We

death would be our portion if we got across it. Being a sergeant I drew the rations for our squad and I knew just what we had. We got for rations, a pint of unsifted meal to a man per day. Sometimes, however, we would go two days without any, and every second or third day we had one forward quarter of beef (with the leg and shoulder taken off) for one hundred men. I drew my tenth of that for my squad. Once in ten or twelve days we drew a little salt (a spoonful and a half to a man). We drew some lard two or three times while I was there, enough to grease one or two pones. We had to spread it on with a stick. Once I had salt enough left to sprinkle on top of the lard. The rest of the time it was rather fresh eating. When we had meat we put it into the skillet, cooked it a little, and then stirred our meal into what we called fresh mush. would sit on the ground around the skillet and each one take a spoonful when it came his turn until it was all gone. It did not last long. We got some pumpkins twice. I got four small ones once for our squad. They were quite sweet, and some of the boys ate theirs raw, while others boiled them with meat. These were all the rations we had for the six months I was there. When any of the prisoners got too noisy they were punished. There was a ladder standing against the outside of the prison, and when they took a prisoner out for punishment they made. him go up on the under side of the ladder, put his toes on the third or fourth round, and reach up as high as he could with his hands and hang there twenty minutes. The guards were ordered, in case the Yank fell before that time, to run a bayonet through him. I have seen the boys so lame the next day that they could hardly walk. I shall long remember the looks of the sandy headed boy who stood guard at the door that we passed through to go into the cook yard. One of our men had been out into the cook yard with a little cup or pail he happened to have, and which had a wire bail. He took a little stick about a foot long to hang it on while cooking his mush over the fire, and after the mush was cooked he started into the prison, out of the smoke, to eat it. As he did so the guard halted him, and said, "You can't go in here with wood." The man halted, and looked around, but not knowing that the guard referred to the little stick in question, started on, whereupon the guard struck him in the back with the bayonet and ran it through his body. He fell to the ground and soon

breathed his last. The guard did not come back the next morning to his post, and we learned that they had given him a furlough for doing his duty and killing a Yank.

Colonel Jones had command of the prison. One night, there came a heavy rain, and all the prisoners at the lower side of the prison had to get up and stand the remainder of the night. We were forced to sleep on the ground without blankets or anything to keep us out of the mud and wet. One day the colonel went through the prison and I saluted him and asked if he would let us have some straw to keep us out of the mud. He replied that he would send some the next day, and all the boys hurrahed in anticipation of the treat. The promise was never fulfilled. No farmer would put his hogs in such a pen as we were confined in. Many a time the tears ran down our cheeks on account of the cruel and unmerciful treatment which we received of our captors. On one occasion we had to stand nearly three days in the water during a freshet, but we were benefited by it in two ways; it drowned the rats out of their holes in the walls so that we got a few to eat, and it drowned out the graybacks. Some of the rebs got up a petition to let us out on an island that was near there. They got over sixty to sign it, and handed it to Colonel Jones, but he declared that the Yanks should stay in there until they were carried out to be buried, and that was not long for some of them. I have seen ten in one morning laid out on the sill we cut our meat on. The rebs would come in with the stretchers and four or five of our boys would help them carry our dead comrades out and bury them.

After waiting long for an exchange, the spring of 1865 brought us our long delayed relief. But of the many who started on the homeward journey, few lived to tell the story. Fourteen hundred of those who survived the horrors were drowned by the explosion and burning of the steamer Sultana on the Mississippi river. Fortunately, I was one of the saved that night, but I shall never forget the horrors of the scene. I can still hear the pitiful cries of the victims for help. Imagine such a calamity if you can-1,960 poor, hungry, ragged skeletons. roused from their sleep at two o'clock in the morning by the explosion of the boilers, and plunged in hot water, steam, and fire! I was in the water six hours and picked up for dead, but recovered and am yet alive.

ASSAULT ON FORT WAGNER.

Famous Charge of the 54th Mass. (Colored).

“B

ATTERY Wagner" navy joined action at 12.30 P. was of bold profile, ভে and stretched from the sea to Vincent's creek, six hundred and thirty feet, its front, except thirty-three yards, covered by an easterly bend of that creek and its marshes, but a short distance south of the work. It was of irregular form, consisting of two salients at either extremity of the southern or land face, connected by a curtain, with a sea-face in rear of the southeast salient. Only an infantry parapet closed its rear or northerly face. Along its front was a deep moat with sluice gates. Its armament was three guns bearing on the sea, ten guns and one mortar bearing on the land, and some field-pieces.

M., and threw in a stream of shells. Sumter, Wagner, and Gregg replied with vigor the whole afternoon. Great clouds of smoke hung over the ironclads, batteries, earthwork, and Sumter's massive walls. Shells and solid shot crossed each other's course; and the air was rent with countless explosions. By sunset the earthwork seemed to be beaten out of shape. Every shell that struck sent a column of sand high in air; great furrows scarred the slopes, while avalanches of sand were driven into the battery, burying the men, or obstructed the entrances, and half filled the ditch. It was the general opinion that every gun in the work had been silenced; that the garrison had been driven from their shelters and that any supporting force had been driven away. They were mistaken.

Upon that memorable 18th of July, 1863, at 10 A. M., the first gun was fired from our mortar batteries, and soon the cannonade was general. The

The garrison, consisting of 1,700 men-South Carolinians, North Carolinians, and Georgians--under Brigadier-General Talliafero, still clung to the work, and despite the terrible fire. had had but four men killed and fourteen wounded. The afternoon passed with ebb and flow of thundering cannon. At the summons of General Gillmore his principal officers gathered for a momentous conference, and it resulted in the determination that Wagner should be assaulted that night. General Truman Seymour was to command the assaulting column. Seymour organized his force as follows: Strong's brigade of the 6th Conn., 48th N. Y., 3d N. H., 9th Me., and 76th Penn. was to storm the earthwork; Putnam's brigade of the 7th N. H., 100th N. Y., 62d and 67th Ohio was the support. Brig.-Gen. Thomas G. Stevenson's brigade of the 24th Mass., 10th Conn., 97th Penn., and 2d S. C. (colored) was the reserve. Our batteries were managed by regular and volunteer artillerymen, and the 7th Conn. battalion. At 6 P. M. a single regiment marched toward the front, along the road, which ran to the west of the sand-hills. Over the line fluttered the national flag, and nestling and caressing its folds was the great white banner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. While passing over the low ground to the left of our artillery line the long blue column drew from James Island several ineffective shots. The only response of the 54th Mass. (colored) was to double-quick, that it might the sooner close with the foe. On every side the killed and wounded were falling; still the survivors pressed on, stumbling over the prostrate forms of comrades, or into the pits made by the great shells of our navy and batteries. Darkness had gathered, and the gloom was more intense from the momentary gleams of cannon explosions or the flashes of musketry. It was in rushing over the short distance separating them from the work and through the fierce line of fire from the light guns outside and the flanking pieces in the salients that probably the greatest loss was sustained. Every cannon flash lit up the scene and disclosed the ground strewn with victims. Over the sanguinary field, the indomitable Shaw had led the stormers; then down into and through the ditch, and up the parapet of the curtain. There he stood a moment shouting to his followers, and then fell dead. Both of the regimental colors were planted on the work, the national flag carried and maintained there by the brave Sergt. William H. Carney of Co. C.

As the 54th mounted the parapet, they were met with determination by the brave garrison, and for a few moments a handto-hand struggle went on. Such contests, however, are not long protracted, and the result always favors the stronger force, if equal bravery is exhibited. The weakened ranks of the 54th soon gave way to superior numbers, and they fell back upon the slopes of the work. Hardly a shot had been fired by the 54th up to this time; but now were heard revolvers, and the louder reports of musket shots. It was seen that the garrison was stronger than had been supposed, that the supports had failed to take advantage of the fierce attack, and that the heroic attempt to take the work at the first rush had failed. Still, by encouraging the men to remain, it was hoped help would be afforded the other troops as they came up. While engaged in this, many brave men fell. Capts. Cabot J. Russell and William H. Simpkins were killed, and Capt. George Pope wounded severely in the shoulder. The enemy supplemented their musketry with hand-grenades or shells, which they threw down the slopes into the mass of men in the ditch below.

All of these events occurred in a brief period of time. The 54th had been repulsed before the arrival of Strong's brigade. Those clinging to the bloody slopes and lying in the ditch with the dead and wounded, hearing fighting going on to their right, began to think of preserving their lives. Some crept through the ditch and entered the salient, taking part in the close fighting there. Among them were three officers of the 54th,-Captains Appleton and Jones, and Lieutenant Emerson, the two former being wounded. Others made their way singly, or in squads, to the sand-hills in the rear.

INDIVIDUAL DEEDS OF HEROISM.

Owing to darkness, individual deeds performed that terrible night are but little known. Sergeants Simmons of Co. B and Carney of Co. C, Corporal Peal of Co. F, and Private Wilson of Co. A, were mentioned in the report of the action as worthy of especial merit, and subsequently all received the Gillmore medal. Sergeant Simmons was wounded and captured; after suffering amputation of the arm in Charleston, he died there. Sergeant Carney and Private Wilson were wounded. The color-guard was almost annihilated, and the losses among