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.

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 give me 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

description 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