A CONFEDERATE PRISONER AT CAMP CHASE
Letters and A Diary of
Private James W. Anderson
by GEORGE
C. OSBORN
Associate Professor of the Social
Sciences, University of Florida
Since this article is drawn almost
wholly from the diary and
letters of Private James W. Anderson,
perhaps a brief sketch of
this Confederate soldier's early life
will not be amiss. James
Anderson was born on a farm in McNary
County, Tennessee, in
1835. He secured what little formal
education he had at the
Farnsworth school, a village school
near which he was reared.
Definitely, his "chance for
schooling away from home" was
quite limited.1
His life as a youngster was brim full
of play and work in a
healthy rural atmosphere. He often rode
a horse from the stable.
amid "stalwart oaks and the
scrubby black jacks," to the trough
in the barnyard that held a pool of
water.2 In the late autumn
or early spring he threw sandy stones
at a robin red breast as it,
by flight, gathered protective
distance, or he heaved a smooth
rock at a cooing turtledove as it
sought safety in some bower,
brown or green with foliage, higher up
in a tree. As a youth he
"walked in manly pride" with
his younger brother and with his
sisters as they "gathered wild
grapes from the tangled vines" or
picked blackberries from the briary
bushes. He looked with
admiration on the "wild rose and
the Lady Slipper as they grew
beside the gentle winding brook that
was fed by the spring." As
1 James W. Anderson to Mrs. John H.
Duke, January 13, 1853. Mrs. Duke
was Anderson's sister. The letter is in
the possession of Clayton Anderson of
Memphis, Tennessee, who is a descendant
of its author. All letters used in this
article are in this collection.
2 James W. Anderson, Diary, December 14,
1864. This diary was written by
Private Anderson while he was a prisoner
of war in Camp Chase and dates from
December 11, 1864, to January 19, 1865.
The original is in the possession of Clayton
Anderson. The writer wishes to express
his appreciation to Mr. Anderson for the
use of this diary and the letters.
38
A Confederate Prisoner at Camp
Chase 39
a lad he joined "the ploughmen and
reapers" as they went and
came "from the green fields or the
fields of golden grain." The
pathway led through an old orchard
where, for a goodly part of
the year, cattle grazed, sheep cropped
short grasses, and hogs
rooted in search of tubers. A dairy
barn and a meat house were
ladened with "precious
burdens." His mother, he later recalled,
"walked amid these scenes with
angelic loveliness to carry for-
ward the stern and firm decree of my
faithful and devoted
father."3
Amidst scenes such as these, young
Anderson grew into
manhood. Over such a peaceful horizon
war clouds appeared in
the late 1850's, and in the spring of
1861 there came the deluge
of fraternal bloodshed. Anderson, now a
young man, married
and the father of two children, was
among those who aided his
native state in living up to its
reputation as the Volunteer State.
While at home on a furlough early in
1864, Private Anderson
was arrested by some Federal troops.
The 8th March 1864 came and with its
varried changes clearly
protraid the life of man. For it is ever
intersperced with clouds and sun-
shine. On the day before, I had felt as
if some unforseen disaster over-
hung my head, and so remarked to an
asociate of mine. And although
such presentiments are considered by
most Persons as a species of
superstition, and while I will agree
that but few persons felt those
impressions and that only occasionally.
Yet I regard the old saying
that "Coming events cast their
Shadows before them" as true. I had
just rode in home to meet booth your
Grand Fathers who were presant
to arrange some business with me, and we
had just had the satisfaction
of taking a dinner quietly together and
were discussing the Condition
of the Country generally and the
probability of the raid that was reported
while the old men smoked- And I looked
and behold I was then-even
then-a Prisoner, for a number of Federal
Soldiers had already arrived,
and as [sic] my Sins against
their government required them that I
should go under guard to their
headquarters.4
The only unpleasant incident in
connection with his arrest,
other than that of leaving his family,
which this soldier could
3 Diary, December 14, 1864.
4 Anderson to William T. Anderson,
December 1, 1864. William T. was the
two-year-old son of James W. Anderson.
40
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
recall a few months later, was that of
a bullying Yankee soldier
who robbed him of his boots from his
feet. And this was forced
upon Anderson in the presence of his
wife.5
During the first evening's march he
covered ten miles. He,
in company with other prisoners of war
and their captors, "en-
camped on the farm of Dr. Jackson near
Mount Pinson." There
he "found under guard my old
neighbors; W. R. Hains, W. J.
Blair, D. W. Suggs, R. B. Hays and J.
L. Graham.... There was
also a young man there under guard with
us named Vales who
was on the morning of March 9th taken
out and ordered to run
and as he ran was shot dead near us.
His offence was that of a
bushwhacker or at least that was the
charge."6
Though Anderson's father was granted an
interview with the
commanding officer and the soldier son
was promised that he
would be released at the first
post--"which would possibly be at
Lexington [Tennessee] or Fort
Henry"--yet this promise was
not fulfilled.7
On the morning of March 10 Anderson
"mounted a poor
old sore back poney" which the
federal troops gave him. Soon
he was riding some distance ahead of
the rest of the group with
the "Captain who commanded the
provost guard." The captain's
name
was Ragan and [he] belonged to the 4th
Tennessee United States Cavalry
and lived near Chattanooga, Tennessee.
We had followed the same
occupation prior to the war and hence
passed the time agreebly. The
chief point of differance about which
we talked was the motives that
prompted each other to become soldiers
in opposing armies, when our
interests were the same. I could not
blame him for any opinions he
entertained for he was rather
compromiseing in his views. But he said
he was fighting only to avenge wrongs done to him
personally and that
he intended to return to his own section and reap his
satisfaction from
those he disliked. From these views I of course
decented and a warm
debate ensued, but we parted friendly
he promising I should not be
sent forward as a prisoner of war.8
5 Ibid.
6 Anderson to W. Thomas Anderson,
December, 1864. W. Thomas was Ander-
son's father. By way of date, many of the letters carry
only the month and year.
7 Ibid.
8 Anderson to W. Thomas Anderson,
December, 1864.
A Confederate Prisoner at Camp
Chase 41
"As the golden rays of the bright
sunshine chased the dark-
ness from the earth," this Rebel
prisoner found himself on the
march again. During the morning they
"rode over the ground
where the battle between the Federal
General [John S.] Logan
and the Rebel General [Nathan B.]
Forrest was fought on 31st
December 1862." At eleven o'clock
at Huntingdon the prisoners
were turned over to a Colonel Hawkins,
"but as we had some
men in our party who were said to be
bad ones, and his Command
was continually moving, he
declined." That night was spent near
Paris, Tennessee, and a memorable one
it was:
This night I can never forget. The
hostage [host] was a man in
good circumstances, and he furnished an
office for the benefit of the
prisoners. It had no chimney so we had
to make our fires in front of
the door on the ground. It was quite
cool. We bought some chickens,
buiscuit and molasses which, with our
coffee, made a good supper. And
then we had the benefit of a good nice
feather bed--a luxury we have
not enjoyed from that day 'till this.
But the point that impressed me
most of this night was that I could so
easily have made my escape and
thereby been free from all the
embarassment, that I have been subject to
since. But it seemed that I was
controlled by some inward irresistable
power that I could not over come. It
seems to me now as I look back
on the half hour that passed there while
I was halting between two
opinions, that the Great Ruler decided
it for me. I think it may be said
of me that I always decide and act
quickly and promptly. But now I
could not move. The guard had lost his
attention of me and I was
under no parole; by steping twenty feet
I would be out of sight, yet I
made the excuse for myself.9
Early on March 12 the prisoners arrived
in Paris, Tennessee,
where they "fed our horses and
rested for some time." That
night camp was made at a Mr. Courts,
"a wealthy man in the
northern part of Clay County."
And when we rode up to this well
provided home to strike our
camp, I could but be impressed with its
beauty and great evidance of
industry that existed on every hand. A
nice residence clad in a snow
white robe stood monarch of the scence
[scene]. And I could well enlarge
and dwell here upon the sacredness of
such a home but such is not my
province. It was enclosed by well laid and finely built
pailing fence and
9 Anderson to W. Thomas Anderson,
December, 1864.
42
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
a nice little gate seemed to invite you
to enter. The farm and lot fences
were built high and strong. The barn
and stables farely groaned beneath
their heavy burdens while 12 or 15 head
of the finest horses and mules
came their to appease their hunger. But
they were to come no more, not
[sic] the scence of long marches, heavy guns and the roar of
cannon
shall be the scenes that greet this
favored lott of valuable stock. When
we left the next morning that stately mansion and
those empty barns with
their surounding shade trees stood like
some edifice that sprung up lost,
in some open desert. Fences all gone
and gates and bars removed to
some far off camp fire.10
On the morning of March 13 Anderson
dismounted and gave
up his horse, saddle, and bridle. When
the prisoners reached the
Tennessee River near the mouth of the
Big Sandy, they were sent
down the Tennessee River to Paducah,
Kentucky, and then up the
Cumberland River to Nashville. On the
night of this day the
prisoners slept in the fortifications
of Fort Henry. "Because of
a scarcity of wood and the damp wind
from the Tennessee River,"
they suffered much from cold. Here the
prisoners remained for a
day until a boat arrived to convey them
to their next destination.
Late that evening we went on board a
boat for our trip. We were
placed back of the engine where there
was no fire and the boat was open
on all sides and the floor damp for the
waves from the river almost
rolled over the bow. As we went on
board two men passed with that
loathsome disease, the Small Pox; and
went aboard ahead of us. They
were stored away near our chilly
quarters enclosed from the bleak winds
only by a temporary tent on board. The
boat moved out and anchored
in the middle of the river while two
gun boats with their port holes
glareing in the rays of the setting sun
like the eyes of some great
monster stood a short distance off.11
The Ides of March 1864 found these
prisoners nearing
Paducah. The next day, March 16, they
disembarked and were
marched to a "very damp and
dark" cellar. Here "about thirty"
of them were crowded in close quarters.
No pure air could enter except such as
could reach us through a
small door that was always filled with
a crowd. I was fortuneate enough
to procure a few dry planks on which to
make my bed thereby having
10 Anderson to W. Thomas Anderson,
December 24, 1864.
11 Anderson to W. Thomas Anderson,
January, 1865.
A Confederate Prisoner at Camp
Chase 43
some protection from the damp floor. It
was quite cold and [there was]
but one very small coal stove at which
we were all to warm and do our
cooking. I was again more fortunate
than some others as I had some
kind friends who came to see me and brought me
something to eat ....
John Duke furnished me [with] 1/p[ai]r
[of] Blankets, 1 good over-
coat, and 1 overshirt and $30 in money.
I then gave my friend D. W.
Suggs my old [overcoat] and thereby we
were all made more comfort-
able.12
March 20 found these captured
Confederates on board the
steamer Satan on their way to
Nashville. The boat
was loaded down to the guard with
comissary stores being sent to the
army at Nashville and its out posts,
which extended as far south as
Chattanooga. It also had on board over
100 head of fine horses for the
same purpose. We marched back between
narrow rows of barrells and
boxes built up to the ceiling above.
When we reached the place on board
where we were to remain for our trip we
found the limited space
allotted already filled with Federal
prisoners to the number of about
100. Among these were Copper Heads,
Deserters, Bounty Jumpers,
Federal Conscripts, (or drafted men)
Thieves and Murderers. I never
before found so motely a crew. They
abounded in filth and dirt and
the vermin it seemed to me would be
enough to devour some of them.
There was one miserable stove to[o]
small to accomodate one fourth
the number. I looked round for some
place to sleep, and when I had
determined the best I could do, I found
it would be on the floor of one
of these narrow pass ways amoung the mud
from the feet and the off
bundles of hay that fed the horses at
whose very heels almost we must
stay .... Our trip from Fort Henry had
already been longer than
expected so the rations furnished us for
the trip had about disappeared.
We got about 3/4 of a pound of
bacon each and some "hard tack." With
the amount of the latter we managed to
get from the boxes under us
and some we bought, we lived till we got
to Nashville.13
They landed at Nashville the following
morning. While
disembarking,
a little fellow who was captured at
Paris, Tennessee: named [Thomas]
Orr forgot his blanket and turned back
to get it without permission
from the guard, who hapened to be a
bulling rough fellow and smartly
drinking and with out authority struck
Orr a severe blow over the head,
with his gun, from which he bled
profusely. It was the first cruel treat-
ment I had ever seen at [the] hands of
the guard. And I was the more
12 Anderson
to W. Thomas Anderson, January, 1865.
13 Anderson to W. Thomas Anderson,
January, 1865.
44 Ohio State Archaeological
and Historical Quarterly
pained to see that so quiet a fellow as
little Orr should be the subject
of it.14
At Nashville they were marched to the
state capitol "and led
into the galleries." After this
visit they were marched to the
Tennessee penitentiary, where for the
time being they remained
prisoners.
When we were in prison we found it
necessary to form our ac-
quaintance in a sort of company to
protect ourselves against the inmates
who often mugged new comers. The filth,
dirt, and vermin with which
this place abounded is more than I will
attempt to describe, simply
because I could not do it justice.
Twice on each day we were formed
in a line and marched past two guards
and by a table behind which
stood a big darkie who handed us a
handfull of dry crackers; further
on another with dirty hands handed [us]
a peice of fat pork or beef.
Then, if we had a cup we could get a
cup of weak coffee. Short as our
rations had been for some days with
this meager allowance we neces-
sarially suffered of hunger. When night
came we were crowded into
the main building for the night. Our
squad was sent around on one of
the wings of the penitentiary proper
and forced to lie down on the brick
floor covered 1 inch or more deep in
sawdust, which was almost alive
with lice. The convicts, who had to be
locked in cells, were so near us
and kept so much noise trying to keep
themselves warm and calling for
the Turn Key, we could not
sleep, tired as we was. And then it was
absolutely necessary for us to keep at
least one of the party awake as
a picket for fear of a charge on our
blankets.15
Fortunately they were forced "to
make but a short stay in
this miserable place." On March
23, "before the sun was up,"
these prisoners were ordered in line
and "marched to the depot
of the Louisville and Nashville
Railroad." As they "passed out
of the prison gate we had a piece of
bread and meat handed us
which was to serve as our rations for
the day." Before midnight
they reached Louisville, Kentucky, and
went immediately to the
prison, which was located near the
depot. Each prisoner was given
a piece of bread and a slice of meat
for his supper. Although
Anderson confessed that he had seen the
time when he would
have given his rations "to a dog
and hardly thought it good enough
for him yet I devoured it with an
avidity that astonished me."16
14 Ibid.
15 Anderson to W. Thomas Anderson, January, 1865.
16 Ibid.
A Confederate Prisoner at Camp
Chase 45
The Louisville military prison was
"situated on a lot of
ground that formally belonged to the
Rebel General Simon B.
Buckner."
On the right and left of the inner
entrance was the offices of the
Provost and Sarg[ean]t. On the right of
the inside the entire 150 feet
was barrack. On the left it extended but
70 feet in barrack and the
remainder was a dining room. Into which
we march[ed] three times
each day, and stood by high tables with
neither plate, nor knife and
fork. At appropriate distances was laid
on the bare table a peice of
bakers bread, a peice of fat mess pork
or beef on it. For breakfast and
supper we had, in addition, old oyster
cans full of hot coffee. At dinner
these contained bean soup, or something
of that nature. But we suffered
most here from the smoke of the chimneys
in which stone coal was
burned nearby and which came over the
walls in such quantities as to
almost stiffle those not accustomed to
it.17
On the night of April 3 this tired group
of southern prisoners
arrived at Camp Chase. Now that others
had been added, there
were about one hundred of them. From
where the train stopped,
Anderson wrote, he walked one mile
"through the middle of the
muddiest road I ever saw to the pike
which leads to the prison."
His entrance into Camp Chase he
carefully recorded:
We were formed in a line in front of the
headquarters of the
Commandants and notified to give up all
valuables and monies in our
possession. I had ten dollars of the
money I got from Mr. [John H.]
Duke at Paducah which for safe keeping I
had conceiled all and carried
it into prison with me but as I knew I
would get a receipt, on which I
could draw as I was in need, I prefered
to give it up. So on the next
day we got a receipt and my cravat was
safely returned. We were then
marched to the front of the prison
office to be searched. It was really
amusing to see the prisoners working to
smuggle in money, and other
things such as pocket knives, etc. which
were reported contraband but
were not. We passed in five or six at a
time and were examined closely
in general. I was proud however that I
was not subject to so close an
inspection as most of those who seemed
to murmur at this as a hardship,
while common sense ought to have taught
them that it was but reasonable
to expect [it] under the
circumstances.18
17 Anderson to W. Thomas Anderson,
January, 1865.
18 Anderson to W. Thomas Anderson,
January, 1865.
46
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
The federal prison camp which was to
house Private Ander-
son was located some two miles west of
Columbus, Ohio. It had
a high board fence around the cabins,
but unlike the Louisville
military prison there were no brick
walks within. The peculiar
soil in rainy weather became
"worked up in beds and hog wallers
of murkey stickey mud. There was not
even a board walk of any
description; the earth was like a hog
pen." To Anderson the high,
whitewashed walls, the gloomy, low, and
dirty cabins, most of
which were deserted when this group of
Confederate prisoners
arrived, and "the faint glimmer of
the lamps presented a scene"
quite gloomy.
We bogged round in the damp cold night
and got up an old
rickety stove, and some old rusty,
dirty, greesy, cooking vessells and
by two o'clock in the night had some
fire going to warm by. We had
had nothing to eat all day and I for one
wanted none. I rolled myself
in my shawl and stretched my weary bones
out on the cleanest bunk I
could see and slept untill morning. I
awoke early, feeling better, arose,
got some water and washed, but I was so
miserably filthy and dirty
haveing worn one suit all this time
without washing that it almost made
me sick. I looked round and talked with
some of the old Prisoners. I
found we were in prison no. 3. It was an
enclosure of about four acres
and contained 69 mess rooms which, with
a forced effort, could be made
to bunk 20 men. We formed a mess by
order of the Provost, and was
put in the next highest number to those
filled which was no. 37. I don't
think a much ruffer set of fellows could
be found than this was, but I
there met my old friend and fellow
prisoner Thomas A. Catlett of New
Liberty K[entuck]y who, unlike too many
of our number, has proved
by over nine months of severe test to be
a gentleman in the strictest
sense of the term. The first thing he
did was to call us all out, give us a
blanket each, and to those who had not:
a change of under clothing
and clean shirts. Then the efficeint and
worthy Provost Marshall Lieu-
tenant, S. L. Hammon of [the] 7th
Volunteer Regular Cavalry ordered
"That every man should wash and
clean himself up properly." Soap in
abundance having been furnished with our
rations. A good order it was
which I had as far as posible already
obeyed. Next morning roll was
called and the Lieutenant looked at us,
and said he, "Look here you man"
in his peculiar Yankee style. "I
say," and all eyes were turned up,
"Come forward you, you dirty
fellow." It was no mistake; he meant
him and the fellow who he meant steped
out the line. The gate opened
[and] in came a heavy serg[ean]t.
"This way sir we have a place for
A Confederate Prisoner at Camp
Chase 47
you here." He led him to a little
house built of heavy plank with heavy
rise and full doors and big bolts and
locks and little cramped up cells,
and stuck him in. "There now,"
Said the Lieutenant from the parapet,
"let him stay all day without
anything to eat. He's to[o] lazy to live."
He disobeyed the order to wash and clean
himself up after he had ample
opportunity. It was not my misfortune to
have to stay long in this
miserable dirty squad. My old friend
Catlett found a mess room on
the citizen row. A smaller and nicer
concern than the rest and we got
permit to form a mess of six-who
consisted of C. N. Perkins, Fayette-
ville, Arkansas R. B. Hays & J. H.
Graham of Jackson Tennessee, Catlett
& myself to[o] first. Afterwards we
got with us W. V. Metcalf of
Montgomery Alabama with whom I have
slept all the time. We lived
quiet and peaceably together.19
For almost three weeks these six
enjoyed their little mess
together. Then came an order to move
elsewhere, as that house
"was wanted for some other
purpose." This command caused
these prisoners to grieve, since they
"were comparatively quite
comfortable." An appeal was made
to Lieutenant S. L. Hammon,
who at that time was one of the chief
officers of the camp. Ulti-
mately he agreed for them "to go
in cabin number 60, the highest
and most private of all the shanties in
which soldiers were allowed
to go."
This building was near the wall and we
had to give a parole that
we would not ground hog, out. We were
glad to accept this as we
would be much better situated. After a
few days stay here we took in
with us as mess mates [E. D.] Frost,
Superintendent [of the] Mississippi
Central Rail Road, D. H. Otto, & James
Compton, Canton, Mississippi
making nine of us where there was room
for twenty. We had quite a
nice time. We drew our rations from the
head commissary which
[rations] consisted of fresh beef, corn
beef, salt pork, bacon, flour,
light bread, sugar, coffee, tea, pepper,
salt, vineger, etc., etc. all in the
greatest abundance. Occasionaly, Colonel
Frost would get from his
people a box of choice provisions. So
all together we lived too well
for prisoners. Indeed, we could scarcely
realize that we were in prison
at [all]. How strangely those times
contrast with the one in which I
now live. We spent our time in reading,
writing, and gameing all in a
quiet nice way. While here I received
many letters, some from home
and only at such times that I could
realize that I was shut up and
could not go forth. Sometimes, we would
climb an appeture [aperture]
19 Ibid.
48
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
in the attic and look out on the green
budding trees and the opening
spring, for it was the bright sunny May
of the year. The winter winds
and the April showers had ceased, and
the fragrant rose and the wood-
land honeysuckle bloomed in many a
peacefull home beneath many a
cottage window and many retireing dells,
but from none of these refresh-
ing scenes of nature came to the weary
prisoner one single draught.
Many became weary, yea restless, and
determined to escape. Two or
three differant squads started tunnels
from under their shantys (and
from the pits usually built near the
wall) and although they often
promised success, yet some poor miserable
rech who hoped to gain
favor from the authorities would
"blow it" and all would be discov-
ered. On one night a squad of forty or
fifty fixed to charge the guard
and escape, but when the slightest
demonstration was made shots were
fired and soon the whole Federal Guard
was on the look out. One
prisoner was severely wounded in the
thigh. And many others lost all
their greenbacks and fine cloths.20
Not until after Anderson had been
confined in Camp Chase
for more than nine months was it that
he secured a ledger and
concluded to begin a diary. In the
opening paragraph of this
journal he summarized his activities
from April 3 to December
11, 1864:
I have worn myself out at all the
various trades that I can find in
Prison. For a few weeks I tried
lounging, then I got a Testament and
gave it some attention. I then tried my
hand at making Pipes, Rings,
etc. at which I succeeded but poorly,
Cheifly because I have no mechan-
ical talent. I have during the Summer Spent
much time in reading
Novels and light works of various kinds.
He confessed that he had never
attempted a diary before
and despaired of ever finding enough
material within the confines
of that Yankee prison to "fill
half the pages of the book." His
daily entries in the diary lasted
approximately five weeks-from
December 11 to January 19--and when
typed years later
amounted to fifty-five pages. Numerous
topics were discussed in
this journal. Some of the more
important of these matters, such
as the food, the climate, conditions of
camp life, his comrades
and his quarters, will be treated in
this article with excerpts from
Anderson's diary.
20 Anderson to W. Thomas Anderson,
January, 1865.
A Confederate Prisoner at Camp
Chase 49
Almost daily this Confederate private
confided to his diary
facts about his diet. At one time his
fare consisted of one-third
of a pound of light bread, four ounces
of beef, beans, and soup.
This meal was prepared by the soldiers
themselves and "quite as
nice as if by the hands of some
cherished female friend at home."
Though this was no feast, it was enough
to cultivate a good
appetite. If they had had more food,
they probably would have
eaten too much, and living in idleness,
as they were, such eating
possibly would "breed
diseases."21
On another day the prison cook
announced a dinner which
consisted of "roast beef, light
bread, and two rations of irish
potatoes." During his imprisonment
Anderson learned to eat Irish
potatoes and onions, "boiled or
fried," just as he had "learned
to make letters with my pen at
Farnsworths old school house."
When dinner was over this soldier
agreed with the cook that they
had "had a very good
dinner."22
December 15, doubtless, was a day long
remembered by this
Tennessean in that he saw a rat cooked
for the first time in his
life. For breakfast the prisoners were
served light beef hash and
a small piece of bread. With his share
of this food Anderson
had some tea which he had purchased.
Dinner consisted of two
ounces of boiled hominy with no grease,
three ounces of poor
hashed beef, and five ounces of light
bread. Anderson made cush
out of his: "I made cush out of
mine I.E. Mixed all together
a[nd] wet it and cooked it over in a
tin plate and I think it goes
further that way, fills up better, when
you have not got enough.--
Today, I saw my first Rat cooked. Those
who eat of it say it was
very good. I am not quit[e] that far
gone yet as to yeild my
prejudice to the dirty things."
Shortly before Christmas Day this
inmate of Camp Chase
recorded with evident rejoicing that
the agents for the distribution of
Confederate Supplies have been per-
mited to visit the other Prisons to day,
the first time. At Presant their
Parole extends to the limits of the outer fence. They
got permission yes-
terday for the Sutter to sell us Pepper, so our hash is
to be Seasoned a
21
December 12, 1864.
22 December 13, 1864.
50
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
little--we eat it all anyway; what's
lift [left] on My plate would starve
a Snow bird. A Cat tried it in here, but
he passed away of Starvation.
We are to have Molasses Christmas and it
[is] nearly here. Ah, a Sweet
tooth once more; did I ever hear the
like.23
If the prisoners enjoyed any kind of
yuletide feast, Ander-
son did not confide it to his diary. On
the day after Christmas,
however, he was complaining of being
hungry. In Camp Chase,
he wrote, "a man's belly is his
God." But on December 27 he
was even more pronounced: "I think
if I had a rat well served
up I would try him tonight. But if any
body should ever read
these Notes they will worry over My
complaints of hunger, and,
for all I speak, often yet I do Not
tell half the suffering I see,
1/2# of Bread will bring one Quarter dollar readily &
4 oz Green
Beef hash as Much."
Near the end of Anderson's imprisonment
his diary reveals
two further brief statements about the
prison food. He was "in
better spirits" than he had
"been in three months," because he had
purchased some rations from a messmate,
which when added to
his own food was enough to satisfy his
hunger. What he left
uneaten, however, would not have fed
"a mouse once."24 Bread
was selling in the prison for "six
dollars per loaf in greenback"
and a "loaf weighed four
pounds."25
Since Anderson's diary was written in
midwinter by a south-
erner, he naturally perhaps wrote of the
northern weather and
its effects on the prisoners. On
December 11, 1864, the weather
was quite cold. Snow had fallen recently
and covered the ground
"two or three inches in depth with
plenty of ice in the prison."
It was "hard on the prisoners who
were born and raised in South-
ern lands." The diarist had not
suffered, because he had
"plenty of clothes and a fair
share of blankets and comfortable
quarters."
Two days later Anderson lamented:
Another day has come and still we have a
frozen Earth, which
seems the more chilled as She stands
wraped in her bleached white
23 December 22, 1864.
24 January 12, 1865.
25 January 18, 1865.
26 December 17, 1864.
A Confederate Prisoner at Camp
Chase 51
winding sheet. I do not remember to
have Seen a Snow remain so long
without melting more than this one has,
but I must not forget that I [am]
Many degrees further North than I ever
was at this season [of] the year.
Let me see, I was born and raised in
about 35 degrees North Latitude
and this is 40 degrees, So I perceive
that 5 degrees makes a vast differ-
ence in the Winter.
On December 14 the mercury rose in the
thermometer. The
earth's bleak white sheet receded
before the golden rays of the
sunshine that beamed from a clear blue
sky. "How cheering the
bright Sun as he Sheds his luster upon
these gloomy windows!"
The day following was "dark and gloomy"
with heavy clouds
hanging low in the sky. A light mist of
rain and sleet fell and
made "a sheet of ice on the entire
visible surface of the earth."
Rain continued for two more days, then
the weather turned quite
warm. "The prison walls have
become thawed through and our
Prison Walks resemble a hog pen more
than the abode of 200 well
raised and educated men."26 The
mud was "the meanest, blackest,
slickest, stickyest that ever was
made.27
Amid dark and lowering clouds with rays
of sunshine some-
times penetrating through, Anderson
wrote on December 20:
Day after day Snow, Rain, Sleet, and
Mud has greeted us on every
hand untill for the want of exercise
both mind and body has become
stall and Stupid. Still today, as we
may expect in all the dark hours
through life, we have a lovely
sunshine; its bright and golden rays
seem made to disperse every gloom and
Chace every Sadness from our
heart. Nor does the Chronicle of the
weather contrast unfavorably
with our Bodily welfare, and Suffering
For amid the short rations and
empty stomachs where Clothing is Scarce
and feet are cold for want of
Blankets, and poverty and rags stare us
in the face we turn about and
in comes the ray of Some gentle beaming
Star & it disperses the gloom
that over hangs this department of our
existence.
December 21 opened with a snowstorm and
ended the same
way. Before nightfall the snow was four
or five inches deep on the
ground. Once or twice the sun
"tore its way through the clouds
and dispersed for a time the gloom that
overhangs such days."
This Tennessean declared that December
23 was the coldest day
that he had ever experienced. Although
he anticipated suffering
27 December 19, 1864.
52
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
from the severe cold, he would endure
it as others near him were
also in much discomfort.
On Christmas Day, which came on Sunday,
early visible
clouds vanished and the sun rose
bright. A clear sky in mid after-
noon began to give way to cloudiness,
and the day ended with a
sprinkle of rain. Evidently inclement
weather continued, as evi-
denced by the diary entry of December
27: "Today has been warm
and Cloudy with appearance of rain.
About 11 o'clock A. M. [the]
sun Shone out a few Minutes, Clouds
[were] generally close and
heavy. Since dark, light rain [has
fallen]-- Our Prison is cer-
tainly the muddiest place in creation;
the ground thawed through
and there is hardly a foot in the pen
where you will not go over
shoe mouth."
The sun shone intermittently during the
next few days.
Clouds appeared, rains fell, snow came,
wind blew, and the
temperature dropped. Then a wind from
the south warmed the
environs of Camp Chase but only for a
day. Snow fell again on
the night of December 30, and the New
Year, 1865, began "very
cold and clear." Anderson wrote on
January 2 that the day was
"bright and sunshiny," and
continued: "The snow that covers the
earth is giving way before his golden
rays like the morning dew.
It's quite cold and little clouds would
soon restore the rocks of
frozen earth to the surface. Such days
as this increases our desires
to be free again and enjoy the open
air."
Only a few days more remained of this
soldier's captivity,
but he continued to include a brief
description of the weather in
his diary. Wednesday, January 3,
revealed changeable weather.
Morning cloudiness gave way to midday
clearness, which as night
approached was replaced by low-hung
clouds. There was much
snow on the ground with every
indication of "more soon."
These forecasts of early snows were
apparently amiss, be-
cause the next two days were
"clear and warm" with the sun melt-
ing much of the snow already on the
ground. It was not until
January 6 that there was a real change.
"Heavy snow fell all day
and I don't think I ever spent a more
gloomy day." During the
night "a heavy snow fell. It was a
regular snow storm. Today
A Confederate Prisoner at Camp
Chase 53
great festoons of ice and snow overhang
the eves like crags of
rocks on the distant mountain in Mid
Winter. Our prison is full
of drifts from two to four feet deep.
Such sights as these I have
never before seen."
Not for three days did Anderson mention
the weather again.
On January 10 he wrote: "This is a
real winter day such as may
be found in Northern Countries. It
began in the night past to rain.
Morning came it still continued. The
surface of the Earth was a
sheet of ice. And all day it has been
rain, sleet and snow. At this
writing it is a perfect snow
storm." This southern soldier dis-
liked the enduring snows of Ohio and
wrote with disgust: "[I
have] not been out of sight of snow for
several weeks."28
How did such inclement weather affect
the prisoners in
Camp Chase? So far as Private Anderson
and his comrades were
concerned, his diary reveals some
interesting information. Ander-
son secured an upper bunk after his
arrival in this northern prison
camp. In cold weather a bunk near the
ceiling was preferable
for many reasons. "First, its
warmer because as science teaches
heated air rises. So when the stove
below gets warm we who bunk
near the roof keep very comfortable.
Second, Having to climb
seven or eight feet lazzy fellows
rarely ever have energy to climb
so high to lounge, hence we can keep
our blankets cleaner, and
third, its more private and not so much
crowded."29
Perched high on his bunk a few feet
beneath the ceiling,
Anderson penned in his diary a lengthy
description of his quar-
ters:
Our room is about 24 feet Square, Our
bunks occupy 7 feet on one
side of the room. The Stove [is] in the
Middle of the House and our
Shelves and Tables [are] next [to] the
wall all around. Each Man
has his chair, Stool or Box to sit on.
And when we give our Stock of
Wood room inside (which we have to do or have it
stolen) we are just
about as thick as we can be to
"Stir with a Stick." Every Man is always
in somebody's way. And our different
dispositions is as different as
our phases. We get on with very little
quarreling which seems almost
a wonder of itself. I rather conclude,
that Men are like so Many Mules,
28 January 14, 1865.
29 December 13, 1864.
54
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
that to treat them like Mules and they
act that way. If you want mules
to fight put a few in the Stable together, but if you
want peace Crowd in
as long and [sic] it will hold
and they can't or don't fight- So it is
I think with this Many Men.30
There were nineteen men in Anderson's
mess. The identity
of only a few of these prisoners of war
has been preserved in
this diary. The oldest comrade,
"that old man whose face bears
so many furrows" but who had
"as yet few gray hairs," was
Judge Jonathan Huddleston of West
Virginia. "His ups and
Downs" would have provided food
for Anderson's pen for several
hours, but he was over sixty years of
age and deserved to dwell
"in peace and enjoy all the
comforts and conveniences which he
could fix up for himself. If he smokes
or chews let him spit where
he may."
Yet another man past three score years
was a member of
this group. He was formerly a chancery
judge in Tennessee and
"a man of much dignity and
taste." Now his "heavy locks and
frosted beard and wrinkled brow"
were mute evidences of "the
bitter waters that flow in thy
path."
"Again, the ruthless hand of war,
sends from their quiet
country home far, far away in the State
of Mississippi, two
brothers who humbly try to preach God's
great goodness to a
dying world. And now I see them leaning
implicitly on His
Providence for deliverance from this
gloomy abode."31
With two exceptions, none of Anderson's
comrades were re-
leased before he was. On January 13
this diary records the dis-
missal of the aging Judge Huddleston.
Anderson delighted in the
freedom of his comrade from West
Virginia because of "his
extreme age and infirmity" and the
fact that he had been in prison
"more than 14 months." Three
days later there occurred the
quite unexpected release of Anderson's
"fellow prisoner and mess
mate Colonel E. C. Frost of Canton,
Mississippi. He has been
superintendent of the Mississippi
Valley Railroad and was my
constant companion day and night since
last May." In the absence
30 Ibid.
31 Ibid. They are revealed elsewhere in Anderson's diary as the
Rev. John E.
Pearson and the Rev. J. M. Pearson.
A Confederate Prisoner at Camp
Chase 55
of all hope his health gave way, and
when he was ordered out he
could scarcely rise to walk. "I
rejoice to know that he has got
his liberty although I miss him very
much."32
The diary contains a brief description
of the prison in which
Anderson was confined during the latter
part of his imprisonment:
This prison No. 1 is one of the first
made after the War began
and at first contained about one Acre.
It [is] Now enlarged to one
and one half acres and contains two
Barracks with five mess rooms each.
It will hold Six more [barracks] of the
same size, and will then house
600 prisoners comfortably. Prison no. 2
adjoins it on the South and
contains 18 Barracks 24 X 100 feet and
Made to hold from two [to]
three hundred Men each, who at that rate
would be very much crowded.
It was built the 2nd year of the War,
and formerly contained the
Hospitals Now removed out side the inner
Wall. Prison no. 3, as it
now stands, is entirely New and Joins
no. 2 on the South. It is said
to be very nicely laid out and Kept. It
contains between [sic] 18
buildings like those in no. 2 and is an
enclosure of about 7 acres. The
Parapet is about 18 feet high around all
and Sentinals walk on the
top at distance[s] from one another of
40 yards with but one opening
besides the office door to each one.
Prison No. one contains one hundred and
Ninety Men; No. 2
about fifteen hundred and Prison 3
between thirty eight and forty
[hundred?]. I would be safe in Saying
that there is Now Six[ty?]
hundred men Confined here. [Anderson
later added with pencil that the
"true figure is 5,482."]
The Water is supplied from wells. It is
Smartly impregnated with
lime stone though quite Cold and clear.
It is found from 15 to 20 feet
from the surfice. Prison No. 2 had [sic]
a large reservior that Contains
several hundred gallons which is filled
each day and loosed to carry
away the filth that accumulates in a
deep planked ditch thereby Keeping
all things quite clean. The Hospitals
are opposite the gate of No. 3 on
the west side. It is [sic] well
supplied-and attended by Men Paroled
for that purpose.33
During most of the months in Camp Chase
this Tennessee
Confederate soldier was in fairly good health.
On occasion, how-
ever, he complained of illness, as on
December 16: "I am quite
unwell with a cold, rather hoarse and
sore throat--was greatly
32 January 16, 1865.
33 December 15, 1864.
56
Ohio State Archaeological and Historical Quarterly
benefited last night by pinning my sock
around my neck." But
the next day his room was "lit up
nicely and how much more
cheerful all seemed."
Repeatedly the diary reveals the
ravages of smallpox. The
air was "perfectly impregnated
with small pox." One case de-
veloped within four feet of Anderson's
bed, hut he escaped.34
On January 4 this soldier was ill
again:
I suffered all night nearly with cold,
and yet I could not tell why
for I had my usual Am[oun]t of blankets
and the night was not as Cold
as Some others have been when I was
quite comfortable. Today I am
nearly sick. [I have] a severe pain in
My Stomach and a bad head ache.
How gloomy such feelings Makes us. We
begin to think about being
sick and having to go to the Hospital,
and what is worse we Never Know
at what time the Small Pox is [likely]
to lay hold of us and Carry us
to our long home by way of the pest
house. But I have been so Much
exposed to it in the last 10 mo[nths]
that I have learned to think I am
not subject to it. Let come what May I
will try to be ready to meet it.
"Every Prisoner," wrote
Anderson, "was issued one blanket,
one changing of under clothing and one
suit of common grey pants
and coat." They were allowed to
buy from the prison supply
room "stamps, writing materials,
tobacco, cigars, pipes, combs,
hair brushes, tooth brushes, clothes
brushes, scissors, thread,
needles, handkerchiefs, towels, soap,
pocket looking glasses and
matches." On December 17
newspapers and candles were added
to the list of things which could be
purchased.35
As early as December 16 Anderson's
diary reveals that he
had information to the effect that an
uncle, James M. Anderson of
Glasgow, Kentucky, had recently
returned from Washington
"whither he has been to procure
the release of some prisoners."
He requested his nephew who was the
author of this journal "to
secure the proper papers of his
case." A statement of this pris-
oner's arrest and imprisonment was
forwarded to Anderson in
Kentucky, but the inmate of Camp Chase
dared not hope for
immediate release, because
"matters are so uncertain."
34 December 21, 1864.
35 December 17, 1864. The soldiers could
write two letters per week of one
page each. These were to be written on
Wednesday or Saturday.
A Confederate Prisoner at Camp
Chase 57
The diary reveals numerous thoughts of
Anderson's im-
mediate family, his relatives and his
friends, and his great desire
to be returned to them. On December 23
the entry reads in part:
What can I say to my dear wife to keep
up her spirits. I can not
flatter her again of my chances to get
home, she has already been de-
ceived too often on that point. I must
not tell her how little I get to
eat nor how cold I am for that would
give her Anxiety for me that she
could not better. So I will let these
points pass without notice and boast
of my good health for it is true that
God does bless me in it.
On January 11 a letter from his uncle
informed Private
Anderson that he would "be
released next week." The prisoner
regarded the news as correct. That
which seemed "but as an acci-
dent is to be the cause of my
liberation. So it was in my cap-
ture."36 Soon the monotonous
scenes which he had experienced
would be "erased from the tablet
of memory. The jar and
wrangle of discontented men,"
Anderson hoped, would "give way
to the Society of my dear and quiet
little family. The entire
absence of all interest in worldly
affairs will be replaced by more
active scenes of grasping men. And I
hope that the time is near
when Short and meager diet will give
way to abundance and
plenty."37
The last entry in the diary, on January
19, ended thus:
I can neither read, write, nor work;
for the former it is too dark
up here and the Stove is so crowded
that we can hardly sit there at best.
If Mr. J[ame]s M. Anderson was
successfull in getting my release it
ought to reach here tomorrow or at all
events the next day. So, I end
My pilgrimage in these parts and go to [the] field of
a fairer clime.
36 January 11, 1865.
37 January 18, 1865.