Erna Nonato

Period 8/ Newmark

Social Studies/ 3/13/00

From a bird’s eye view, all you see is a pigpen in which an innumerable bundle of pitiful brown sticks lay. What little stench the pigpen expels that can reach you at your high altitude makes you want to retch. Below, your ears are assailed by sounds of sickness and disease; the hoarse coughing of men, the whimpering of those that are still new to the camp—dreaming the sweet dreams of home and unreality. Predominant through it all were the constant, busy buzzing of the flies that flitted around the stockade as numerous as the men with which they shared it. You demand an explanation for the horrible conditions you see? You wonder what this place is? Welcome to Andersonville.

The answer as to why men were treated in such an inhumane manner is simple. In the winter of 1863-1864, the great hero, General Grant, knowing that the Confederacy has indeed reached the end of its line—in resources and manpower—has refused to continue the prisoner-exchange system. This system, enables soldiers to get out of prison and return to their respective homes, if they swear never to lift a gun, and serve in the war again. "Unconditional Surrender" Grant, had, from the depths of his sly wisdom, deemed that refusing the continuation of the prisoner-exchange system would limit the number of valiant Confederate soldiers that his army would have to face. This may be beneficial for the war itself, but to many Union soldiers held up in the Southern prison camps, it meant that they would never see home again.

The concentration of prisoners in the South was in Richmond, Virginia. This had the effect of draining the small local food supply, and made this area a source of weakness, should the North attack. And so, to relieve Virginia of its masses of prisoners, a new prison site was founded at the heart of Georgia. During November 1863, an inconsequential Captain W. Sidney Winder, was sent to the village of Andersonville, located in Sumter County. Its deep South location, close proximity to the Southwestern Railroad, the presence of water, and the population of less than twenty persons inhabiting the tiny village of Andersonville, (and therefore lacking the manpower needed to protest the building of such a distasteful structure), made the area a desirable prison location. A Captain Richard B. Winder was sent for to design and construct the prison. Arriving in the late December of 1863, the parameters set for the prison was approximately 16.5 acres—large enough to hold a maximum of ten thousand prisoners. It was solemnly dubbed, "Camp Sumter", the harmless name striking no ominous feeling of doom, of what the captured Union soldiers were to suffer there.

To give a brief, dispassionate description of Camp Sumter, it could be said that it is shaped like a rectangle, with a small, sluggish stream running roughly through the center of the camp, which in irony of ironies, is called Sweetwater Creek. In January 1864, trees were felled and ditches were dug for the prison stockade. To manage this feat, were slaves impressed from local farms. Cut square and on site were the pine logs—the material used to cage the Union soldiers, like so many wild animals. There was a wall trench dug five feet deep, on which the hewn logs were set in a vertical position. The finished stockade was approximately 1,010 feet long and 780 feet wide, with the poles being 8-12 inches deep, to ensure that the pen securely holds the captured men with only a resourceful few escaping. The worry that the prisoners might escape plagued the South little, for they maltreated their prisoners so that some will barely move, and pass the long, unchanging days undoubtedly dreaming of home, food, and comfort. A dead line was built, approximately 19-25 feet in length, inside the sturdy stockade. It is an appropriate name, for whosoever wish to stay alive do not dare cross it. Sentries will shoot them from what is almost a little stockade area itself, inside the stockade wall called "pigeon roosts". As many as two haggard prisoners a day, cross this dead line to end their own life deliberately, their poor souls tormented with the thought of living in this hole forever.

The West Side of the stockade has two gates that were thirty feet square and had heavy doors. One of the gates doors open to the freedom of the Outside, and the other opens into the dismal prison. In late February, 1864, prisoners began to arrive, and by early June, the prison was filled beyond its maximum capacity. It was filled to bursting with the staggering amount of 20,000 prisoners! Work began to enlarge the present prison by mid-June to accommodate the burgeoning flood of prisoners. The walls were lengthened to 610 feet on its North wall (ten acres), and the prison area became 26.5 acres. The workers were the weak prisoners themselves (the strongest they could afford), with 108 whites, and 30 blacks. It is a testimony to the ill treatment of those in charge of the prison, that on July 1, 1864, the prisoners used the original North wall for precious warmth, and makeshift shelters.

On July 20, 1864, because of the threat of Union raids, (the estimable Sherman and his troops having been heard to march on to Atlanta, Georgia, encountering no solid opposition), defensive buildings were constructed around Andersonville. The middle and outer stockades were built, and earthworks defense consisted of the Star Fort—southwest of the prison. A redoubt (another type of earthwork defense), was built northwest of the North gates and six redans were built. The middle and outer stockades were not built as sturdily, and as carefully as the Inner stockade, because haste must be exercised if you have the fear of Union raids to fuel your fumbling hands. In early September, when Sherman’s troops occupied Atlanta, the threat of a magnificent Union raid resulted in the prisoners being transferred into other prison camps throughout Georgia and South Carolina. With the exception of 1,500 men, prisoners were shipped out of Andersonville in mid-November, but there was an increase in the number of people kept in Andersonville in late December. Thankfully, the number of men increased only as high as 5,000 prisoners in total.

Hearing about the objective history of this notorious prison cannot even convey the horrors that it inflicted on its prisoners for life. The prison conditions were so abominable, and the men were so starved, with their sallow skin fitting tightly over their brittle frames. The shape of their bones, their skeletal structure can be hauntingly seen on their bodies. Their eyes are hollow pits of despair, dull and shadowed from the most disgusting things that they have seen. Over 13,000 prisoners died at Andersonville, and it was because of the overcrowding, the exposure, the disease and filth in which the Union soldiers were forced to live with, the lack of food, the lack of clothing, and the lack of proper medical care. So many souls lacking the necessities, the basic comforts…

By August 1864, there were 32,000 prisoners at Andersonville Prison. In a prison designed to hold only a maximum of 10,000 men, it was hard to move without jostling, and getting jostled back in return. The prison was an open space, with not even stunted, crooked little trees growing within the confined space, and had no natural shelter of any kind. The men were left alone, on the presumption that they can procure suitable shields against the dismal rain, the bitter cold, the biting wind, and the scorching sun. Very few prisoners had even the remnants of shoes, going barefoot on the rough sand, which was the soil for the compound. Fewer than 2,000 fortunate soldiers even have coats or pants—those having them being the latecomers. More than one-half of the prisoners were indecently exposed, and it was not uncommon to see naked men within the camp. Little or unbelievably inedible food, caused malnutrition, the daily rations being a measly eight ounces of corn bread, and two ounces of tough, sour pork. Twice a week, the poor prisoners get a ration of rice—the exciting amount of two tablespoons, as a replacement for the pork, and two tablespoons of molasses.

With little food, many prisoners contracted diseases due to the lack of vitamins and etc… What added and helped spread disease was also the filth in which the soldiers were forced to live with. Sweetwater Creek, 5-6 feet wide, with ankle-deep water, passes through the camps of the guards before entering the stockade. Disgusting materials thrown carelessly polluted the water, even before it reaches the prisoners. Located near the middle of the prison, the stream spreads out into a swamp of approximately 6 acres. The water is unnaturally dark, filled with refuse, wood, stumps, and other camp debris. It constantly undulated, a moving, breathing thing due to the bacteria grown by the men’s habits. This extremely repulsive liquid, is also the men’s drinking water and water used for cooking. Often you see prisoners trying futilely, to filter some of the filth out by using the shirts on their backs, the pieces left over from what were once haversacks, and blouses. Digging wells for water as a substitute for Sweetwater Creek, proved excruciating, for it resulted in extreme diarrhea for the next few days. Yes, diseases such as scurvy, dysentery, and diarrhea ran rampant throughout the camp with no sign of ceasing. Many prisoners contract one or more of these diseases each month, and so the soldiers not only have to shoulder the discomfort of the close proximity of other’s bodies, exposure to the elements, and starvation, but also have to heft the weight of filth and disease.

Many newcomers to Andersonville often ask, "Is this h—l?", and soon come to find out that its probably as close to it as you will get, while you are still alive. This is Andersonville, with its thick walls, and despondent atmosphere. Where there were disease and filth aplenty, along with all the discomforts you can possibly imagine.