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10 There is always an element of sadness noticeable In every gathering of old sol diers, and especially in this late day when the ranks are so greatly depleted. Every year the procession on Memorial day grows smaller because so many of the veterans have answered the last roll call and have passed to the reward of those who bravely and heroically de fended their country and their homes. Even those who are permitted to remain on earth and pay honor to their dead comrades walk with a slower and feebler step than they did when, nearly half a century ago, they carried arms and freedom into the South. At a meeting, such as the annual reunion of the ex-prisoners of war, which will be held In Minneapolis next Wednes day, the element of pathos is greater even than it is at the usual meetings of the old veterans, for the ranks of the ex-prisoners have suffered a greater proportionate reduction than the other branches of the old soldiers' associations. Many of the men were wounded or ill when captured, and if' they were able to withstand the rigorous life in a rebel liri-'un. 0... v ], ft Tl'itJ'. lioolth «r, srreatlv shattered that they were not able to sur vive forty years of life. Many of those who were in good physical condition when captured left the prison in a broken down state of health and have succumbed to their ills years ago. Those who have survived are few, and the or dinary ravages of time and disease an constantly removing them to another land. 7 [■■': The Minnesota Association of Union EirPrisohers of War Is the only organi zation of its kind in the state, and Is a branch of the national organization which has societies in almost every state In the Union. Tt was organized many years ago for the purpose of forming a means by which the old soldiers who by _____Hf '9| i \\v=ftV _B '% '__________8 : \\!m\Y :^iS£'SW^-^M'^^' ' s*?^^S_^Hi • aM CAPT. C. W. FISHEE, had suffered together in prisons and be* cause of that suffering and affliction wore bound more closely than are those who fought side by side? might have a formal tie which should keep them as sociated In the after years of their lives. The present association numbers about 325 men, scattered all over the state. Maj. George N. Lamphere, secretary of the soldiers' home board, is the com mander, and Capt. Charles W. Fisher, cf the adjutant general's office, is ad jutant and quartermaster. Twenty-Four in St. Paul. The association has twenty-four mem bers in St. Paul. Many of these men are among the most prominent citizens of tin- city, but all of them are entitled to honor and recognition by the people. j: ./ cpoocO<aooooc<toooc>ooo(?o^oxx^ *,*■. '• -"/ r> lwSs» l ','.J *J ij si l^^^i^^^^^^^^sf )\ •sv *H lilr^^^^* W*^^ 9" I.'*" .' ._?• Bi'/-v.'-;;;v-.^&^ 8 //*: ■ I / ; UP-* • •*»'•'• .•". .. ' .*.*.'. \* ','.'; .... «•;«« ■"■■»■' ..... ■••"'•v.-A if for no other reason, simply because they ire members of an association which testifies that they have been confined In a Conferedate prison. Some of these men have Interesting ex periences to tell of the times when they were prisoners, while the experiences of many Of Hum are similar to the usual story of all men who have been so un fortunate ad to have been captured by the rebels. All of them suffered in an untold degree and their observation on prison life is but the retelling of the stories printed in any history of Antter- Bonville, Libby or any of tho Southern prisons. " Frank B. Doran, formerly mayor of St. I Paul.-has the distinction, it it may be j called a distinction, of " having been a' prisoner of war longer than any man in j the United Stales. . went? «_. months is St. PaUI Men Who Suffered fn Rebel Prisons. '*• - "-7 '". ' ■."'.ry:: ■"'•-■•. .-•-.«--^.-^h"|l '■'■'>,___ ;.V_i- ... X:'-.";" '-;.. • Vi;*/;-^ ".;'-• •_.--■• "• I _£r a long time for a man to be confined and especially in a prison where me men were denied even the necessities of. life. Mr. Doran enlisted at the breaking out of the war, but shortly after going to the South was stricken with pneumonia and for several \ days was at the point of death. In 1862 he was discharged be cause the surgeons believed lids lungs to be diseased and that he i was unfit for military service. It was with sorrow that Mr. Doran received his discharge for he was anxious to take part in the great struggle which was going on. He re alized that the fight was to be a great one, and was to settle forever a mighty problem, and the same patriotic spirit that led him to enlist also caused him to desire to continue in the conflict until it was definitely settled. But the decision of the regimental surgeon was final and he accepted his discharge in as good grace as it was possible for him to command. When he received his discharge he did not go North, however, as it happened that his brother was ill near Oxford, Miss., and he secured permission to go and nurse him. Before the brother be came sufficiently convalescent to be re moved, the maneuvers of the rebel army compelled a change in the position of the Union forces and Mr. Doran was left with his brother a.id another soldier who was also on the sick list. The next day tne rebel* were on the ground and the men were captured. The soldier and the sick man were left where tney were found, but Mr. Doran was sent to Jack son, where he was confined in the prison. Escaped and AVris ilecnptnred. He remained in Jackson about, six weeks and then a favorable opportunity to escape presented : itself and he left the rebel prison. He started out into the wildernesss, heading toward the South. hoping to reach the Union forces sta- tioned on the gulf. Fcr several days he wandered on, dodging the habitations of man as much as posssible in a vain en deavor to reach the friendly forces which he knew were on the gulf. After weeks of hiding and skulking he reached i.ie gulf, only to meet a rebel guard and j once mere to be captured. Perhaps the most bitter part of his experience while trying to escape was to learn that while he was wandering around In the swamps and timber south of Jaclison that the prisoners who were confined, in prison at that place had been exchanged and permitted to . return to their homes in the North. The fact that he had missed this opportunity while try ing to effect his own escape proved a bitter pang to him when he was recap- DAVID KEIBS. tured and confined in the military prison in Mobile, Ala. He was kept in Mobile but one month, and in company with a group of Rebel deserters was sent north to Richmond, Va. When they reached the Rebel capital he was not confined in, the regular "war prison, but was left at Castle Thunder. He remained there for over four months trying vainly to obtain his freedom, as ho was" not a military man, but a civ ilian. He exerted every influence he could command to aid in securing his release, but all to no avail. Then hs learned that he was held because he was suspected or being a spy. When this fact was mads known to him he realized that it was a hopeless task to secure a release, and that he must either escape or abide the pleasure of the Confederate government He was removed to L_hy prlsaftlaad THE ST. PAUL GLOBS, SUNDAY, MARCH 2, 1902. J^)l V 'msw f§ ' flfss-___ ":^ mtm ik" A:#i i^M XV **2_ $_&& _ ■ . -"* *"- j-^ _&"'^s_' confined there for three and a half months and then taken to Salisbury, N. C. He remained in the Salisbury prison just one year, when he was removed to Wilmington. He was confined in the pris on at Wilmington, when Gen. Butler at tacked the Rebels at Fort Fisher. While the fort was nearly twenty miles from the prison, yet the sound of the cannon ading could plainly be heard, and the scow-load of gunpowder which was ex ploded near the shore shook the walls of the building used for confining pris oners, so that "it seemed as though the ceiling would fall on our heads." After being kept in Wilmington one month he was removed to Florence, S. C, where he was paroled after one liifer ■*iNI ■BS_ . :'- 7. V^fju _3fi_6r ■ '7*?'.- _3fS Bl- - sS *1* M^W^k B _E2 v' _^*_&V ** ■ "'_■ ■0 ,'l__fl_ii__n^^_B__l_^ B_B_li__ _■ 3 SkL. • «kb__m; m#fa-.- t - - \ '. f .-, l*r -*. --• _H_ ||§i|g^ -__k£_S___' _»mRSE)o3S_6B_' month's weary waiting, and shortly aft erward returned to his home in the North, having been a prisoner of the enemy over twenty-six months, or from Dec. 20, ISC2, until March 4, 1865. G. V. Lauiphere'ii Experience. George N. Lamphere, private, Com pany B, Sixteenth Connecticut, now sec retary soldiers' home board and com mander of the Minnesota Association Union ex-Prisoners of War, was captur ed at Plymouth, N. C, April 20, 1864. He tells of his prison experience as follows: My active service ceased with the cap ture of Plymouth by the enemy, but I was fated to undergo an experience many times more trying and dangerous. A mini© ball was lodged in my elbow. The surgeon of my regiment, assisted by two of the enemy's surgeons, operated on my wound on the day of the surren der. The first thing that was done by the surgeon was to insert his forefinger in the hole, that the bullet had made and explore around therein with the pur- V . : :-'.'.,"- ; WARBEN HEWITT MEAD. PETE„ DALY. pose of locating that little wicked piece of lead. They operated for some time, Saving me a good deal of pain, without removing the bullet. Dr. Meyer, my reg imental surgeon, informed me that the bullet would work out when the wound suppurated. But he- was mistaken. It did not come uot. The rebels marched all our men away, I think the same day, except a few slightly wounded ones, who were left behind to nurse the badly wounded, and all j went away except a small guard. They"left neither surgeon nor hospital steward of our army or their own. The only;care my wound received for thirty-two long days was washing with water and bandaging by an inex perienced mart. "Within twenty-four hours inflammation ..set in. and with it, as you may readily Imagine, an intense C. J. HTJMASON. burning pain. This never once let up until my arm was amputated, on the 22d of May at Raleigh. As the inflammation extended upward, mortification com menced and followed in its wake, and when the remedy of amputation was final ly resorted to, which was undoubtedly delayed because there was no one at hand capable of* sawing my arm off, was black from above the elbow downwards, and it was necessary to cut the arm off within five inches of the shoulder in or der to get sound flesh and skin to lap with. .By this fcime.with insufficient and improper food arid nourishment and the waste of never-ceasing pain, which pre vented rest and sleep, 1 had become re duced to a skeleton,' and was so weak that when I was lifted to a sitting posi tion, I would faint After we had laid there at Plymouth about thirty days, the rebels put us on a barge and towed us to Weidon, where we were transferred to a railroad train and carried to Raleigh, where they had a hospital and surgeons. We arrived there on the 21st day of May. It is easy to believe me when I say that the jolting of travel increased my pain very much ,and when I arrived at Raleigh I was in a state bordering on final collapse. The hospital was in the old fair buildings at Raleigh. Those who have seen Union army hospitals, with their comfortable quarters, clean beds and linen and sumptuous fare, should not for a moment suppose that this so called hospital at Raleigh bore any re semblance thereto. %. -Equipment of Poorest Kind. : The only equipment of it was rough cots with coarse ticks stuffed with straw and a cheap blanket for covering, a table or two, a few rough chairs, and a room where . the surgeons kept their meager supplies. The building was like a barn, with bare floors, and was set up on posts probably three or three and one-half feet from the ground. On the evening of our arrival a rebel surgeon named Hey wood, a kindly faced and pleasant spoken man (for I shall always remember him with gratitude), came in and examined the new arrivals. When he came to my cot, after looking at my arm, he said: .„^"""^ : _ / / B■■ _^_*"* •___i(W&!_i'- >,v-^;'^'_9_9Bl_s __/ y \\ _ It W^W^S? -V^i_r—_ifc7^fe:7 . \V* m |\ fe__l^^t^^__^V^,B_H!r "Well, my boy, you have a bad arm; I will have to come around tomorrow morn ing and amputate it." I understood enough of my situation to know that am putation was my only salvation, and thanked him. He came with an assistant the next morning. They laid me on a table, and as they administered ether I thought of home and my mother. I did not believe that 1 had strength enough to rally from the operation, and so bade good'-by to earth, breathing a prayer to God to receive my spirit. I was mistaken, for in due time I recovered consciousness, and never have I felt so much relief. That terrible burning pain had disappeared, and in place of it there was only the sharp, but not very weakening, pain of the cut. I was put back on the cot, and from that time began to sleep. 1 slept GEO. N. LANPHEEE. Moorhead, Minn, day and night for a week or more, mak ing up for lost time. I was, however, ex cessively weak, and could not move my self at all, and when moved fainted. Our fare was not calculated to give, us strength very fast, and therefore I gained but slowly. But I had strong hope, and was determined to live. I think it was nine days after the amputation that I first got on my feet, and from that time my recovery was faster, and I might say was. assured, except that' there was im minent danger of gangrene or erysipelas setting in, there being some patients in the same room with these dreadfully fatal diseases, and there was little precaution taken to prevent their contact with the healty subjects. The rebels were desti tute of lint, bandages and medical sup plies of all kinds. The same bandages were used a week, the nurses in dressing the wounds simply rinsing them out in cold water, and once a week were boiled. But my arm escaped gangrene and ery sipelas and healed nicely. Once or twice maggots got under the adhesive plaster strips that bound the flaps and gave me a good' deal of annoyance in the cut, but I was able to get them out and was very careful to kee» the flies off after that. After a while those who had not died, and I regret to say that many did die, and some of these were only slightly wounded and had . been our nurses, and they died because they lost heart, were put en board a train for some prison further south. We afterwards learned that Andersonville was our intended des tination. By some break in the railroad arrangements we were stopped at Salis bury and put in the prison there, but only for a day or two, and then again boarded the train. This time we got a3 far as Columbia. S. C, where we heard that we were stopped also because of some difficulty or obstacle in the matter of railroad service. We were put in an old wooden shed in the rear of the Columbua city jail, the main structure being occupied principally by naval of ficers captured at Charleston. Here we remained until October. I do not remem ber the day of the month, when some of us, that is, cripples and the sick, were started in box cars for Richmond to be paroled. While we rejoiced greatly to leave Columbia, that journey to Rich mond was one of terrible torment. We were, I think, six days on the road, and so many men were packed in a car, which was guarded by two soldiers with fixed bayonets, that by no possibility of arrangement could we for one moment stretch our bodies out at length on the car floor. The result was excruciating pains in the knees. On arrival at Rich mond we were confined in Libby prison, awaiting the parole boat. In about two weeks the welcome opening of the door for us arrived, we marched to the boat and in due time arrived at City Point. ' . • C. C. Andrews Tells Hi* Story. Gen. C. C. Andrews, chief fire warden JOHN SUNTKEE. of the state and at one time colonel of the Third Minnesota regiment which sur rendered at Murfreesborough, tells of the experience of a commissioned officer in rebeL prisons. The following is taken from a paper prepared and read by Gen. Andrews before the Minnesota Com mandery of the Military Order of the Le gion of Honor: The second day after leaving Knoxville and when about a hundred miles south east of Atlanta, the train pulled up; and from various indications it seemed we had reached our destination. I think It was a little after noon. The weather was clear but Intensely hot and depress ing. On the left side of the railroad and quite near, was a large three-story brick building, surrounded- with an unpainted board fence about twelve feet high. Ev ery window was full of Union prisoners, who greeted us with various loud, good humored expressions. The scene, how ever, was anything but pleasant, yet in obedience to orders we alighted and were soon inside the prison yard, which wa3 about an. acre in extent We had ar- lift umi rvn rutin {LEADING CREDIT CLOTHIERS OF AMERICA 1 ii ull vii Li uunit NOW IT'S 30 STORES. We have opened two more Credit Clothing stores, making 30 in all. How could our success be so phenomenal if we didn't have the people with us? And if we didn't give them the best qualities, newest styles, lowest prices and easiest terms ? Think it over. People's Credit Clothing Store, 374 Robert St., St. Paul. j Minneapolis Store, 421 Nicollet Ay. Telephone 2252-Jl. | Telephone 3314-J2. ■* rived at Madison, Ga., a village of a thousand inhabitants, a cultured coram... nity and the seat of a popular young la dies seminary. • *.' Was also the home of ?J^w/ ♦;^? laS T distinguished Union leaders, the Hon. Joshua Hill. Our prison, which was situated away from the village, had been a cotton fac tory and its boilers still remained in tha basement The first floor w« vacant The west half of the second floor was oc cupied aby u V.l? n commissioned officers; the east half by Union citizen prisoners from East Tennessee. The third floor was occupied principally by Gen. Prentiss and the officers captured with him at Shiloh To make room for our party the citizen prisoners were moved down to the ti st floor Space of about six feet In width by eight in length was allotted for two prisoners. The civilian prisoners had allowed their* floor to become filthy, It abounded with dirt and vermin; therefore the first thina we had to do was. by using shovels. brooms, soap and water, to purl our re spective portions of the floor. The tirsb few nights we slept on the floor, but aft erwards were provided with new pina double bed frames filled with clean straw. Having finished our little job t>C policing" and wishing to black my shoes, I after repeated Inquiries ascer tained that among the Shiloh prisoners there, was an officer who possess a box of blacking and a brush. I sought him out and he very readily and kindly loan ed them to me. That officer, then a cip tain in the Twelfth lowa infantry is f am happy to say, a companion present with us— near and esteem* neighbor and fellow-citizen, Maj. Edward W. Van Duzee. Allowed to Buy Hooks. The very first day I was In this rebel prison, I obtained permission to send to the village'book store for a copy of Saaks pere and was successful in procuring yn e , complete, in octavo size, it was permit ted, the same day, to go out accompanied by a guard, to a neighboring house to borrow a chair. The occupants were in ordinary circumstances and the mistress of the family, like many others in the neighborhood, prepared and sold warm meals to such of our prisoners as hack money to pay for them. I was treated by her in a polite manner, and a plain wooden chair was loaned to me, which I was permitted to retain during my stay in the prison. I was the only ma on my floor who had a chair. Fre quently after I had retire! at night. Gen. Crittenden came and borrowed ii to take into the hospital where he and a few others enjoyed a game of cards. Shaks pero and a chair! In a rebel prison tiny were luxuries indeed. Our subsistence was furnished to us cooked. We had two meals a day; tho first at about 9 o'clock and the second at about 3 In Che afternoon. We had fresh boiled beef a few Times a week, but not every day. On other days we had boiled bacon; corn "dodgers" formed th prin cipal bread, though wheat flour bread was furnished occasionally. There were no vegetables, no tea nor" coffee. A few rationa of boiled rice were served towards the last of our stay. The cooking wus done by negro women In a small camp just outside of the prison fence and was exceedingly poor. As a matt i of fact, the subsistence was generally spoiled by being merely half cooked, and it was th- and Is now, my opinion that the fault was from lack of administrative ability rather than from willful intention. The wheat flour of which the so-called. k a jsssg& •*^*WRfe__ifc& _ _ _«ra_S! *, - - ;„sV'vywSs "*r lip; r "^ $&$+ _K-V;i^»___sE_>' _ Mat ; AjfSsSu. '£_ —H_HKHc ."*__ __^2__l@^Fv x "'<■■:& I_w_slß®*s*i_ s_*Pl_^^<*i^HK£**_&*^ v> *_ * , 899K%yl JSJb '..'.?» A\*^a-"V?J*V_?tv?i* >-.'j!'A BBi "H __■_?/ __fesHPi£ wSLj.- _■_- ES^^a-v • :'r"»^''^"i *t;" -'^!S"' B_j_s___s__S_S___ —__—_S __ _!n--* J. J. him:. bread was made was apparently of good quality; but it was baked in spiders in thin round cakes about three-quarters ot ■an inch thick, and so hastily as to be lit;. better than so much dough. The beef was boiled but a very short time, and being served without sail or other seasoning was not particular! appetiz ing. A little flour was stirred Into the water in which it was boiled, and that, without being salted, was served as soup. Tho fresh meat was usually cooked soon after the animal ha/1 been slaughtered and the natural animal or slaughter house taste or odor was strong both in meat and soup. In respect to the bacon, while some of it was good, then was much that was of a lively character. However, the most palatable food which I found was a sandwich made with a bit of cold corn bread and a thin slice of fat bacon. I used to save a portion of corn bread and bacon to ma sach a sandwich to eat arty In the morning. with my Shaks] open before me, :ind seated with scores of fellow prisoners on a narrow bank of earth in the shade of the high prison fence. Delicacies of Prison Mess. The mess to which I belonged number ed about eight. There was a small tabl» around which we stood to eat. On. [dates and water cups were of tin and we took turns in "washing the dishes'' and putting things to rights. During th» last weeks we were there we had. at our own expense, the luxury of sweet potato coffee. It was found that sw.-et potatoes sliced and roasted the same as coffee, would, when boiled, make a bev erage having tin color and something of the taste of coffee. Not a few of tho prisoners, and especially those o.i tho third floor, were well supplied with money, and purchased their meals from private houses in the vicinity at the ex pense sometimes of %2 a day per person. Baskets of fried chickens, hot rolls and other luxuries fresh and savory, thus prepared to order, were carried through our room dally. Many watermelons and peaches were purchased and consumad in the prison. Trip in a Cattle Train. We were sent from Madison to Rich* mond In order to complete the arrange* ments for "our parole. The trip was mad« to Columbia, S. C, in cattle cars, tin Continued on Twenty-First Vane