andersonville-第45部分

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at　me；　and；　of　course；　I　knew　I　was　a　goner；　they　walked　me　back　about
one　hundred　and　fifty　yards；　where　their　picket　line　was。　　From　there　I
was　kept　going　for　an　hour　or　two　until　we　got　over　to　a　place　on　the
railroad　called　East　Point。　　There　I　got　in　with　a　big　crowd　of　our
prisoners；　who　were　taken　the　day　before；　and　we　have　been　fooling　along
in　a　lot　of　old　cattle　cars　getting　down　here　ever　since。

〃So　this　is　'Andersonville；'　is　it　a　Well；　by　…！〃




CHAPTER　XLI。

CLOTHING：　ITS　RAPID　DETERIORATION；　AND　DEVICES　TO　REPLENISH　ITDESPERATE
EFFORTS　TO　COVER　NAKEDNESS〃LITTLE　RED　CAP〃　AND　HIS　LETTER。

Clothing　had　now　become　an　object　of　real　solicitude　to　us　older
prisoners。　　The　veterans　of　our　crowdthe　surviving　remnant　of　those
captured　at　Gettysburghad　been　prisoners　over　a　year。　　The　next　in
senioritythe　Chickamauga　boyshad　been　in　ten　months。　　The　Mine　Run
fellows　were　eight　months　old；　and　my　battalion　had　had　seven　months'
incarceration。　　None　of　us　were　models　of　well…dressed　gentlemen　when
captured。　　Our　garments　told　the　whole　story　of　the　hard　campaigning　we
had　undergone。　　Now；　with　months　of　the　wear　and　tear　of　prison　life；
sleeping　on　the　sand；　working　in　tunnels；　digging　wells；　etc。；　we　were
tattered　and　torn　to　an　extent　that　a　second…class　tramp　would　have
considered　disgraceful。

This　is　no　reflection　upon　the　quality　of　the　clothes　furnished　by　the
Government。　　We　simply　reached　the　limit　of　the　wear　of　textile　fabrics。
I　am　particular　to　say　this；　because　I　want　to　contribute　my　little　mite
towards　doing　justice　to　a　badly　abused　part　of　our　Army　organization
the　Quartermaster's　Department。　　It　is　fashionable　to　speak　of　〃shoddy；〃
and　utter　some　stereotyped　sneers　about　〃brown　paper　shoes；〃　and
〃musketo…netting　overcoats；〃　when　any　discussion　of　the　Quartermaster
service　is　the　subject　of　conversation；　but　I　have　no　hesitation　in
asking　the　indorsement　of　my　comrades　to　the　statement　that　we　have　never
found　anywhere　else　as　durable　garments　as　those　furnished　us　by　the
Government　during　our　service　in　the　Army。　　The　clothes　were　not　as　fine
in　texture；　nor　so　stylish　in　cut　as　those　we　wore　before　or　since；　but
when　it　came　to　wear　they　could　be　relied　on　to　the　last　thread。　　It　was
always　marvelous　to　me　that　they　lasted　so　well；　with　the　rough　usage　a
soldier　in　the　field　must　necessarily　give　them。

But　to　return　to　my　subject。　　I　can　best　illustrate　the　way　our　clothes
dropped　off　us；　piece　by　piece；　like　the　petals　from　the　last　rose　of
Summer；　by　taking　my　own　case　as　an　example：　　When　I　entered　prison　I　was
clad　in　the　ordinary　garb　of　an　enlisted　man　of　the　cavalrystout；
comfortable　boots；　woolen　pocks；　drawers；　pantaloons；　with　a
〃reenforcement；〃　or　〃ready…made　patches；〃　as　the　infantry　called　them；
vest；　warm；　snug…fitting　jacket；　under　and　over　shirts；　heavy　overcoat；
and　a　forage…cap。　　First　my　boots　fell　into　cureless　ruin；　but　this　was
no　special　hardship；　as　the　weather　had　become　quite　warm；　and　it　was
more　pleasant　than　otherwise　to　go　barefooted。　　Then　part　of　the
underclothing　retired　from　service。　　The　jacket　and　vest　followed；　their
end　being　hastened　by　having　their　best　portions　taken　to　patch　up　the
pantaloons；　which　kept　giving　out　at　the　most　embarrassing　places。　　Then
the　cape　of　the　overcoat　was　called　upon　to　assist　in　repairing　these
continually…recurring　breaches　in　the　nether　garments。　　The　same
insatiate　demand　finally　consumed　the　whole　coat；　in　a　vain　attempt　to
prevent　an　exposure　of　person　greater　than　consistent　with　the　usages　of
society。　　The　pantaloonsor　what；　by　courtesy；　I　called　such；　were　a
monument　of　careful　and　ingenious；　but　hopeless；　patching；　that　should
have　called　forth　the　admiration　of　a　Florentine　artist　in　mosaic。
I　have　been　shownin　later　yearsmany　table　tops；　ornamented　in
marquetry；　inlaid　with　thousands　of　little　bits　of　wood；　cunningly
arranged；　and　patiently　joined　together。　　I　always　look　at　them　with
interest；　for　I　know　the　work　spent　upon　them：　I　remember　my
Andersonville　pantaloons。

The　clothing　upon　the　upper　part　of　my　body　had　been　reduced　to　the
remains　of　a　knit　undershirt。　　It　had　fallen　into　so　many　holes　that　it
looked　like　the　coarse　〃riddles〃　through　which　ashes　and　gravel　are
sifted。　　Wherever　these　holes　were　the　sun　had　burned　my　back；　breast　and
shoulders　deeply　black。　　The　parts　covered　by　the　threads　and　fragments
forming　the　boundaries　of　the　holes；　were　still　white。　　When　I　pulled　my
alleged　shirt　off；　to　wash　or　to　free　it　from　some　of　its　teeming
population；　my　skin　showed　a　fine　lace　pattern　in　black　and　white；　that
was　very　interesting　to　my　comrades；　and　the　subject　of　countless　jokes
by　them。

They　used　to　descant　loudly　on　the　chaste　elegance　of　the　design；　the
richness　of　the　tracing；　etc。；　and　beg　me　to　furnish　them　with　a　copy　of
it　when　I　got　home；　for　their　sisters　to　work　window　curtains　or　tidies
by。　　They　were　sure　that　so　striking　a　novelty　in　patterns　would　be　very
acceptable。　　I　would　reply　to　their　witticisms　in　the　language　of
Portia's　Prince　of　Morocco：

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Mislike　me　not　for　my　complexion
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　The　shadowed　livery　of　the　burning　sun。

One　of　the　stories　told　me　in　my　childhood　by　an　old　negro　nurse；　was　of
a　poverty　stricken　little　girl　〃who　slept　on　the　floor　and　was　covered
with　the　door；〃　and　she　once　asked

〃Mamma　how　do　poor　folks　get　along　who　haven't　any　door？〃

In　the　same　spirit　I　used　to　wonder　how　poor　fellows　got　along　who　hadn't
any　shirt。

One　common　way　of　keeping　up　one's　clothing　was　by　stealing　mealsacks。
The　meal　furnished　as　rations　was　brought　in　in　white　cotton　sacks。
Sergeants　of　detachments　were　required　to　return　these　when　the　rations
were　issued　the　next　day。　　I　have　before　alluded　to　the　general
incapacity　of　the　Rebels　to　deal　accurately　with　even　simple　numbers。
It　was　never　very　difficult　for　a　shrewd　Sergeant　to　make　nine　sacks
count　as　ten。　　After　awhile　the　Rebels　began　to　see　through　this　sleight
of　hand　manipulation；　and　to　check　it。　　Then　the　Sergeants　resorted　to
the　device　of　tearing　the　sacks　in　two；　and　turning　each　half　in　as　a
whole　one。　　The　cotton　cloth　gained　in　this　way　was　used　for　patching；
or；　if　a　boy　could　succeed　in　beating　the　Rebels　out　of　enough　of　it；
he　would　fabricate　himself　a　shirt　or　a　pair　of　pantaloons。　　We　obtained
all　our　thread　in　the　same　way。　　A　half　of　a　sack；　carefully　raveled　out；
would　furnish　a　couple　of　handfuls　of　thread。　　Had　it　not　been　for　this
resource　all　our　sewing　and　mending　would　have　come　to　a　standstill。

Most　of　our　needles　were　manufactured　by　ourselves　from　bones。　　A　piece
of　bone；　split　as　near　as　possible　to　the　required　size；　was　carefully
rubbed　down　upon　a　brick；　and　then　had　an　eye　laboriously　worked　through
it　with　a　bit　of　wire　or　something　else　available　for　the　purpose。
The　needles　were　about　the　size　of　ordinary　darning　needles；　and　answered
the　purpose　very　well。

These　devices　gave　one　some　conception　of　the　way　savages　provide　for　the
wants　of　their　lives。　　Time　was　with　them；　as　with　us；　of　little
importance。　　It　was　no　loss　of　time　to　them；　nor　to　us；　to　spend　a　large
portion　of　the　waking　hours　of　a　week　in　fabricating　a　needle　out　of　a
bone；　where　a　civilized　man　could　purchase　a　much　better　one　with　the
product　of　three　minutes'　labor。　　I　do　not　think　any　red　Indian　of　the
plains　exceeded　us　in　the　patience　with　which　we　worked　away　at　these
minutia　of　life's　needs。

Of　course　the　most　common　source　of　clothing　was　the　dead；　and　no　body
was　carried　out　with　any　clothing　on　it　that　could　be　of　service　to　the
survivors。　　The　Plymouth　Pilgrims；　who　were　so　well　clothed　on　coming　in；
and　were　now　dying　off　very　rapidly；　furnished　many　good　suits　to　cover
the　nakedness　of　older；　prisoners。　　Most　of　the　prisoners　from　the　Army
of　the　Potomac　were　well　dressed；　and　as　very　many　died　within　a　month　or
six　weeks　after　their　entrance；　they　left　their　clothes　in　pretty　good
condition　for　those　who　constituted　themselves　their　heirs；
administrators　and　assigns。

For　my　own　part；　I　had　the　greatest　aversion　to　wearing　dead　men's
clothes；　and　could　only　bring　myself　to　it　after　I　had　been　a　year　in
prison；　and　it　became　a　question　between　doing　that　and　freezing　to
death。

Every　new　batch　of　prisoners　was　besieged　with　anxious　inquiries　on　the
subject　which　lay　closest　to　all　our　hearts：

〃What　are　they　doing　about　exchange！〃

Nothing　in　human　experiencesave　the　anxious　expectancy　of　a　sail　by
castaways　on　a　desert　islandcould　equal　the　intense　eagerness　with
which　this　question　was　asked；　and　the　answer　awaited。　　To　thousands　now
hanging　on　the　verge　of　eternity　it　meant　life　or　death。　　Between　the
first　day　of　July　and　the　first　of　November　over　twelve　thousand　men
died；　who　would　doubtless　have　lived　had　they　been　able　to　reach　our
lines〃get　to　God's　country；〃　as　we　expressed　it。

The　new　comers　brought　little　reliable　news　of　contemplated　exchange。
There　was　none　to　bring　in　the　first　place；　and　in　the　next；　soldiers　in
active　service　in　the　field　had　other　things　to　busy　themselves　with　than
reading　up　the　details　of　the　negotiations　between　the　Commissioners　of
Exchange。　　They　had　all　heard　rumors；　however；　and　by　the　time　they
reached　Andersonville；　they　had　crystallized　these　into　actual　statements
of　fact。　　A　half　hour　after　they　entered　the　Stockade；　a　report　like　this
would　spread　like　wildfire：

〃An　Army　of　the　Potomac　man　has　just　come　in；　who　was　captured　in　front
of　Petersburg。　　He　says　that　he　read　in　the　New　York　Herald；　the　day
before　he　was　taken；　that　an　exchange　had　been　agreed　upon；　and　that　our
ships　had　already　started　for　Savannah　to　take　us　home。〃

Then　our　hopes　would　soar　up　like　balloons。　　We　fed　ourselves　on　such
stuff　from　day　to　day；　and　doubtless　many　lives　were　greatly　prolonged　by
the　continual　encouragement。　　There　was　hardly　a　day　when　I　did　not　say
to　myself　that　I　would　much　rather　die　than　endure　imprisonment　another
month；　and　had　I　believed　that　another　month　would　see　me　still　there；
I　am　pretty　certain　that　I　should　have　ended　the　matter　by　crossing　the
Dead　Line。　　I　was　fi