of
life, and possessing a hopeful disposition, unaccustomed to give way to
despondency, I also write upon the bright side of my subject. The reader
who expects to find in this book a volume of sickening details of the
horrors of starvation and suffering endured by those whose misfortune it
was to be confined in Andersonville, under that inhuman monster Wirz--the
mention of whose name causes a shudder--will be disappointed. Having kept
a complete diary of events during my ten months' imprisonment, I am able
to give a reliable account of what came under my personal observation. I
have often heard it said, even here in the North, that our men who were
prisoners, were cared for as well as the limited means of the Confederacy
would admit; but the falsity of this is seen when you remember that
Andersonville is situated in a densely wooded country, and that much of
the suffering endured was for the want of fuel with which to cook their
scanty rations, and for the want of shelter, which they would have
cheerfully constructed had the opportunity been afforded them. The
evidence all goes to show that instead of trying to save the lives or
alleviate the sufferings of those whom the fortunes of war had thrown into
their hands, they practiced a systematic course of starvation and cruelty,
that in this nineteenth century, seems scarcely believable. In this
scheme, the arch traitor, Jeff. Davis, was most heartily assisted by the
infamous Winder and his cowardly assistants, Wirz, Dick Turner, Tabb and
others, whose timid hearts unfitted them for service in the field, but
just qualified them for acts of atrocity and cruelty, such as were
inflicted upon the loyal sons of the North who were in their power. Prison
life, at best, to one who has been educated beneath the flag of freedom,
is a trial hard to be endured; but when accompanied with indignities,
insults and tortures, such as were inflicted upon the occupants of those
prison hells of the South, it becomes simply unbearable.

A. COOPER.

CHAPTER I.

DESCRIPTION OF PLYMOUTH, N. C.

Plymouth, in 1863-4, was a small town, situate on the Roanoke river, about
six miles from where the waters of that stream enters the Albermarle
Sound.

The river at Plymouth is nearly a quarter of a mile wide, and with a
sufficient depth of water to float the largest draught gunboats. The shore
next the town was supplied with a wharf for landing steamers that navigate
the river; but the gunb