My Journey to Libby: From Chickamauga to Libby with Colonel Harrison Hobart of the 21st Wisconsin

Colonel Harrison Hobart’s reminiscences of his capture at Chickamauga and subsequent imprisonment at Libby first appeared in the October 18, 1879, edition of the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel.

 

Colonel Harrison Carroll Hobart, 21st Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry

          The Battle of Chickamauga was fought on the 19th and 20th of September, 1863. The 21st Wisconsin, which I then commanded, formed a part of Thomas’s memorable line and fought through the battles of Saturday and Sunday. At the close of the second day, Thomas’s corps still maintained its position and presented an unbroken front to the enemy, but the right of our army having fallen back, the tide of battle was turning against us.

          To avoid a flank movement, our brigade was ordered to leave the breastworks which they had held against the severest fire of the enemy during the day and fell back to a second position. Here only a portion of the men with three regimental standards were rallied. A Rebel battery was instantly placed in position on our right and Rebel cavalry swept between us and the retreating army.

Being the ranking officer among those who rallied, I directed the men to cut their way through to our retreating line. I was on the left of this movement to the rear and to avoid the approach of horsemen rapidly passed to the left through a dense cluster of small pines and instantly found myself in front of a Rebel line of infantry. I halted, dismounted, and an officer advanced and offered his hand, saying he was glad to see me and proposed to introduce me to his commander, General [Patrick] Cleburne.

I replied that I was not particularly pleased to see him but, under the circumstances, should not decline his invitation. I met the general, who was mounted and being cheered by his men, and surrendered to him my sword. He inquired where I had been fighting. I said, “right there” pointing to the line of Thomas’s corps. He replied, “This line has given us our chief trouble, sir. Your soldiers have fought like brave men; come with me and I will see that no one insults or interferes with you.”

It was now after sundown and the last guns of the terrible Battle of Chickamauga were dying away among the hillsides. A large number of prisoners of war were soon gathered and marched to the enemy’s rear across the Chickamauga. Here we witnessed the fearful results of the battle. The ground was strewn with dead and wounded, the shattered fragments of transportation, and a general demoralization among the forces told the fearful price which the enemy had paid for their victory. More than 1,500 soldiers, all prisoners of war, camped by a large spring to pass the remainder of a cold night, some without blankets or overcoats and all without provisions.

The next day we marched to Tunnel Hill where we received our first rations from the enemy. On this march the only food we obtained was from a field of green sorghum. Here we were placed in box cars and taken to Atlanta. On arriving at this place, we were first marched to an open field outside the city near a fountain of water and surrounded by a guard. Kind-hearted people came out of the city, bringing bread with them, which they threw to us across the guard line. Immediately, a second line was established several rods outside of the first to prevent them from giving us food.

From this place we were marched to an old salve pen and every man as he entered the narrow gate was compelled to give up his overcoat and blanket. I remonstrated with the officer for stripping the soldiers of their necessary clothing as inhuman and an act in violation of civilized warfare. The men who were executing this infamous duty did not deny these charges but excused themselves that they were simply obeying an order of General Bragg. That night I saw 1,700 Union soldiers lie down upon the ground without an overcoat or blanket to protect them from the cold earth or shield them from the heavy Southern dew.

The next morning we were ordered to take the cars and proceed on our way to Richmond. These men arose from the ground, cold and wet with dew, and under my command organized and formed in column by companies and marched to the depot through one of the main streets of Atlanta, singing in full chorus the Star-Spangled Banner. Crowds gathered around us as we entered the cars. A guard with muskets accompanied the train.

I will here relate an incident which occurred on our way. We overtook a train of open cars filled with Confederate wounded from the battlefield. The two trains stopped for some time alongside and in close proximity. It was a spectacle to see the men of the two armies intently observe each other. One the one side was the calm, pale face of the wounded; on the other, the earnest, deep sympathy of the captive. No unkind look or word passed between them. Of the 1,700 prisoners, there was not one who would not have given his coat or reached for his last cent to help his wounded brother.

On the last day of September, after traveling more than 800 miles from the battlefield, we arrived in Richmond and the officers of the Army of the Cumberland (about 250) were marched to Libby Prison. This building has a front of about 140 feet with a depth of about 105. There are nine rooms, each 102 feet long by 45 wide. The height of the ceilings from the floor is about 7 feet. The building is also divided into three apartments by brick walls and there is a basement below. On entering the prison, we were searched and everything of value taken from us. Some of us saved our money by putting it into the seams of our garments before we arrived at Richmond. The officers of the Army of the Cumberland were assigned to the middle rooms of the second and third story. The lower middle room was used as a general kitchen and the basement immediately below was fitted up with cells for the confinement and punishment of offenders. These rooms received the sobriquet of Chickamauga.

The whole number of officers of the army and navy in prison at this time was about 1,100- all having access to each other except those in the hospital. There were no beds or chairs and all slept on the floor. I shared a horse blanket with Surgeon Dixon of Wisconsin which was the only bedding we had for some time. Our bread was made of unbolted corn and was cold and clammy. We were sometimes furnished with fresh beef, corned beef, and sometimes with rice and vegetable soup. The men formed themselves into messes and each took his turn in preparing such food as we could get. At one time, no meat was furnished for about nine days and the reason given was that their soldiers at the front required all they could obtain. During this period, we received nothing but cornbread.

Kind friends sent us boxes of provisions from the North which were opened and examined by the Confederates and if nothing objectionable was found (and it pleased them), the party to whom the box was sent was directed to come down and get it. Many of these were never delivered. Every generous soul shared the contents of his box with his more unfortunate companions. Had it not been for this provision, our life in Libby would have been intolerable.

There was no glass in the windows and for some time no fire in the rooms. An application for window glass, made during the severest cold weather, was answered by the assurance that the Confederates had none to furnish. The worst affliction, however, was the vermin which invaded every department. Each officer was permitted to write home the amount of three lines per week; but even these brief messages were not always allowed to leave Richmond. A variety of scheme were adopted to improve or kill time. We played chess, cards, opened a theater, organized a band of minstrels, delivered lectures, established schools for teaching dancing, singing, the French language, and military tactics, read books, published a manuscript newspaper, held debates, and by these means rendered life tolerable though by no means agreeable.

 A fellow prisoner of war, Major Bedan B. McDonald of the 101st Ohio shared a similar story to Hobart's as recounted in my 2022 post "From Chickamauga to Libby Prison: The Journey of Major Bedan B. McDonald, 101st Ohio Volunteer Infantry."

Source:

“Hobart’s Thrilling Tale: The General Relates a Bit of His War Experience,” Colonel Harrison Carroll Hobart, 21st Wisconsin Volunteer Infantry, Milwaukee Journal Sentinel (Wisconsin), October 18, 1879, pg. 2

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