. Andersonville : a story of Rebel military prisons, fifteen months a guest of the so-called southern confederacy : a private soldier's experience in Richmond, Andersonville, Savannah, Millen, Blackshear, and Florence . ANDEKSONVILLE — HOW CAPTURED —IMPRESSIONS ON KEACHINO THE PRISON DOW TREATED LOOK-ING FOR RELIGIOUS COMPANIONS NOTES FROM DAY TO DAT COADJUTORS IN ORGANIZING PRAYER MEETINGS BRUTAL TREAT-MENT OF THE SICK BY REBELS MEAGER BATIONSj ETC. By Rev. T. J. Sheppard, of Granville, O. Never can I forget the mingled emotions of surprise, mortifi-cation and horror which I experienced when,
. Andersonville : a story of Rebel military prisons, fifteen months a guest of the so-called southern confederacy : a private soldier's experience in Richmond, Andersonville, Savannah, Millen, Blackshear, and Florence . ANDEKSONVILLE — HOW CAPTURED —IMPRESSIONS ON KEACHINO THE PRISON DOW TREATED LOOK-ING FOR RELIGIOUS COMPANIONS NOTES FROM DAY TO DAT COADJUTORS IN ORGANIZING PRAYER MEETINGS BRUTAL TREAT-MENT OF THE SICK BY REBELS MEAGER BATIONSj ETC. By Rev. T. J. Sheppard, of Granville, O. Never can I forget the mingled emotions of surprise, mortifi-cation and horror which I experienced when, in the confusionof a night attack, I found myself hopelessly in the hands of the enemy. I thought I hadconsidered every otherchance of a soldiers fatewhen in the passion of patriot-ism I enlisted for threeyears or the war. Bewildered by the unex-pectedness of the calamity,it was only after repeatedand impatient orders that Irelinquished my gun andcartridge box. Yet dazed asI was in this regard, withrespect to many surroundingcircumstances, I never had more vivid impressions; as witnessthe following: Thats my gun, cried one of the Rebels; thats my cart-ridge box, said another; I take that haversack, cried a. BOSTON CORBETT, A STOKT OF REBEL MTLITABY PfilSONS. 629 third, while the fourth dropped at my feet his old gray cap,whose external color suspiciously hinted of its internal furni-ture, seized my good hat and coolly remarked, this will do forme. Such was my first intimate acquaintance with the SouthernChivalry. A few hours later I was much more kindly treatedby a Confederate Brigadier, and a fine soldierly looking fel-low from Texas hoped that my fears of long imprisonment andstarvation might prove unfounded. But, on the whole, myexperience was that the rays of human kindness which fellathwart the black horrors of the prison pens of the South, wereindeed, like angels visits, few and far between. About 2 p. M., June 23, 1864, I, in company with about twohundred unfortunat
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