was very reluctant in agreeing to write out some of his reminiscences of the imprisonment of the 600 at Morris Island
While a great portion of his time has been devoted to journalism since the war, he has written very little about the conflict between the States, nor does he talk much about it. The whole of his time is now given to the practice of law, and he is doing well in this profession.
The narrative written by Captain Frayser
In August, 1864, orders were issued by the Federal Government that 600 Confederate officers confined at Fort Delaware should should be sent to Morris Island, near Charleston, S. C., and placed under fire.
There had been sent previously fifty general and field officers to the same point for the same purpose.— But after some little delay these officers were exchanged.
The 600 were somewhat elated at first, thinking they too would very soon be in “Dixie,” after leaving Fort Delaware.
But in this they were greatly disappointed.
On the arrival of the Crescent City, the steamer that conveyed them to Charleston harbor, these officers were disembarked and marched along the beach to a most formidable stockade, located between batteries Gregg and Wagner, all in full view of Fort Sumter, which resembled at that day a huge brick kiln.
It had withstood some terrific attacks, but in this dismantled condition the Confederate flag still waved triumphantly over this impregnable fortress.
The first night in the pen was not at all pleasant, firing commenced early that night, and fragments of Confederate shell thrown from Fort Moultrie fell in the pen.
The Confederates at the time were not aware of the presence of the Confederate prisoners, but they soon learned that the Confederate prisoners were exposed to the fire of Fort Moultrie, and there was a change in the guns at that fort.
The dead line was a conspicuous feature in the appointments of this abode, where the six hundred lingered for forty-five days, suffering all the pangs of hunger that one can imagine; two ounces of salt pork or beef, with damaged ship bread, in a very limited quantity, and that inhabited with worms, ranging from a quarter to half an inch long, with black heads.
When this was not given to the prisoners, they had doled out to them, stale grit with abundance of fat worms.
These dainties given to the Confederates twice a day, made many sick, who were sent to the hospital, where they died.
The death rate was alarming, with cruel treatment, the climate, and miserable water, the weak had to succumb to the inevitable.
Forty-five days on such food was harsh treatment indeed.
The reader may ask, what was all this for?
Well, for ‘fighting against the best government the world ever saw.’