Diary of Lieutenant Joseph N. Whitney
2nd Rhode Island Cavalry
Company B
CMP - 1864-1865

October 20, 1864

To-day the weather is again fine. Nights frosty and cold. We commenced to live in a tent of our own. I will here give an account of our arrival from Charleston. We were turned into a new lot, in the suburbs of the town, lying on a hill bounded on the east by the main road from Columbia, running north. On the west by a deep valley, through which runs a small creek, tributary to the Saluda. This creek, I may add, runs through the lower portion of the camp. On the north we touch a heavy pine wood, which, with intervals of openings, and: smaller growth, encircles the entire camp though at various distances from its boundaries. On the south -ranges a low ridge, overgrown with brush and scattered pines. The site of the camp was originally covered with a stunted growth of small pines, which, soon disappeared in the shape of huts for protection against the weather. The camp is completely invested by a guard-line and chain of sentinels. It, has been a rule in camp to permit small parties to go into the woods to carry fuel for cooking. Some have already collected sufficient spare wood to construct the walls of a cabin which, covered with brush, are quite comfortable. Our quarters, which we hope to improve now consist of two blankets sewed, or rather strung together, and fastened by the four corners, to many posts driven firmly into the ground, and rising from the surface about two feet. A wedge-pole, supporting the blanket in the centre, is fastened on two stakes, about six inches higher. Our bed (upon which six of us sleep) is made of pine logs, crossing, each other at the ends, making a height of about one foot, on which a surface of logs has been laid. The greatest difficulty we find in sleeping on this bed is, to avoid the sharp corners, being almost entirely without any thinly to lie upon, except a little brush and leaves, and these even are scarce. We are however satisfied with this, in the absence of an immediate prospect of any thing better.

To-day cutting down of our rations took place. The issue per man, for five days, is as follows:
 Five quarts of corn-meal, very coarse.
 One quart of sorohum.
 Two tablespoonfuls of coarse salt.
 Two tablespoonfuls of rice.

[7] In addition to this, those who have money are permitted to purchase of the sutler. He being in league, no doubt, with some of the officers, has a monopoly, and is permitted to sell at his own price. His rates, in Confederate money, are:
 Sweet potatoes, twenty dollars per bushel. Price in town, twelve dollars.
 Butter, fifteen dollars per pound.
 Fresh beef, two dollars and fifty cents per pound.
 Mutton, the same.
 Irish potatoes, thirty-two dollars per bushel.
 Eggs, five dollars per dozen.
 Salt, six dollars per quart.
 Apples, two for a dollar.
 Bacon, seven dollars per pound.
 Tea, seventy-five dollars per pound.
 Coffee, twelve dollars per pound.
 Cigars (villanous), four for a dollar.
 Shoes, sixty-five dollars per pair.
 Tapping-boots, twenty-five dollars.
 Cotton cloth, formerly seven cents, three dollars per yard.
 One sheet of paper-, and one envelope, one dollar.
 French flannel shirt, fifty dollars.
 Tent-fly, one hundred dollars.
 One tin pint measure, five dollars.
 One three-quart pail, twenty dollars.-

We have some difficulty in keeping the scant supplies which we receive. Our sorghum is kept in an old black bottle, which reminds us very forcibly of better cheer in former days. Its history is often a subject of amusement in our mess, talking over the many sprees it has witnessed. Our corn-meal is secured in a bag made out of an old coat-tail, picked up in the rubbish-heap of the camp. Never, during our prison experience, have wen had any conveniences for safely securing rations from the weather, wastage, and dirt.

Our accommodations for cooking and eating are equally primitive and simple. In our mess, which is better supplied than the majority of others, we possess four earthen dishes of the rudest and roughest fabric, two tin plates, much battered and beat; two whole forks, and two with one prong; three knives without handles; one earthen cup of antique pattern, two earthen saucers; two tin pans; one huge tin pail, somewhat dilapidated and leaky, holding about twelve quarts. This answers also the purpose of a boiler. We have also one tin can, holding about one quart, used for making coffee. The repast which these conveniences and our limited rations permit us to make is spread upon the ground.

Our wardrobe, and that of the majority of officers in this prison, is confined to the clothes upon our backs. Under garments are rare, and many who once possessed them were obliged to throw them away on account of the vermin which had congregated in them.

October 21, 1864

One of the finest days in autumn. I often look out upon the fields around, and wish for one hour's liberty. Today a new commander, a lieutenant colonel, took charge of the camp. He has promised a reform and better times; but we have been promised this so often that we expect little.

October 23, 1864

Last evening occurred one of those painful scenes which we are called upon too frequently to witness. Lieutenant Young, of the 4th Pennsylvania cavalry, while sitting on a stool with a number of companions clustered about a fire near the northern boundary of the camp, was shot through the body, aiid died in about twenty minutes. His only words were, "I am hurt' and was immediately seized with a hemorrhage at the lungs. The guard, who was the cause of the lieutenant's death, said it was done accidentally, while adjusting the cap on his musket. But no one has ever been punished, or even reprimanded for their carelessness. I remember one instance, in Richmond, where a soldier, for a similar "accident", received a promotion and furlough. The same occurred during my imprisonment at Macon. A "Yankee" is never killed for any cause whatever, without evident signs of satisfaction on the part of the guard and their officers.

To-day the artillery, under the direction of our new commander, was removed to a hill at a greater distance, and giving better range to sweep the camp. This is probably a precautionary measure, suggested by the alarm of a few nights since. The affair was rather amusing. The particulars were these: About eight o'clock P. M., four shots were heard in quick succession from the west side of the camp. Immediately in the camp of the chivalry there was a great commotion. Men were flying hither and thither in evident consternation.
One shouting, "Where is company B?" Another, an officer, yelling at the top of his voice, "Fall in, company G." Another, "Rally on that yer artillery," and so on for five minutes, the whole reserve guard was in a wild clatter.
At last, they got into position, and became somewhat quiet. A small reconnoitering party ventured near the border of our camp, one exclaiming, "Fetch out yer Yanks." Another, "We're ready for you now."
Finding no signs of disturbance, the party withdrew. T-Upon inquiry, I found that three prisoners ran by the guard, and were fired at. The guard, supposing mutiny on the eve of breaking out, aroused their whole force, but only to find their alarms unfounded.

October 23, 1864
Sunday

Severe frost last night. We are having signs of the approach of winter, and few of us are prepared. The fires are nightly, the centres of a shivering group.
There have been a number of instances in this camp of gross injustice in the distribution of' supplies sent here for distribution by the sanitary commission. A few weeks ago, over one hundred quilts were received. If equitably distributed, they would have supplied nearly every destitute man in camp, or at least would have allowed one quilt to two. This, however, was not satisfactory to some. A colonel, for instance, whose name I forbear to mention, kept back about twelve for his own mess, which was well supplied before. Every morning the blankets can be seen hung about his tent airing. while there are upward of a hundred men who are obliged. to pass the nights hugging the fires, and sleep by day.
Lieutenant Young, [1] who was killed yesterday, was buried to-day. The funeral services were read by Lieutenant Ogden. [2] Thus another victim of treason and treachery lies buried far a way from home and friends. It is sad to think of this. How soon will the plowshare obliterate the ample mound which now marks his resting place!

October 25, 1864

A confederate soldier, caught stealing spoons, knives, forks, etc., during the evening roll call of prisoners, has been placed under arrest, his officers promising to punish him.
Lieutenant King [3] arrived in camp from hospital in town. He reports Union feelings, among the rebel soldiers, repeating a number of remarkable stories, told by them of what they intend doing. Not being credulous, we listen to-the lieutenant's story, because it is something new. and not because there is much confidence placed in it,

October 26, 1864
Wednesday

We commenced building a cabin for shelter against the approaching cold and storms of winter. For the past two weeks we have been "lugging" pine logs upon our shoulders from the woods, about a quarter of a mile distant. This was somewhat of task in our weakened state, and the accumulation of material was necessarily very slow.

October 27, 1864
Thursday

Commenced splitting slabs for roofing.

October 28, 1864
Friday

To-day we succeeded in putting up the sides and one end of our hut. It is now raining, the first we have had for twenty days. In our present quarters it is impossible to keep dry. We are soaking wet, and will have to remain so until the weather clears, and we can again start the fires. These rains are uncharitable things. How many poor fellows I can now see sitting without shelter, and but half clothed, taking the rain in all its fury! All the huts and tents are crowded with wet and steaming clusters of men. Such misery! I often long, in the parlance of the prisoners, "for some northern hog-pen." I hear a home-sick prisoner exclaiming, "I wish I was in my father's barn". Another sings out with a stoical indifference, 'Tis a place to be jolly iii." Another, with a mixture of irony and sincerity, remarks, "I want to go home." There are some cheerful spirits amongst us who make sport over everything. Without them it would be hard to survive this miserable place.

October 29, 1864
Saturday

Still raining, no fires, nothing to eat, wet and weary. The day passed never so slowly. No sleep at night. The same sas spectacle of men seated on the leeward side of a hut hugging their knees, the rain pelting them mercilessly.

October 30, 1864
Sunday

The clouds broke during the night, and the sun rose beautifully this morning. Details of men have returned with wood, and the fires are again burning. Many are down sick with colds and pnenmonia from the effects of the late exposure. A great many are laid up with hunger, the rain interfering with the supplies. This afternoon was spent in bringing logs and brush for our hut.

October 31, 1864
Monday

Suffered unusually from hunger to-day. Our labor in building we find very exhausting.

November 1, 1864
Tuesday

Received a letter from mother, dated September 25th. It is the only one that has reached me since May 1st. These always welcome missives of home are rendered doubly valuable in the isolation of prison life. To read them over and over again is a pleasurable way of wiling away the dull hours.

November 2, 1864
Wednesday

Last night an officer attempting to make his escape was wounded in the leg; several, however, under cover of the fire which he drew, were more successful.
To-day we occupied our hut, which turns out more comfortable than an exterior view would suggest. Its dimensions are seven feet by ten, and about six feet in height. The sides are well secured with mud, and the roof, which is inside of boughs, and earth, is a tolerable, protection from the weather. The internal conveniences are rather economical in variety, consisting principally of a platform of logs covering nearly the entire space within, and used for lounging on rainy days and a bed at night.

November, 1864
Thursday

The great event of to-day was a visit from a highly appreciated personage, an old porker. As he approached the camp, his movements were closely watched by about a hundred hungry fellows. No sooner had his porkship crossed the "dead line" than be was enthusiastically greeted by a popular demonstration. At least a hundred fell upon him, some seizing him by the tail and ears, and every other portion of the animal furnishing a handle. Those who were unable to lay bold plunged their knives into him and clubbed him, the hog meanwhile squealing to the full extent. The hog, unable to endure this treatment, soon expired, then came the contest for a share in the spoils; finally, however, it fell in small quantities into the bands of about fifty, and the cooking soon spread through the camp an odor of fresh meat, which had been foreign to -as for a long time.

November 4, 1864
Friday

To-day we have had considerable excitement on the subject of "counts". A short time since the number of officers confined in this prison was fifteen hundred, to--day but eleven hundred and sixty-four are all that can be accounted for. The cause of this deficit is the loose manner of paroling the men, who a short time since were permitted to go out alone for wood, provided they promised upon honor or oath that they would return. The applications were numerous, and the regulations not rigid. There were many who left the prison without. giving their parole. These left the camp for our lines, some, succeeding and others not.

November 5, 1864
Saturday

An officer who made his escape yesterday reached a distance of five miles on his journey, and returned for want of food and a blanket. Approaching a sentinel, the officer stated that he was an inmate of the hospital, and promised an order on another officer in camp for a new rubber blanket if the sentinel would give him his. The sentinel seized at- the chance, and gave the officer his blanket. The officer again started on his journey, and the sentinel, after a delinquent search, found he was the victim of a "Yankee trick!"

November 6, 1864
Sunday

Raining cold and unpleasant. Our frail domicile proves rather leaky. Those who are unprovided with any shelter at all, are commencing to feel the effects of their unfortunate condition. Colds, rheumatism, and lung diseases, are commencing to spread. After the terrible experience of last winter, I dread the coming of the present one.

November 7, 1864
Monday

Left the camp on parole. Walked to the factory. Not permitted to enter. Saw a large number of the female operatives. They are, I find, the best of the lower class, but greatly inferior in intelligence, good-looks, and taste in dress, to the-Northern factory girls. Towards prisoners they are generally kind, when an opportunity offers for them to show their feelings, though the rules are strict that they shall have nothing; to do with a "Yankee."
Returned to camp in the afternoon, feeling much benefited by the exercise and, fresh air in my rambles. The only obstacle to our happiness, comparatively speaking, is a very limited supply of food to meet the cravings of excellent appetites.

November 8, 1864
Tuesday

Over sixty escaped prisoners have been reclaimed up to this time, many bitten by hounds used in their pursuit. An officer named Murphy, [6] a perfect specimen of an Irishman, was brought in this morning. Ever since, he has been, narrating to an extensive and interested audience his perilous adventures and capture. He was out four days, and witnessed all sorts of sights, and passed through an infinite variety of hairbreadth escapes. Ho represents the people hospitable, but reports that they pick up every able-bodied man friend or foe who can not give a good account of himself. The country he represents uninviting, and difficult of travel.

November 10, 1864

November 10, 1864
Thursday

We are rapidly assuming the appearance of a winter encampment. More substantial "shebangs" than have answered the purpose of shelter during the summer are being erected.
The messes are each reduced five or six less in number, and work in common, carrying logs from the woods, a half mile distant. The sides of the winter "sebangs" are solid and secure, but the rooms, made of strips and brush, much expose the interior to the weather. Each "shebang" is provided with a chimney of wood, "cobbled,7 and lined with a clay-mud. All the-, crannies are filled in the same way, making every thing very close. Each place has one door, but no windows. However, by the time everybody is accommodated, we will have, if not the most beautiful, at all events, under the circumstances, the most comfortable quarters now in a Southern prison-camp.

November 11, 1864
Friday

Last night a man was shot, attempting to pass the guard. [4]

November 12, 1864
Saturday

More escaped prisoners brought in. All report, poor prospects of discovering a passage out of the country, on account of its intricacies of roads and rivers.

November 13, 1864
Sunday

A beautiful Sabbath. The weather clear and sparkling. The air rather cool and damp. We enjoy few opportunities of religious instruction. Everybody's religion here is to reach God's country, as the North is termed, as soon as possible.

November 16, 1864
Wednesday

Nothing new. Monotony, bad weather, nothing to eat, and every thing else to make our confinement irksome.

November 17, 1864
Thursday

Thinking about trying my fortune in an effort to escape; been revolving in my mind a number of plans, none of which seem to answer the purpose.

November 18, 1864
Friday

Had a conversation with Lieutenant G. M. Van Buren, 6th New York Cavalry, on the subject of escape. He agrees to be my companion. Passed the day in secret conversations on the subject. [5]

November 20, 1864
Sunday

Our plans of escape were ready to be carried into effect to-night, were delayed by the arrival of a box from home, containing shirts and stockings. This comes at a very appropriate time, as I as well as my companion were in need of such supplies for our journey.

November 22, 1864
Tuesday

The sun rose clear this morning, and everything turned out to facilitate our escape. The understanding was to pass the guard, singly. Bidding a quiet good-by to but two of our most intimate friends, we commenced our operations by a little maneuvering about the guard, to catch them without an officer. At the proper moment, -with my pass in band, haversack under my coat, containing a few necessary articles of food, a blanket thrown over my shoulders, and with two loaves of corn-bread in my hand, I approached the guard, handed him my papers, at the same time adding in the weakest voice at my command, that I wished to go to the "hospital where I belonged." The guard looked at the pass mechanically, looked at me, and then gave the document back, saying it was "all right." I crossed the line, and at once felt like another man, ready to undergo every privation and fatigue for liberty. I immediately hastened towards the hospital, where I was soon joined by the Captain. We remained about the hospital, but as much removed from attention as possible, until 7 o'clock p, m., when we set out on our uncertain journey, feeling strong and full of hope.