. 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 . arge proportion viewed thatwhich impended over them with at least outward boys around me had endured all that we suirered with sto-ical firmness. Groans from pain-racked bodies could not berepressed, and bitter curses and maledictions against the Rebelsleaped unbidden to the lips at the slightest occasion, but therewas no murmuring or whining. There was not a day
. 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 . arge proportion viewed thatwhich impended over them with at least outward boys around me had endured all that we suirered with sto-ical firmness. Groans from pain-racked bodies could not berepressed, and bitter curses and maledictions against the Rebelsleaped unbidden to the lips at the slightest occasion, but therewas no murmuring or whining. There was not a day — hardlyan hour — in which one did not see such exhibitions of manly A STORY OF KEBEL MILITARY PRISONS. 397 fortitude as made him proud of belonging to a race of whichevery individual was a hero. But the emotion which pain and suffering and danger couldnot develop, joy could, and boys sang, and shouted and cried,and danced as if in a delirium. Gods country, fairer llianthe sweet promised land of Canaan appeared to the rapt visionof the Hebrew poet prophet, spread out in glad vista before theminds eye of every one. It had come — at last it had come —that which we had so longed for, wished for, prayed for,. dreamed of; schemed, planned, toiled for, and for which wentup the last earnest, dying wish of the thousands of our com-rades who would now know no exchange save into that eternal Gods country where Sickness and sorrow, pain and deathAre felt and feared no more. Our preparations for leaving were few and simple. Whenthe morning came, and shortly after the order to move, Andrews 398 ANDEFwSONVILLE. and I picked our well-worn blanket, our tattered overcoat, ourrude chessmen, and no less rude board, our little black can, andthe spoon made of hoop-iron, and bade farewell to the hole-in-the-ground that had been our home for nearly seven longmonths. My feet were still in miserable condition from the lacerationsreceived in the attempt to escape, but I took one of our tentpoles
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