718 Nortu Caro.ina Troops, 1861~’65.

tions of sick and disabled prisoners, no judicial hangings
could then, or ever since, convince us that Davis, Stephens,
Robert E. Lee, Stonewall Jackson or any other of the great
and good men of the South would have maltreated unarmed
prisoners of war! Did not Jackson say, while he lay mor-
tally wounded at Chancellorsville, when the physicians
wished to send him off the field lest he should fall into the
hands of the enemy: “And if the enemy does come,” he
said, “I am not afraid of them; I have always been kind to
their wounded, and I am sure they will be kind to me.” And
any of our leaders might have said the same.

It is well known that supplies and medicines, and clothing
were not always to be had for our own soldiers at the front.
We know that a large part of the army had been more than a
day without food when they fought the battle of Sharpsburg,
and that the thin gray line in front of Petersburg never knew
a full ration’; and-we know that, because of all this, our lead-

-ers exhausted every effort to exchange prisoners, offering sev-

eral for one, but without avail. So we resolved to take what
came with a good courage, knowing that to us was not the
shame. And this resolve was kept by many unto death. A
few, as many perhaps as might be counted upon the fingers,
worn out with exposure, scurvy and starvation, “fell away
to the Chaldeans.”’

But all of these things and much more—the many attempts
at escape, always betrayed—the sickness, the wounds, the
deaths, the organized efforts for mutual help—though there
was little to give except sympathy, and literally a cup of cold
water for His sake—the names, rank, command and native
States of all the six hundred, are they not written, and min-
utely set forth in Colonel John L. Cantwell’s book of statis-

tics and notes which he began to collect from the start, and
which, with untiring zeal and great patience, he continued

to enlarge and perfect on the spot, and down even to the pres-
ent day, and which he preserved, Heaven knows how, amid
all the chances and changes of our prison life—so that it fur-
nishes the only authentic statement of those trying times
which is now extant, though I believe he has permitted the
authorities at Washington. to copy the list of names and

CoNFEDERATE PRISONERS AT Morris ISLAND. 719

deaths, and several other copies have appeared in the South
without the proper credit. Glancing over this little book,
the eye rests on this pathetic sentence: ‘Was not allowed
to mark the graves of brother officers at Fort Pulaski, though
head boards were prepared (by the prisoners) for all the
dead.”” What need of any further comment!

On 4 March, 1865, we left Fort Pulaski, and on 26 April
Colonel Cantwell, Captains John T. Rankin, John Cowan
and other Wilmingtonians left for the South. To Captain
Thomas C. Lewis the writer is indebted for his notes of
prison life, and which have been followed in this account. It
would require a book to tell the whole story. This is a mere
sketch.

When Queen Anne told Dr. South that his sermon had
only one fault—that of being too short—he replied that he
should have made it shorter if he had had more time!

I have purposely refrained from details since we have set-
tled down to the arts of peace and are trying to forget the
hate and bitterness of the past. One may see now the smoke
of thousands of factories and furnaces, where grim visaged
war left a waste. The South is risen, as if by a miracle. The
government and the Morris Island man could maltreat us,
but some of his prisoners have attained to national fame—
all have done well, and their Jand—God Himself hath blessed
it, and neither Baalam nor his ass can curse it.

Water G. MaoRar.

Wiuminerton, N. C.,
31 December, 1901.