The Scourge of Elmira

THE SCOURGE OF ELMIRA JamesI. Robertson, Jr. In the past century embittered veterans, biased writers, and imaginative novelists have poured fourth reams of printed matter emphasizing (and often exaggerating) prison life at Andersonville. Largely forgotten in this never-ending avalanche of persecution is the uncontestable fact that Northern prisons killed more than their share of Southern soldiers. And far at the head of the list was Elmira Prison Camp, whose 24 per cent death rate topped even that of the more publicized compound at Camp Sumter, Georgia.1 The more than 150 soldier prisons of the 1860's had little similarity to one another except in the five broad classes into which they loosely fitted. Some, like Fort Warren and Castle Pinckney, were fortifications. Libby and St. Louis's Gratiot Street Prison were simply old buildings converted into compounds. Clusters of tents under heavy guard characterized Point Lookout and Belle Isle, while Andersonville and Salisbury were stockades containing prisoner-made shelters. Elmira represented the fifth class, that of the enclosed barracks. Although Confederates at this prison were housed in quarters formerly occupied by Federal recruits, their suffering was real and intense. "Talk about Camp Chase, Rock Island, or any other prison as you please," a member of the 1st Alabama Heavy Artillery wrote after the war, "but Elmira was nearer Hades than I thought any place could be made by human cruelty." A Texas soldier stated more succinctly: "If there was ever a hell on earth, Elmira prison was that hell."2 Elmira, New York, lies in fertile farm country some five miles from the Pennsylvania line. The secession of the Southern States seemed a remote event to most of Elmira's 15,000 citizens until the summer of 1861, when Dr. Robertson, retiring editor of Civil War History, is now Executive Director of the National Civil War Centennial Commission, Washington, D.C. Among his publications is a recent article on Confederate prisons at Danville, Virginia, his home town. 1 The 24 per cent figure is a conservative estimate. Some sources put Elmira's mortality rate as high as 28-32.5 per cent. The Nation, L ( 1890), 87; Confederate Veteran , XXXVII (1929), 157; Clav D. Holmes, Elmira Prison Camp (New York, 1912), pp. 254-55. Hereafter cited as Holmes, Elmira. 2 Confederate Veteran, XX ( 1912), 327; XXXIV ( 1926), 379. 184 the governor approved a plan establishing a rendezvous camp near the city for New York recruits.3 The story of Elmira Prison Camp began on May 15, 1864, when Adjutant General E. D. Townsend reported that several barracks at Elmira were unoccupied and could be used for "a large number of those lately captured." Five days later, Elmira's commanding officer, Colonel Seth Eastman, received instructions to "set apart the barracks on the Chemung River at Elmira as a depot" for as many as 10,000 prisoners who would shortly be transferred there from other Northern compounds. Federal officials further ordered Eastman to construct a twelve-foot-high fence, framed on the outside with a sentry's walk four feet below the top, and built at a safe distance from the barracks in order "that prisoners may not approach it unseen." Total cost of the conversion was estimated at $2,000.4 Eastman sent an optimistic reply on May 23. Two barracks, "built to comfortably accomodate 3,000 troops without crowding," had been set aside for 4,000 prisoners. An additional 1,000 men could be quartered in tents on surrounding grounds. The camp bakery had adequate facilities for feeding 5,000 prisoners. No camp hospital existed, Eastman apologetically reported, but tents were available for any men who might become ill. Not until two weeks before the first contingent of Confederates arrived did Commissary General of Prisons William Hoffman point out again to Eastman that 10,000 prisoners might ultimately be sent to Elmira . Eastman to the end made preparations to receive only 5,000 men.5 On June 30, 1864, Eastman wired Adjutant General Lorenzo Thomas that Elmira Prison Camp was ready for its first occupants.8 A more unsanitary spot could not have been chosen. The 30-acre site was along and below the banks of the...