Johnson's Island — the Confederate prisoners there.
Johnson's Island, the new Yankee prison, not heard of till lately in the
Confederate States, is thus described in the Chicago
Tribune:
‘
This beautiful island, which the rebels and the Copperheads call "
Lincoln's Bastile," is situated in the bosom of
Lake Erie, near the west end, and in full view of
Sandusky city,
Ohio.
’
Immediately after the commencement of the war the
United States rented thirty acres of land lying southwest and facing upon the bay, at an annual cost of $690, during the continuance of the rebellion.
They then enclosed fourteen acres with a board fence fourteen feet high, erecting within two rows of barracks which, with other buildings, officers' and soldiers' quarters, hospital and commissary accommodations, cost $40,000.
By the side of the fence, four feet from the top, a platform is erected, four feet wide, that is patrolled by sentinels continually.--The number upon it is eighteen, who are relieved every two hours, each soldier performing eight hours guard duty each twenty-four hours, with loaded guns.
They watch the movements of prisoners continually.
If one passes beyond prescribed limits he is ordered to "hall." If he obeys, well; if the command is disregarded the soldier fires with deliberate aim at the breast.
The prisoner fully understands that he "disobeys an order at his peril."
Although between five and six thousand rebel prisoners have been confined on this island since the commencement of the rebellion, not one has yet escaped.
The grounds prepared by the
Government possess more comforts in the purity of atmosphere, open space, large sleeping apartments, and facilities for bathing and cleanliness, than any other prison in the
United States.
So extensively is this fact known in the rebel army that large numbers, when captured, express an earnest desire "to be sent to
Johnson's Island," rather than be confined at any other place.
At the northeast and southeast corners of the enclosure are two blockhouses, each containing a 12-pounder howitzer, which are constantly loaded and manned by six men. The guns are so situated that they can be directed to any desired point.
The gates upon the south side are opened and the prisoners, in squads, permitted to go to the lake shore, where they can walk eight rods upon the rocks, with the water not more than five feet deep.
Each in turn once in four days visits the lake if he chooses, and good swimmers have an opportunity to test their skill in aquatic exercises, taking care to keep within the range of the guard's gun, always at command, should any attempt to reach the opposite shore, three miles distant.
The island has a garrison of four hundred soldiers under the command of
Major Pearson, who has had charge of the island since it became a rendezvous for prisoners.
Dr. Woodbridge is the
Surgeon,
Mr. McCuue Chaplain, and
E. A. Keeth,
Steward.
Generals Archer and
Jones are the only rebel officers now on the island holding that rank.
General Jones is a Virginian by birth, and was captured at the
battle of Gettysburg.
His brother is a merchant at
St. Paul, Minnesota.
Colonel Humphrey, captured at Champion's Station, Mississippi, owns three plantations at
Port Gibson, worth more than $3,000,000. Many others are men of larger property.
In the cells are nine men confined under sentence of death.
Seven of these are spies and two deserters.
The Pinch of the battle at Gettysburg--how near it came to a Confederate Victory.
The Baltimore
American publishes an account of "The Pinch of the Battle" at
Gettysburg, which gives a history of that terrible assault on the centre by the
Confederates which came so near winning the day. The charge of
Pickett's division is well described, and the description shows that if the charge had been supported, the day would have been ours.
The writer, a Yankee soldier, who was engaged in the fight on the heights, says:
‘
After an hour and a half of such firing as I have described, we could see, from where we stood, the enemy moving up in three lines from out of the woods.
They would come out, marching by flank, till they reached the desired ground, when they would face to the front.
Their second line was about a hundred yards in the rear of the first, and on the edge of the woods, across the valley, was a third line.
It was a splendid sight to see them.
No one looked at their uniforms or no uniforms, their hats, or caps, or bare heads.
Everybody looked at the beautiful way in which they arrayed themselves in order of attack, regardless of the shot and shell which we threw into their ranks.
The soldiers on our side again and again praised, while they awaited the approach of the enemy.
Nor did they wait long.
When they approached to within about two hundred yards, a part of our division, I think it was
Hall's brigade, opened fire, and we could see men fall and others go to the rear.
Still on they came, crowding a little in front, but as steady as rocks.
Just then an officer rode by and said the
Vermont regiment on the left was worrying the enemy.
But they did not mind that either; on they came.
When they got within a hundred yards, more of our regiments opened fire; but it did not stop them.
Some regiments reserved their fire till they got within fifty yards, and then the enemy fell fast; but still on they came, and we could see their faces and hear their officers.
It was almost too much for human nature to stand; and a portion of the second brigade, which was behind the stone fence, began to leave cover — not because the enemy was upon it, but because it seemed impossible to stay.
The flags of the enemy, which are small red affairs, with a white cross diagonal on them, got up to the stone wall, and some crossed the line of rail fence, perhaps a hundred or so, led, as I heard, by
Gen. Armistead.
They were able to do this because, as I have told you, the second brigade did not stand up to the line of the stone wall and rail fence, so that the division was bent backward in the centre, as it were, the ends on the right and left standing fast; at least so it seemed, for there was a great deal of smoke and a terrific noise to confuse one's power of calm observation.
This was the pinch, and the officers knew it.
Gen. Gibbon had just been hit, some one said, and almost at the same time
Gen. Hancock was badly wounded, and both were taken off the field to the rear.
But I recollect seeing
Gibbon's aid try to rally the men, and do it manfully too. He did a man's part in steadying the line.
So did
Webb, who was on foot in the midst of the men. Entreaty, command, expostulation, encouragement, were employed.
Webb was everywhere.
So was
Col. Smith, of a Pennsylvania regiment.
At this time the enemy were crowding over the stone fence near the clumps of trees, and their red flags were waving, as it seemed to me, in triumph already, though
Hall was all right and his men were steady on our left.
Presently some one near me said that the enemy were massing their men in front of
Webb, opposite the clumps of trees, and we began to wish for
Hall's help.
By this time the officers had stopped the falling back, and were driving stragglers to the front, though we did not go forward to the stone wall, yet, but all were facing the enemy and firing heavily — not in ranks, for every one seemed going it pretty much on his own hook; but cheerfully, which was a good sign.
We had wished for
Hall, so he came as wished, and his right marched by the flank to our left and got mixed with our men.
As the 3d brigade (
Hall's) came up by the flank there was a disposition, under the heavy fire to which it was exposed, to edge away from the stone wall, but the officers overcame this, and soon a compact body of men was formed, who delivered a heavy and well-directed fire upon the enemy as they came over the wall and rail fence towards us. Just then an officer, I think it was the same who had gone for
Hall,
Gibbon's aid, came over with some regiments from the 1st brigade (
Harrow's) on our left, and from him it was reported that the extreme right of the enemy, which was opposite
Meade, was breaking badly, and that men were running to the rear.
This greatly encouraged us, and we cheered and went to our work with a will.
At this time we were behind the crest which was between us and the stone wall, which was a little way down the hill towards the valley; and at the wall, between fifty and sixty yards from us, were the enemy, many of them over the wall.
We now advanced, and could see, as we did so, that the battle was raging in front of the third division.--We delivered a steady fire from the crest, at short range, which cleared the wall, to which we then rushed, flags waving and men shouting.
Officers on both sides were using their pistols; the
color-sergeant of the 72d Pennsylvania went forward with his colors, the lance of which had been shot in two.
The soldiers followed him with a rush; no one wanted to straggle now. Other colors were borne as well, the wall was gained and crossed, and the work of taking prisoners commenced.
Hundreds who threw down their arms and rushed towards us were sent to the rear.
Here and there was a struggle for flags; but the battle was ended in this part of the field.
Lee's great assault had failed.
Going back with some prisoners across the wall and over the crest, I saw
Gen. Meade, who came on the ground with his son, who was his aid. He stopped to speak to
Gen. Gibbon's aid (
Haskell) and said, in his sharp way, "How is it going here?" or something that sounded like it. He was told the attack was repulsed, when he repeated, "What, is the assault entirely repulsed." When the aid again told him he thought it was, he said, "Thank God," and made a motion to wave his hat, but he did not, but waved his right hand and hurrahed, while his son took off his hat and hurrahed like a good fellow.
We men stood and stared, and then passed on, as the
General gave orders in a quick, short way, which seemed to be about the placing of reinforcements.
The dead — men and horses — were lying thick around; there was still some firing going on, and we were all — that is, all of us that were left — begrimed with powder and dust, and many were bleeding; but it was a good thing to see our General so cool, so much at his case, and speaking in such a soldierly way, and when he said "Thank God," many of us said "Amen." The reinforcements soon came up, but we had done without them, and in a little while all was quiet under the clump of trees, and the stone wall and the rail fence, with their heaps of dead, were once more arrest; the last forever.
’
