he hospital just as long as my rapidly
healing wound would permit, but was soon transferred to a prison where
at night the sleepers--Yankees, Confederate deserters, and negroes--were
so crowded upon the floor that some lay under the feet of the guards in
the doorways. The atmosphere was dreadful. I fell ill, and for three
days lay with my head in the fireplace, more dead than alive.

A few days thereafter about three hundred prisoners were crowded into
cattle-cars bound for Andersonville. We must have been a week on this
railroad journey when an Irish lieutenant of a Rochester regiment and I,
who had been allowed to ride in the baggage-car, were taken from the
train at Macon, Georgia, where about sixteen hundred Union officers were
confined at the fair-grounds. General Alexander Shaler, of Sedgwick's
corps, also captured at the Wilderness, was the ranking officer, and to
him was accorded a sort of interior command of the camp. Before passing
through the gate we expected to see a crowd bearing some outward
semblance of respectability. Instead, we were instantly surrounded by
several hundred ragged, barefooted, frowzy-headed men shouting "Fresh
fish!" at the top of their voices and eagerly asking for news. With rare
exceptions all were shabbily dressed. There was, however, a little knot
of naval officers who had been captured in the windings of the narrow
Rappahannock by a force of cavalry, and who were the aristocrats of the
camp. They were housed in a substantial fair-building in the center of
the grounds, and by some special terms of surrender must have brought
their complete wardrobes along. On hot days they appeared in spotless
white duck, which they were permitted to send outside to be laundered.
Their mess was abundantly supplied with the fruits and vegetables of the
season. The ripe red tomatoes they were daily seen to peel were the envy
of the camp. I well remember that to me, at this time, a favorite
occupation was to lie on my back with closed eyes and imagine the dinner
I would order if I were in a first-class hotel. It was no unusual thing
to see a dignified colonel washing his lower clothes in a pail, clad
only in his uniform dresscoat. Ladies sometimes appeared on the
guard-walk outside the top of the stockade, on which occasions the
cleanest and best-dressed men turned out to see and be seen. I was quite
proud to appear in a clean gray shirt, spotless white drawers, and
moccasins made of blue overcoat cloth