.  I asked her if there was anyone in the house.  She said there was
a rebel officer and three men there, and just as I started to go a white
boy came out on the stoop and saw me.  He went into the house and
told the folks that I was going by. One of the men came out, but I had on
a rebel hat, and they could see nothing of me but my head, and so I was
all right.  I walked until I got out of sight of them and then I ran as fast
as I could.

I traveled about five miles and then I went into a negro woman’s house
and asked her if she would giveme something to eat.  She gave me some
corn bread and milk, but she did not have much to give.  Just as I came
out of the house there were two white boys who asked me to halt.  I
stopped and asked them what they wanted, they said nothing, and so I
went on.  They thought I was a Reb, and if I had started to run they
would have recaptured me.

I kept on the road all of that day, until I came to the river.  Here I met a
Negro who had been in the rebel army with his master, who had got
wounded and came home.  The negro was working on the side of the
road, and just as I came up he asked me to give him some tobacco.  I
gave it to him and then he asked me if I was a soldier.  I told him that I
was.  He asked me in what army.  I told him Beauregard’s, and then I
asked him if he had any water.  He said that he had, and I went to the
well with him.  He got a cup for me to drink out of and after I had drank
he commenced laughing and said that I could not play any Yankee tricks
on him, that he knowed I was a Yankee soldier, and that I had escaped
from prison.  He said that he did not think that I would get through.  I
told him that I could try.  He said that he would not tell of me, and I
started for the river, which I reached about 4 o’clock in the afternoon of
the fifteenth of September.  I looked all over for a canoe, but could not
find one.  I pulled off my clothes and swam out in the river and looked
up and down to see if I could see a boat, but could not.  I then swam to
the shore again and gathered driftwood to make a raft to go down the
river on, but just as I had got it all gathered and my drawers torn up in
strips, there were two negroes came down the river in a canoe and land-
ed on the other side.  They pulled the canoe high and dry, so there was
no possibility of getting that one; but while I was waiting for it to get
dark, there were two more negroes came down with two more canoes
and tied them to a tree, so I jumped into the river and swam across. The
river was as wide as from our house down to the corner of Seventh
street, and when I got on shore I was so tired that I fell down and laid
there for some time, but I started for the canoes; the negroes had built a
fire close to the bank and sat there by it.  I began to think my chance of
getting one of them was rather slim, when the negroes turned their
backs and I jumped into one of the canoes and untied it and started for
the other shore where my clothes were.  I got them and started down
the river.  I went about twenty miles that night and laid over all the next
day, the sixteenth of September, and that night I got out on the coast
about 2 o’clock.  I laid on the beach the next day till about 4 o’clock in
the afternoon, when the boat of the gunboat Flambo came ashore and
took me on board and gave me something to eat.  I staid with them two
days, when they sent me to Port Royal to see the admiral.  I stayed on
board the flagship for two days, and then they sent me on shore at
Hilton Head, S.C., and from there I came to this place.

Give my respects to all of the folks and to Mart and the rest of the boys.
I think I will go to the regiment in a few days.

From your son,
Chas. Patrick

IN CASTLE MORGAN

The following letter was written by the son of Mr. S. Kelley, alderman
from the Fifth ward in 1865, and shows what many of our boys had to
endure for the cause of the Union.  Six months in a rat trap.

Dear Parents:
You would probably like to hear an outline of a prisoner’s life and ex-
perience.  I can give you a brief history of my sojourn in the South.

I was captured by Forest on the twenty-first of August, 1864, before
breakfast, marched twenty-five miles without anything to eat, after
first being stripped of anything the Rebs fancied, my hat being the first
thing.  Stopped at Hernando over night, and until the next day at 10
o’clock when Gen. Washburn sent out a flag of truce with hardtack,
bacon, sugar and coffee for us.  We then started on, marching a distance
of forty-five miles before stopping (part of the time on double quick, as
it was reported the Yanks were in pursuit), at a place called Panola,
where we lay down on an old brick pile to keep out of the mud, being
glad of a chance to repose, even on as soft a bed as a brick pile, for I 
must say we were completely done gone, as the Johnnies say.

The next morning we took the cars for Canton, passing through several
small towns, where we were put in a small room over night, and fleas,
lice and filth was no name for it.  We were then started for Jackson,
Miss., where we were packed in an old store where prisoners had been
kept ever since the war.  A little corn was thrown in to us.  We were
obliged to build fires in the close and filthy room in order to cook it,
and with the smoke, heat and filth it was almost unendurable.

We at last arrived at Cahawba, and after being thoroughly searched and
all our valuables taken from us, we were ushered into an old cotton 
shed with the roof nearly all blown off, which bears the name of Castle
Morgan, where we found four or five hundred other prisoners, making
our number about seven hundred in all.  We were fed on what they
called corn meal, but what I should call pig feed, as it was made of old
musty corn, and only half ground at that.  We also received very small
quantities of bacon or beef; a little flour once in a while, rice, nigger
beans and salt, which we cooked in skillets, or spiders with covers, on
which we built our fires, (that is, when we could get wood) for we 
would have to stand in line two or three days in succession before we
could get wood enough to cook our grub. We thought the prison was
crowded when there were only six or seven hundred in it, but it was
soon filled to over-flowing, they being so inhuman as to increase the
numbers to twenty-five hundred, packing them in like sheep, there
being scarcely room enough to lie down.  The most, in fact nearly all,
had to lie on the ground, as there were but few bunks, without blankets
or anything to cover them but what they might have on.  Many is the
poor fellow who had nothing to cover his nakedness but an old pair of
pants or perhaps a shirt.

I forgot to describe the inside of the prison.  There were three barrels
sunk in the middle which were left filled with water by means of a pipe
which brought it from the outside from a force pump.  There was a line
of posts around the inside of the prison six feet from the wall, which
was the guard’s beat, and the penalty for stepping over this line was
death.  There were three men shot and seven or eight bayonetted while
I was there, and two shot dead just a few days before I came away.

You will probably say we must have had a lazy time, but it was not so.
What little time we were not employed cooking and getting wood, we
could easily busy ourselves cleaning off the vermin and dirt from our
clothes, and then by no means be rid of them.  If it had not been for the
clothing and blankets sent us, hundreds of those who are now here
would have never been seen in our lines.  It was terrible to hear the
groans of the sick and suffering as we lay at night before we received
the clothing.  Those who were able would walk about the whole night
long to keep from freezing.  It was a common occurrence to find two or
three in the morning chilled to death.

At the time of the flood the water stood from three to four feet deep in
the prison, and we had to build up cribs of wood and boards to stay on;
(that is, such as could get it), while others had to stand in the winter.
Some dried themselves in the windows and on the beams, with their
blankets.  The water stayed in the prison five days, and all we had to
drink was what we dipped up in the prison, where over two thousand
men were continually wading about in it, and the overflowing of the sink
and other filth was kept well stirred up.  When the water did finally go
down it was a sight to behold.  When the prison was policed, two wheel-
barrow loads of drowned rats were taken out.

Not to dwell on the subject longer than possible, at last on the fourteenth
of March, 1865, I started for our lines, and I believe I gave you a des-
cription of my journey home, and to make a long story short, an
Irishman’s purgatory has no comparison to a Southern prison.

John S. Kelley

The foregoing letters, which have been made a part of this record, are 
not the only ones that we have read which contain matter of thrilling
interest to Racine people, but they are typical of them all.  The local
newspapers of war times printed almost every week, letters from the
battleground and the prison, and it has been a difficult matter to make
selection for this purpose, but we believe that these we have printed
will prove interesting reading.

PRISONERS

The following are the names of Racine County men who were confined
in Southern prisons during the war.  We are a little uncertain of the
accuracy of this list, for the reason that the records at Madison are in-
complete in this particular, but we have taken much care to avoid errors:

ADAMS, Ammon H
ALDRICH, William
ALLEN, William J
ANDERSON, David W
ANDERSON, James
ANDERSON, John H
ANDERSON, Thomas
BALSEY, Oscar F
BARCHLAY, Marcus
BARROWS, Charles L
BARTER, Albert J
BAUMAN, August
BAUMAN, George
BERCH, Jesse I
BILLINGS, Horatio G
BLOOMER, Henry
BOESLER, Christian
BONES, James R
BONES, James St Martin
BONES, William
BOOHER, William H
BOWEN, John
BRADSHAW, Calvin W
BRADSHAW, William
BRAITHWAIT, Charles B
BRESEE, Hinman
BRITTON, Harvey
BROWN, Ephraim
BROWN, John
BRUSH, Leonard A
BULLAMORE, George
BUMFORD, David
BURT, William
BUTLER, Dennis J
BUTTERFIELD, Albert
CADWELL, Henry M
CAHOON, Corydon A
CAIN, Malon
CARLTON, Brooklin
CAVEN, Nelson
CHAMBERLAIN, Frank
CHAPMAN, Chauncey S
CHASE, Warren D
CHIPMAN, Charles S
CHITTENDEN, John H
CLARK, Daniel P
COCKROFT, William J
COLE, Albert S
COLE, James F W
COOMBS, Gilman M
COOK, Martin
COUSE, Lewis L
CUNNINGHAM, Daniel
CYRUS, Gustavus
DAME, James
DANIEL, Roderick E
DANIELS, Harison
DARLING, Nelson
DAVIS, David H
DAVIS, Edmund C
DAVIS, Edward L
DAVIS, Morris O
DAVIS, Thomas Jones
DAY, George
DEAL, John
DECKER, Henry
DE GARIS, Thomas
DICKINSON, Lewis
DIETRICH, Felix
DOBSON, Richard
DODGE, Augustus L
DOLAN, John
DRAKE, Nelson
DROUGHT, John W
DU FOUR, Hillary
DU FOUR, Peter B
DU FOUR, Peter C
DUNHAM, Matthew L
DUNHAM, Nathan L
EARTHMAN, Albert
EDWARDS, Rowland J
ELKERT, William
ELLIS, Edward
EMERY, Samuel A
EMMERSON, William J
EVRITT, William H
FANCHER, Elias B
FARRER, John
FELCH, Isaac N
FERGUSON, Andrew
FLETCHER, William
FLINT, David
FLINT, Henry
FOAT, Daniel S
FOAT, Charles H
FOAT, Jacob H
FOAT, Samuel
FOAT, William
FOREMAN, John B Sr
FOREMAN, John B Jr
FOSTER, Isaac L
FOUNTAIN, Charles H
FRITZ, Michael
GALLAUGHER, John
GERITZ, William
GERREN, Jeremiah
GIBSON, Frank J
GIBSON, Oscar W
GILLEN, Edward
GINTY, James
GOETZ, John
GOODRICH, Gustavus
GOODWIN, Thomas
GOTTSCHALD, Ernest F
GOULD, Schuyler D
GRAHAM, Francis L
GREGORY, James
GRIEVE, Henry
GRIFFITH, John
GRIFFITH, Owen
GROSS, John
GUILD, Edward
GUTMAN, Carl
HALPIN, Patrick
HAMMANN, Joseph
HAMMOND, Anthony
HANCOCK, Richard
HANSON, Hans
HARKINS, Edward
HARRIS, John W
HATCH, Uriah T
HAWKINS, John M
HAY, John
HAY, Thos. Jr
HAYBURN, Christopher
HEATH, Edward Hagner
HEATH, Justus F
HEMPLE, William F
HENDERSON, John
HENRY, Antle
HERMS, John C
HERRON, Peter
HEYER, Francis
HILTON, Peter W
HOFER, John A
HOLLISTER, Albert H
HOODACHECK, John
HOOVER, Jeremiah
HOPKINS, Christopher P
HOPKINS, Thomas
HORTON, Ezra S
HORTON, Milton
HOWARD, Homer D
HOYT, Charles E
HURLBUT, Charles B
HYLLESTAD, Soren C
INGERSOLL, James N
INGRAM,Charles P
IRWIN, George W
IVERSON, John
ISELIN, Abraham
JACKSON, Alonzo
JACOBSON, Hans
JAMES, John M
JAMES, Morris B
JAQUES, Henry
JAQUES, John J
JAQUES, William
JENNINGS, Wallace H
JOHNSON, John
JOHNSON, Peter
JONES, Edward W
JONES, Evan O
JONES, John R
JONES, Owen R
JONES, Robert B
JONES, Robert E
JONES, Samuel
JONES, Thomas H
JONES, Thomas M
JONES, Warren
JONES, William
JUDSON, Sheldon E
KELLEY, John S
KELLEY, John W
KELLEY, Noyes T
KELLEY, Thomas P
KITTINGER, Franklin
KITTINGER, Isaac
KLEMA, Albert S
KLEINSCHMIDT, John
KNUDSON, Knud
KUNDSON, Peter
KUHN, Ferdinand
LACY, Fred N
LANDGRAFF, Julius
LANE, Theodore
LARSEN, Sven
LAWRENCE, Edward O C
LAWRENCE, Frank P
LEACH, John W
LEACH, Joseph
LEMAHIEU, William
LEWIS, Evan J
LEWIS, James W
LIDEFELD, John
LOCKWOOD, James P
LOSS, Leonard
LUCE, William P
LUNN, John C
LYTLE, Henry
MADAMA, William
MADSON, Peter
MAHAFFEY, Alexander
MALONE, John M
MANCHESTER, T D W
MANDERSON, Samuel
MARTIN, William H
MATHEWS, Benjamin F
MATHIASEN, Paul
MAYO, William
McCURDY, John A
McDONALD, John
McDONALD, Lemuel
McFARLAND, William H
McHURON, George L
McINTOSH, William H
MEAD, Francis R
MEINZER, August
MENGER, Georg
MERRILL, Darwin A
MERRILLS, Obadiah J
MILLER, John M
MINZER, Philip
MOREY, Charles
MOREY, Harrison
MORGAN, John D
MORRIS, David
MORRIS, George S
MORSE, James B
MOSSMAN, William W
MOWRY, William H
MUCKLESTON, Allen J
MUHLEISEN, Wilhelm
MUTH, George
NEAR, Jacob H
NELSON, Frederick
NICHOLS, George C
NIELSEN, Henrich
NIELSON, Lars
NOBES, Samuel J
NORTHROP, Henry W
NORTHUP, Stephen A
NORTHWAY, Clement L
OLSON, Andrew
ORAM, Peter B
ORD, Christopher L
OWENS, Evan O
OWENS, Owen
PAINE, Charles C
PAINE, Stephen L
PATRICK, Charles
PERRIGO, John E
PETERSON, Anton J
PETERSON, Jens J J
PFENNING, Ferdinand
PHELPS, Barton H
PLACE, Luther s
PLAGMAN, John
POWLES, John E
POWLES, William C
PRICE, William
PRITCHARD, Elias J
PUGH, Cadwalader
PUGH, Robert T
REED, James L
REID, Harvey
RIEL, Theodore
ROBERTS, Edward
ROBERTS, Evan G
ROBERTS, Owen H
ROBERTS, Richard G
ROGERS, Henry
ROSIWAL, Joseph
ROWBOTTOM, Abram
ROWLANDS, David
ROWSE, John D
SALVERSON, Peter
SANDON, William
SAWYER, Alonzo
SAWYER, James
SCHADEGG, Louis
SCHELP, Heinrich
SCHENKENBERGER, Jacob
SCHLAGHECK, Henry
SCHMITZ, Nicholas
SCHOFIELD, John R
SCHUPP, Ferdinand
SCUTT, Edwin B
SCOTT, John M
SEARLES, Francis
SEARS, Allen
SEARS, George W
SHAY, Thomas
SHELDON, Oliver H
SHERMAN, Gershom H
SHORT, Richard
SHOLTZ, Frederick
SHUCK, Nicholas
SCHULTZ, Carl
SKEWES, Joseph T
SKINNER, John C
SMALLEY, Herschel V
SMITH, Douglas C
SOULE, Ebenezer
SPADTHOLZ, Henry
SPRIGGS, John W
STENDER, Christian
STEWART, James
ST GEORGE, Thomas
SWEETMAN, Henry
SVOBODA, John
TESSIN, Frederick
TOPOLL, George
TOYNTON, William
THOMPSON, Thomas
TREADWELL, Wesley
TRITZ, Wilhelm
UNDERHILL, Francis E
UPHAM, William H
URBAN, Frederick
UTLEY, William L
VANDEWATER, Lewis H
VAN WAGONER, George N
VORPAGEL, William
WALKER, John D
WALKER, William H
WALLS, Thomas
WARD, William H
WARNER, Daniel B
WEBBER, Charles L
WEBER, Adolph
WELDON, Thomas
WELLS, Frederick E
WENTWORTH, Harmon
WESTCOTT, Lowry
WHITE, Charles I
WIDERKER, Peter
WILLETT, John
WILLIAMS, David
WILLIAMS, Richard A
WILLIAMS, Robert W
WILLIS, Joseph W
WILMS, Peter
WOGENSON, James
WOOD, William
WRIGHT, Joseph D H
YANTZ, Peter
YOUNGS, John C
YOUT, George W