Photographs
Union Prison Railcar Transport, Chattanooga, Tennessee
Though not the first major conflict to be photographed, images of the Civil War provided the ability to capture the bloodiest battles to ever occur on American soil. While images of battles and war-torn soldiers have become infamous, photographers also captured scenes of prisoners and prisoner life after the dust settled. Confederate soldiers in Union custody traveled to prisons in the North. In this photograph, captured by an unknown photographer and held in the Library of Congress’ collection, Confederate prisoners await transport by railcar. This photograph was taken after the September-November 1863 Battle of Chattanooga in Ten
nessee, according to Library of Congress information. The photo, which was most likely taken in 1864 as Sherman began his infamous “March to the Sea,” reveals the primary method of transportation used by the Union when dealing with a large-scale incarceration. Union soldiers stand on the left side of the frame, identifiable by their
weapons (of which prisoners were stripped) and uniforms, guarding Confederate soldiers. The captured Confederates are left physically unrestrained and well-clothed in a huddle, as they await boarding onto the train cars seen in the center-rear of the photograph. The men standing both
on the far right and in the rear, near the train depot, are most likely guards as well, watching the prisoners to ensure their smooth transition onto the train cars.
The use of train cars represented the most practical method of transportation for thousands of men across a large portion of the country. Though prisoners most often left in good condition, as seen in the photograph, the long journey was an arduous one. This photograph provides an example of soldiers entering the final year of the Civil War, and the condition they left the battlefield in on their way to prison camps. The conditions at prisons varied in the Union. While some used and maintained permanent structures for prisons, many used tents, such as Elmira in New York.
Elmira Prison, Elmira, New York
This photo, also from the Library of Congress’ collection, dates from between 1864 and 1865. Elmira prison camp, in Elmira, New York, was popularly referred to as “Hellmira” in a reference to the supposedly hellish conditions of the prison. The photography, taken by an unknown photographer, depicts Elmira from the outside of one of the prison walls. A Union soldier walks the planks on the wall, overlooking large gatherings of
Confederate prisoners, armed with a long rifle. Though the time of year is not depicted, the leafless tree in the foreground suggests the photo is from between October and April, perhaps on a colder day as smoke rises from a chimney in the background. Much of the Confederate propaganda regarding Union prison camps suggested conditions were abysmal and little to no shelter was provided for prisoners.
This photograph suggests otherwise, as prisoners appear to have lived in either rows of tents or the more substantial structures in the background. The six visible rows of white tents are intermingled with and equal number of prisoner groups. The prisoners, upon close inspection, appear to be organized and lined up as if for inspection. Most face the same direction and do not appear to be engaged with each other. Such strict order may have hurt the reputation of Elmira prison, as strict order could lead to conflict with disorderly prisoners.
The condition of individual troops is difficult to surmise from this photograph. Prisoners appear to hang their clothes on top of their tents, as is seen in several rows, suggesting they had at least a change of clothing, or perhaps were hanging a blanket—confirming Union reports that blankets were provided to Confederate prisoners of war. The conditions depicted in this photo cannot completely refute reports of Elmira as a particularly harsh and hellish prison camp. However, the orderly condition of prison structures, as well as the organized nature of the prisoners, does discredit the notion of Elmira as a chaotic, lawless cesspool.
Newspaper Reports and Letters
Gallery of Newspaper Reports and Letters
Letter from Elmira Prisoner
On September 8, 1864 an unnamed Confederate soldier wrote to the Daily True Delta in New Orleans, Louisiana to reflect on his captivity at the Union’s Elmira Prison Camp in Elmira, New York. This source is vital as it depicts a Confederate soldier’s view of their treatment at the hands of the Union whilst still in custody. Many accounts of Elmira and other Union prison camps are reflections from after the Civil War ended in 1865. This letter to the Daily True Delta provides a contemporary understanding of prison life, as viewed and communicated by a Confederate solider.
The anonymous solider began his letter to a “friend” by revealing that he had “skedaddled” to the Union, having informed his captors that he was willing to “take the oath and become a good sober and loyal citizen of the United States.” The anonymous solider never detailed the reasoning behind his defection, though by this time the tides had turned in favor of the Union. He explains that, though he had promised to take the oath of commitment and loyalty to the Union, required to be welcomed back, his requests to do so failed. The solider pleads with his “friend” to “get me out of this dilemma.” This aspect of the anonymous solider makes this letter a historical curiosity, as the soldier’s open admission of defecting from the Confederacy brings into question why he would send such a letter. The Daily True Delta explained the author originally mailed the letter to a “gentleman in [New Orleans],” who was the “friend” of whom the soldier spoke. As New Orleans returned to Union hands early in the war during 1862, the city would have been a legitimate and safe destination for such a letter. The solider, hailing from New Orleans perhaps, looked to Southerners who were in Union-loyal territory to intercede in his precarious circumstances. Though a Confederate soldier appealing to a Southern city at first appears illogical, the peculiar circumstances of New Orleans elucidate this soldier’s motivation.
After explaining the circumstances of his capture, the soldier explains his current situation within Elmira. He tells the reader “winter is coming” and he remains “naked and shoeless,” adorned with only one set of clothing, all of which is “torn in shreds.” The solider then goes on to denigrate the Confederacy, arguing that his poor treatment of Elmira is an unjust result for “upwards of three years of service” to the CSA. The anonymous soldier affirmed his “nakedness” a second time, making it clear that the coming winter is threatening to exposed prisoners. The soldier’s hope to pledge loyalty to the Union makes it unlikely that his description of Elmira would be motivated by a negative bias, unlike with other Confederate inmates at “Hellmira”. This letter arose from the most unique of circumstances, and highlights the struggles of Confederate inmates in Union prison camps, as well as the difficulty prisoners endured, even while attempting to pledge loyalty to the Union.
Letter from an Elmira Prison Guard
On October 9, 1864, the New York Times ran a letter titled “The Rebels at Elmira: A Letter from One of the Guard, Guarding Prisoners of War at Elmira, N.Y.” The author, only referred to as a “Private of the Guard” wrote of the conditions at Elmira Prison Camp, refuting many of the rumors of maltreatment on behalf of the guards overseeing Confederate prisoners. He begins, in his Letter-to-the-Editor by saying guards at Elmira had been “disgusted at the maliciousness of an article from the columns of your Copperhead contemporary, the New York Express.” The guard rejected the “untruths” spread, including specifics regarding overcrowding and prisoner-guard relationship dynamics.
The Copperhead-authored article (to which this letter-to-the-editor responds), argued that too many Confederate prisoners die daily, with “twenty-seven…[deaths] reported on Saturday, and eighteen on Wednesday.” The unnamed guard rejects this number, saying “the average deaths among the rebels is twelve a day,” not the high-rates the Copperhead relayed. The guard also rejected the notion that rebel prisoners were given poor accommodations, saying they have “exactly the same kind of tends that we United States soldiers are using.” He goes on to say that though they are intended for four men, five can fit comfortably as is often done at Elmira. The guard goes on to confirm that prison authorities are making preparations for the winter, saying that it is in fact the guards who have gone without shelter, especially during storms. Near the end of his rebuttal, the guard also rejects the assumption that prisoners are left to idly waste away, saying that the rebels are being put to work in improving camp facilities. He assures readers that those who work are given “five cents and extra rations” in return for their labor, which ended in the early afternoon. The guard ends his letter by affirming “we take good care of their sick, in buildings which are secured against sun and shower, wind and cold, and feed them…”
In penning this response to the Copperhead author, and other critics of Union prison policy, this unnamed guard clearly aimed to relay information from the vantage of a man on the ground, not an official or man high on the chain of command. His technical and factual breakdown of camp life and provisions stands in contrast to the vague descriptions provided by the letter from the anonymous Elmira prisoner from September, 1864. Allegations of maltreatment on behalf of Union sentries and prison guards fueled angst and tension during the Civil War and afterward, thus a candid letter from a prison guard provides needed clarification. The Library of Congress image of Elmira Prison Camp, depicting rows of tents and barracks seems to confirm many aspects of this guard’s letter. The picture depicts guards with minimal shelter from the elements, while prisoners stand between what appears to be an orderly arrangement of tents and barracks. The guard’s decision to send a letter to the editor of the New York Times reflects the deep tension rumors of maltreatment stirred during the Civil War. This letter, in both its existence and content, provides a candid look into the propaganda war taking place alongside bloody conflict.
Prisoner transport to Elmira Prison Camp by railcar
A Chicago Tribune brief from July 26, 1864 describes the aftermath of a railway accident, in which 148 Confederate soldiers, in transport to Elmira, died in a railway collision. The article describes the aftermath, in which the surviving 800 soldiers were brought to Elmira on a different train, completing the arduous journey bruised and injured. The description of a such a unique event in the history of the Union prison system during the Civil War is historically valuable, for it reveals the dangers present not only in camp life, but in transport across wide swaths of the country. The article is short on description of Confederate injuries, instead using an entire paragraph to describe the condition of Union guards and soldiers who were injured in the incident.
This brief is an excellent example of implicit biases in the journalism of the day. The author depicts the Union guards as “comfortably removing” wounded Confederate soldiers from rail cars, as surgeons made “their condition…as comfortable as possible.” Descriptions of Union guards and their untimely demise in the railway accident are far more graphic, with individual descriptions of guards and their fate. The difference in description is characteristic of the journalism of the day, especially surrounding the issue of the Civil War prison system. For Union writers, sympathetic to the Union cause, painting the government as taking good care of Confederate prisoners, especially after such a macabre incident, served as an attempt to lessen the view of Union prisons as innately hellish.
The railway accident en route to Elmira serves as a historical example of the dangers present in all aspects of the Civil War prion system. However, this incident also serves to illustrate the manner in which an unintentional disaster could be skewed to play to certain audiences, whether favorably or not. The description of sympathetic and caring Union guards, who lost their lives tragically in the incident (in far fewer numbers than Confederates) contradicts the narrative portrayed by Southern prisoners and newspapers. As the letter from the prison guard at Elmira Prison Camp, this article follows the trend of rejecting the “untruths” spread by both Copperhead Democrats and the Confederacy. The Union would have to respond to such a mass loss of life of unarmed prisoners very carefully, as an incident such as this created the potential for a powder keg response, both within and outside the Union.
Memoir
Rebel’s Experience at Camp Chase, Ohio
John H. King’s 1904 memoir, Three Hundred Days in a Yankee Prison depicts the author’s days as a prison of the Union during the Civil War at Camp Chase in Ohio. King spends much of the introduction discussing the treatment of prisoners by the Union, rejecting the popular narrative that Andersonville and other Confederate prisons were hellish by design. The author says, of the Union, “there could be no possible excuse for starving [Confederate soldiers], since they were in a land of abundance” (King, 11). He credits his survival in what he describes as intentionally harsh conditions, as well as that of his compatriots, to “the intervention of a divine providence” (12). After discussing his fighting under General Bragg in Kentucky during the year 1862, King describes the circumstances of his capture, as well as the conditions of prison life in detail (27).
On January 27, 1864, a bullet hit King under the chin in a battle around Seviersville, Tennessee (King, 55). King provides some of his most valuable testimony in describing the manner in which Union soldiers took him into custody. Once found, soldiers first examined his wounds, offering him water before finally calling a surgeon who “roughly examined the wound” before saying that he “had the wounded of his army to look after” (57). Though King’s wounds were severe, and he was in the custody of the Union army, the surgeon prioritized his own men first. The soldiers allowed him to stay overnight in the cabin of a young woman, who helped comfort him from his extreme pain, before Union troops arrived in the morning and took him into custody formally “without the slightest regard for [his] suffering” (62).
Though King painted a brutish picture of most Union soldiers, he occasionally found a Union man who he depicted as being kind to his suffering. After the first man who allowed him water on the battlefield, King found a sympathetic soul in his ambulance driver, who “was quite an exception to the class of ruffians who had been [his] guards and tormentors” (King, 65). King did not have any kind feelings for black Union soldiers, providing a valuable contemporary account of interaction between Union prisoners and black soldiers. The author describes “the insolence of the negro soldiers, who…were not slow in letting us know that they were now our masters” (68). Such a description is of invaluable historical importance, as the role reversal described would have been jarring for Confederate prisoners, whose fate now rested in the hands of white and black soldiers of the Union.
When waiting for transport by railcar to Camp Chase, in a process similar to the photograph of soldiers waiting at a railway depot above, King described civilians denigrating Confederate troops with shouts of “Look at the dirty, ragged Rebels” (King, 70). The author describes his pride in his rags, as well as his position as a Rebel to the Union. Moreover, he described the root of his cause as rejecting the Union’s disgrace of the Constitution and ignorance of the law of God. Even upon reflection in 1904, forty years after his capture, King believed the Confederacy to be in the right, which it appears his imprisonment only reinforced.
Once at Camp Chase, King described a gloomy setting, in which Confederate soldiers were adorned with rags, as “all Confederate soldiers at this period of the war, without blankets or over-coats…” (King, 73). The photograph of Elmira Camp, in Elmira, New York contradicts this conclusion, as that image, from the same period, shows prisoners in both coats and with blankets. It is possible that the proximity of Camp Chase to the battlefields of the border states and South created a propensity for poorer conditions upon arrival from battle; regardless, the stark contrast draws comparisons with how Union guards (such as in the aforementioned letter) and Confederate soldiers described Union prison camps.
King’s description of camp conditions is fairly standard, as he describes being poorly clothed and fed, suffering most in the winter months from cold. However, his interactions with prison guards reveal a great deal of tension, contradicting the testimony of Union prison guards. King describes one incident, during which a guard saw a prisoner violate an order to not throw water around the pump, and “at once fired at him and missing his aim severely wounded an unlucky prisoner” who lost his leg to amputation (King, 80). Such maiming occupied much of the propaganda the Confederacy used to depict Union prisons as harsh and unforgiving. King later describes inmates who were actually planted Union spies, sent to infiltrate and root out escape attempts, which were met with harsh retribution (83).
King’s description of prison life at Camp Chase is historically valuable due to his detailing of idiosyncrasies forced by life in the environment. Conflict between soldiers and guards was logically inevitable, but nevertheless illuminates the stories which enraged southerners. His description of passing time in these confines, resorting to such oddities as having vermin (e.g. lice) fight each other, depicts the manner with which Confederate soldiers passed the hours in Union custody (King, 93). King makes it clear that he views the Union as having purposefully made the lives of prisoners hellish and brutal. His view of the Confederacy as suffering from oppression combines views of a Confederate prisoner held in Union custody in an infamous camp, as well as the hindsight of a deeply committed Southerner, writing forty years after the conclusion of the war (109).
The Civil War Prison System 
