to leave, for any purpose, since our hazardous exploits at Charlotte.

The provost marshal of Augusta is a degenerate son of Governor Bradford, of Maryland. This graceless youth afterwards led a dastardly band of guerillas to his father's residence, and plundered the home of his childhood.

In contemplating such characters one is forcibly reminded of their description by an inspired apostle, who says: "For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers of those that are good, traitors," etc., and thus continues the truthful and terrible delineation of the character of thousands, who, before the Rebellion, were even peaceful citizens and kind neighbors, but whom treason has made odious and abominable.

BETWEEN AUGUSTA AND MACON, GA., May 16. About eight o'clock in the morning we started for Macon, and at a halt made on the way, for water and fuel, several of our number made their escape. Lieutenant Kellogg, Fifth Michigan Cavalry, climbed up into a water-tank, and was fortunately unnoticed when the train moved on. But his liberty was of short duration, for he was afterward recaptured, and made one of our number again. During the whole night we moved slowly on towards Macon.

CHAPTER VII.

66

AT MACON GEORGIA.- CAMP OGLETHORPE.'

99

WE reached Macon at eight o'clock on the evening of May seventeenth, 1864.

Two long files of sneaking, stay-at-home Georgia militia extended from the cars to the Prison Pen, and between them we were marched into Camp Oglethorpe.

On our arrival at the front gate whom should we find but the veritable Major Thomas P. Turner, fiend incarnate, from Libby Prison. This human monster stood at the gate to count us as we passed in. To his great chagrin forty-seven of our original number were missing, all of whom had escaped from the cars. He drew us up in line, and informed us of the prison regulations, especially that any man would be shot who approached the "dead line." He soon afterwards returned to Richmond. His object in coming to Macon was, I presume, to give the authorities some instruction in regard to the treatment of Federal prisoners, and they showed themselves apt scholars.

The Prison Pen takes its name from General Oglethorpe, an early settler of Georgia. It is about eighty rods east of the city, and covers an area of a little more than two acres. The enclosure is surrounded by a stockade fence about fifteen feet high,

near the top of which projects a platform whereon the sentinels are stationed. Within the stockade, and at a distance of fifteen feet from it, is the dead line, extending entirely around the camp. This consists of an ordinary picket-fence three and a half feet high. In many Prison Pens of the South it is only a line of stakes, with sometimes a single board attached. Camp Oglethorpe was made expressly for our reception, and had never before been occupied.

Macon is situated on the Ocmulgee River in the central part of the State, about four hundred and fifty miles from Danville, our last place of imprisonment. It is finely located, has a population of about ten thousand, and is at present one of the most stirring and important towns in the South. It is one hundred and sixty miles from Augusta, and one hundred miles from Atlanta. Two daily newspapers, the "Macon Confederate" and "Telegraph," are published here.

Since leaving Richmond my health has been very poor, owing, doubtless, to the various changes to which we have been subjected. Besides, the cars in which we were transported were extremely filthy, and as they were kept constantly closed, the air was very impure. The heat, also, is getting to be intense during the day, and its effects are telling on the strength of the men.

NEW ARRIVALS.

On the morning of the twentieth one hundred and seven officers from Grant's army arrived, to take up their abode in the Prison Pen. Among them are

Generals Shayler and Seymour.

As soon as the

"fresh-fish"* arrived the cry ran through the camp, and a general rush was made for the gate. An eager group surrounded each man, and our appearance was quite as strange to them as theirs to us. Generally their first question was, "Are you Federals or Confederates?" there being little in our appearance to make the question unnecessary.

The process of initiation was very disgusting to most of them. While some would be seriously asking questions concerning their capture and listening to their pitiful story, others would call out, "Take your fingers out of his haversack;" "Keep that louse off him;" "Give him air," etc. All this affected them strangely at first, but soon became an old story. They brought very welcome news concerning the movements of our armies.

There are at present about twelve hundred of our officers confined here, four hundred of whom were captured since the commencement of the campaign in front of Richmond.

FIRING UPON A PRISONER.

Early on the morning of the twenty-second Lieutenant H. P. Barker, First Rhode Island Cavalry, was fired upon by one of the sentinels-a boy not more than fourteen years of age. The youth missed his aim, however, and his ball buried itself in a tree a little beyond. The lieutenant is quite an old man.

* The first six months of prison life, an officer is called a "fresh-fish; "the next four months, a 66 sucker;" the next two months, a "dry cod; " the balance of his time, a "dried herring;" and after exchange, a "pickled sardine.”

Looking across the intermediate space, to the boy, he coolly said,-

"Young man, what are you shooting at?"

d

"I am shooting at you, you d―d old cuss," was the reply.

"And what are you shooting at me for?"

"Because you had your hands on the dead-line," said the boy.

At this moment two other guards came up, and one of them taking the boy by the collar and shaking him thoroughly, demanded,—

"What are you shooting at that prisoner for, you dd little scoundrel?"

The boy replied, "Because he had his hands on the dead-line."

The guard shook him again, and told him he was a liar, as the man was not within twenty feet of the dead-line, and then called the corporal of the guard, who marched the precocious monster away. If any punishment was administered to him, we never heard of it.

I was lying within ten feet of Lieutenant Barker when the shot was fired, and am certain that he was at least thirty feet distant from the fatal line.

TUNNELING.

May 29.-We received notice this morning from Captain W. K. Tabb, present commandant of the prison, that in the future, all prisoners not in ranks at roll-call, will be shot down by the sentinels on the stockade.

We have also received orders to take our boards