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A Guard at Andersonville
James Dunwody Jones, born on a plantation in Mcintosh County, Georgia, enlisted in the 8th Georgia Regiment at the age of 17. A skilied marksman, he distinguished himself at First Manassas, and won a battlefield promotion to lieutenant. At the end of the war he was a major. He wrote his memoirs some years after the war, and dedicated them with affection to his black servant Sim. Sim was with him during the four years of campaigning, nursed him to health each of the four times he was wounded, and at the end of the war went back with him to the plantation. The excerpt from his manuscript published here was fur-nished by Major Jones's daughter, Mrs. Mary J. Hillyer, New York.
In 1864 I was ordered to duty with troops at the famous prison camp at Andersonville, Georgia, in the capacity of drillmaster and ordnance officer. No doubt you have heard many stories of Andersonville, some true, some false. Andersonville was no worse than Northern prisons. There was suffering at Andersonville; there was also sufTering at John-son's Island; there were hardships in ail prisons. Thirty thou-sand men in a stockade are apt to suffer more or less.
The stockade consisted of about 16 to 20 acres with a 20-foot [actually 17-foot] wall of pine logs standing upright and embedded in the earth to a depth of 6 to 8 feet. The guards stationed on top of the wall overlooked the interior. The prisoners got fully as much, and as good rations as our guards. My servant Sim almost every day brought something from the cooks of the prison, who were paroled Federal soldiers, the cook house being outside the stockade. Sim often 'urought, from these cooks, ham, bacon, and beef for our use, when I could not draw a pound for myself from the quarter-master. And may I ask, whose fault was it that there was no exchange of prisoners? We would gladly have given 10 for 1 (and we had them to give) but no! The policy of the Federal government was to exhaust the South. That was General [U.S.] Grands policy; and the only one that was a success.
While at Andersonville I witnessed the hanging of six Federal prisoners by the prisoners inside the stockade, an action for which Captain [Henry] Wirz should have been held blameless. The executed men were robbers and murderers of their fellow captives, and were on the eve of being lynched by the latter when Captain Wirz went in at the risk of his life and the lives of the men with him, rescued the accused, and placed them under guard outside the stockade. But this was only a compromise. The feeling against the accused was so bitter that the other prisoners said, "We will tear down the walls and come out and get them." Captain Wirz knew that they could do it, for the Confederate guards were undisci-plined boys and old men.
One of my duties was inspection of guards. I found that of the 500 muskets carried by men going ori sentry duty, not over 100 could have been fired. I had spoken to Captain Wirz of the inefliciency of the guard; consequently he knew he could not depend on them in case of a revolt of the prisoners.
So he was forced to make an agreement with the prisoners, as foliows: Captain Wirz would continué in charge of the robbers until they were called for trial, the/to be tried by a judge and jury selected from within the stockade, and under the laws of Georgia. If the accused were acquitted, Wirz was to send them to another prison camp. If thev were convicted, he. was to turn them over to the other prisoners for execution. Wirz also furnished one of the bastions of the stockade as a court room and placed Georgia law books at the disposal of the court. Lawyers from among the prisoners were selected to serve the prosecution and defense.
Court was opened, and jurors were drawn. Each accused was tried, and as there were quite a number, the trial lasted [about ten days]. Six were found guilty of murder and con-demned to death by hanging.
Demand was made on Captain Wirz for the six guilty men. Where the prisoners got the lumber to build the gal-lows, or the rope for the executioner, I know not, as Wirz re-fused to furnish anything of the kind. [Jones is in error. Captain Wirz provided lumber for the scaffold.] Fulfilling his promise, on execution day he marched the condemned men under a separate guard into the stockade. I was one of the few who obtained a pass to occupy a sentry box to witness the exe-cutions, and I was quite near the scaffold. I will never forget that sea of upturned faces, nor the old captain on his gray horse, speaking in his broken English, saying, "Men, accord-ing to de promise what I make, I turn ober dese mens to you. But I beg you to giff me de life ob dese mens, and I will mofe dem where you newar see dem no more."
Twenty thousand voices shouted, "No! No!"
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