h!

If the statements of Captain Glazier regarding this and other
contemporaneous outrages are to be relied upon (and he is very strongly
corroborated), the officers commanding this military prison sadly abused
their trust. Even the highest of those officials indulged in such petty
exhibitions of puerile spite as to be altogether unworthy of his
station, or even the name of an American.

On the arrival of the Fourth of July, the prisoners very naturally
determined, as far as their limited resources would permit, to celebrate
the occasion. Accordingly, in true American fashion, a meeting was
called, at which speeches of a patriotic character were made, songs
sung, and a miniature flag, containing the full number of stars and
stripes, which one of their number had concealed about his person, was
produced, and became an object of much interest. Instead of
magnanimously ignoring all this harmless enthusiasm, the commander of
the prison marched in a company of guards and violently dispersed the
meeting!

On the twenty-seventh of July, six hundred prisoners were counted out,
as they supposed to be added to the others under fire at Charleston, but
really for removal to Camp Davidson, at Savannah, Georgia.

This change proved for the better. In the first place, in lieu of the
Sahara of shadeless sand and clay of their former prison grounds, they
found at "Davidson" a number of fine oaks, beneath the shade of which
they were permitted to recline in peace. In addition to this, and a
matter of infinitely greater importance, their guards were officered by
_gentlemen_. Captain Glazier states that the authorities here issued
tents, cooking utensils, and decent rations, and adds this tribute to
their generally manly conduct toward the prisoners: "The troops here
have seen service, and there is nothing like the battle-field and the
suffering there experienced to teach soldiers humanity toward each
other. Whenever attempts are made to escape, they give us to understand
that they would do the same themselves, under like circumstances, but
are still compelled to punish such infractions of discipline. They
politely ask our pardon for inspecting our quarters, and in a manner as
gentlemanly as possible, remove our blankets from the floor of our tents
in their search for incipient _tunnels_. All this is very gratifying and
tends to assuage the bitter hatred which former brutality has
engendered. These Georgia boys will be long remembered,