The Commonwealth of Virginia was a hotbed of conflict in 1860. The Democratic Party was divided over the issue of slavery, and in November the Virginia General Assembly was called together for a special session to consider, among other things, secession to the Confederated States. Proponents cited pro-slavery and ethnic sentiments and well as the economic consequences of limiting or abolishing slavery. After all, Virginia had the largest population of slaves in the Union. Virginia was also a major agricultural and industrial center on the Eastern seaboard. Many feared abolition of slavery would cause devastating economic loss. While many Virginians either clearly sided with the anti-slavery movement or to preserve slavery in their state, most were undecided. Nevertheless, despite political posturing and failed negotiations, Virginia eventually seceded whereupon the Confederate Congress proclaimed Richmond, Virginia, to be the new capital of the Confederacy.
One hundred-forty miles southwest
of Lexington, Virginia, Barney Cannoy labored at the autumnal tasks of farming.
Working with his father and younger brothers, he harvested crops,
butchered hogs, and chopped wood on the family farm near Elk Creek. When
time permitted, he hunted game and fowl in the hills of Grayson
County. On November 26, he celebrated his twenty-fourth birthday. [1]
The spelling of the name “Canoy”
changed to “Cannoy” when Barney enlisted in the Confederate Army on 24 Apr 1861
and was assigned to Company F, 4th Virginia Infantry Regiment. [2] In Grayson
County, 135 young men, mostly farmers, gathered to form the Grayson
Daredevils, officially designated as Company F, Fourth Regiment, Virginia
Infantry. A creative captain winnowed the number of volunteers
to the requisite 100-man company with a shooting competition requiring
each man to fire at a target while running. Those who missed the
target or hit its periphery were eliminated. Barney, whose
family now included a month-old son, earned a spot on the Daredevils’
roster. [3]
On April 24, Cannoy and the rest of Company F left Grayson County for Richmond, the assembly point for troops from across Virginia. From there, they marched to Harper’s Ferry, arriving in mid-May. [4] In July he survived his first battlefield experience under the command of Brigadier Thomas “Stonewall” Jackson. However, by October he had contracted typhoid and spent the following two months in the hospital. [5] He was sent to the hospital again in April of 1862 by the army surgeon after contracting pneumonia. [6]
According to Confederate Muster Roll records, Barney was assigned the duties of a regimental teamster March/April 1863. [7] During the Civil War a teamster did more than just handle the horses and wagons. According to Peter J. Lysy, the senior archivist for the University of Notre Dame:
“In general, Confederate teamsters and nurses with the field armies were line soldiers detailed for that duty. The organization of the Confederate Army provided for no enlisted men in any capacity other than as troops in the line -- there were no "support" units like there are in today's armies, only support (i.e. staff) officers. These staff officers (medical, quartermaster, and subsistence, primarily)were responsible for procuring individuals to perform whatever tasks were required to be done, tasks performed by teamsters, blacksmiths, farriers, ambulance drivers, herders, train guards, nurses during epidemics and after battles, wagon masters, cooks, etc. In the antebellum army these tasks were usually performed by hired men. (Note that field nursing was primarily, almost exclusively, a male occupation.) In most circumstances nurses and teamsters did not serve in the line during battle because they were otherwise occupied -- teamsters with taking care of their teams and keeping the army's trains mobile, nurses with caring for the wounded." [8]
Barney served as a teamster for the 4th Virginia Infantry until 31 Dec 1863 when he received a battlefield promotion to the rank of 2nd Lieutenant. [9] Over the winter of 1863-1864, he and his company (now under the command of General Richard Ewell who took command of the 4th Virginia Regiment and others after the death of General Thomas Jackson) had faced the Unionists across the Rapidan River in northern Virginia. But on May 4, they were confronted by around 115,000 Union troops in a densely wooded area known as the Wilderness. [10] Barney was captured 10 May 1964 and interned as a prisoner of war [11] where fate would record his name to be included as one of the “Immortal Six Hundred,” Confederate prisoners of war who were intentionally starved and used as a human barricade by the Union Army.
From Belle Plains, Virginia, the confederate captives were taken by ship down the Potomac River to Ft. Delaware, an overcrowded facility in which “each prisoner was given one set of clothes, a "cheap overcoat", and one blanket which did little to ward off the chill of icy winds. Heat was provided by coal-burning stoves, one stove for every 200 men. Some could not tolerate the severe conditions. The heat of the summer was oppressive, but the extreme cold and exposure of the winter months, combined with contagious disease and the poor condition many men were in upon their arrival led to the death of over 2,000(prisoners).”[12]
On 20 Aug 1864, 600 of the Confederate prisoners, including 2nd Lt. Barney Cannoy, were boarded onto the Federal steamer Crescent City and shipped Morris Island. They remained in the hold of the Crescent City near Hilton Head while the stockade being built on Morris Island was being completed. [13]
"On the morning of the 26th of August we were at anchor off Hilton Head. Here we first met Gen. John G. Foster, who was in command of the Carolinas and Georgia, and who was thought to be responsible for the treatment we afterwards received. Our condition at this time was horrible. I cannot describe it. For a week or more we had been penned in the hold of the ship, many were sick, and the stench arising from the filth was unbearable. We were almost famished, provisions and water having given out two days before we reached Hilton Head. On September 4 we found ourselves in the midst of the blockading fleet off Charleston, and on the 7th we were landed on Morris Island. On reaching shore we were placed under the charge of the Fifty fourth Massachusetts Regiment. Our prison home was a stockade made of palmetto logs driven into the sand, and was about one hundred and thirty yards square. In this were small tents, capable of holding four persons. Around the tents and ten feet from the wall of the pen was stretched a rope, known as the "dead line." Outside of the pen, and near the top of the wall, was a walk for the sentinels, so situated as to enable them to overlook the prisoners. About three miles distant, and in full view, was Charleston, into which the enemy was pouring heavy shells during the night while we remained on the island. The first evening remained quiet, not a shot being fired by Moultrie or Wagner. Late in the evening I watched the great bombshells sent from Gregg into the city of Charleston, and heard one loud report from the "Swamp Angel" situated about six hundred yards southeast of us. At sunset we were ordered into our tents, there to remain until sunrise the next day. In the morning we received our first meal upon the island. This consisted of two moldy crackers and two ounces of boiled pickled meat, while at four o'clock in the afternoon we were given two crackers and a gill of bean soup. Tow negro soldiers carried the rations around to the tents, and the coporal dipped out the soup in a gill tin cup and poured it into our cups, giving each prisoner two crackers also. As to the ration formula, Col. Hollowell said that Gen. Foster was responsible for it. The formula was strictly carried out never more, never less. At the end of forty days we were to learn that life could be sustained on a much smaller amount and a poorer quality of food." [14]
The treatment of the 600 Confederate prisoners was in response to the wrath of Maj. Gen. John Gray Foster when he believed that Federal POWs were being sent to Charleston for use as human shields. He built a stockade in front of Battery Wagner on Morris Island, directly in the path of the Confederate artillery and then placed the 600 within the stockade.
The unspeakable cruelties that our grandfather Barney had to endure, along with his comrades, has been chronicled in a number of publications, but none more vivid than those written by those who were victims themselves.
“September 10th.—As the Yankees are continually boasting about how well they feed us, I will attempt to give a correct account of each meal. Roll call one and one-half hours by sun for breakfast, three crackers issued, one tablespoonful of rice. Twelve o’clock roll call. Rations for dinner, one-half pint bean soup, two crackers, womry and full of bugs. Five o’clock roll call. Rations for supper, two ounces of bacon, two crackers, wormy as usual. I am well, but getting weak.
September 11th.—Shelling from our mortars last night directed at Wagner. One piece of shell striking the fence around us. Six thirty a.m., roll call. Rations for breakfast, two crackers, very wormy and two ounces of very old salt beef (stinking). Twelve o’clock roll call. Rations for inner, one-half pint of bean soup, two crackers (full of worms and bugs). Water full of wiggle-tails to-day. Five p.m., roll call. Rations old salt beef, two ounces, one cracker, wormy as usual. Some little firing last night from the Yankee batteries, but don’t think they got any reply from ours. One gun kept up firing into Charleston at intervals of half an hour all night." [15]
The prisoners were subjected to clouds of sand fleas and mosquitoes and drenching thunderstorms, all common to coastal South Carolina. The Yankees did not issue blankets, and the men were forced to sleep in the sand, all the while exposed to cannon shells and scorching summer heat.[16]
Throughout the month of September, the shelling continued, and the Confederate captives remained in their prison pen. Several Union guards outside the stockade were struck by shrapnel, but, almost unbelievably, the prisoners remained unharmed, even though approximately 18 rounds, fortunately all duds, actually landed among their sun-bleached A-tents. [17]
“He ordered that our rations be one half pint of rotten corn meal, one fourth of a pound of bread, and a cucumber pickle each day. This was everything. Not even salt or soda was allowed us. This meal was ground in 1862 at the Brandywine Mills, as shown by the marks on the barrels. It had been in the barrels for three years, and often the whole would stand in a mass when the staves were taken off. Some of it could be dipped out with cups, and as many as one hundred weevils and white worms were picked from one pint. The fact is that the weevils and white worms were the only nutritious parts of it. Our supply of wood had also been cut off to barely enough to cook our small supply of rotten cornmeal. Through the whole winter we knew not what it was to feel the warmth of fire. The officers were poorly clad, many of them not having blankets, and some of their wardrobes not as good as my own, above described. The casemates were damp and the brick floor was at all times wet, as if it had been rained upon. We paced the vaults to keep warm. Some would walk while some slept, and thus the time passed slowly away." [18]
The Confederate prisoners spent miserable, freezing winter at Ft. Pulaski, with 13 of their number dying from the effects of scurvy and dysentery.
“If our condition was horrible on Morris Island, it was much more so here. Many were unable to walk, others meandered through the vaults like living skeletons, gazing into each other’s' faces with a listless, vacant stare, plainly indicating that they were bordering upon imbecility or lunacy. That dreadful disease, the scurvy, was raging fearfully, so that the mouths were in a fearful condition, their gums decaying and sloughing off and their teeth falling out, while others had the disease in a more dangerous form, their arms and legs swelling, mortifying, and becoming black. Black spots appeared upon the arms and legs of some, looking as though the veins and arteries had decomposed, separated, and spilled the blood in the flesh. One day when some of our dead were carried to the graveyard Col. Brown had a military salute fired over their graves, but this was soon forbidden, and then, day by day, the dead were silently and sadly carried and laid in their graves." [19]
On 4 Mar 1865 they were transferred once again to Ft. Delaware. Here they were boarded once again in the A-framed tents they had left behind in the stockade on Morris Island.
“Upon hearing of Lee's surrender (9 April, the prisoners) were asked to take the oath of Allegiance. At first many refused, but they soon came to realize that they were soldiers without a country. By July 25th, all but 3 who had refused to take the oath were released and sent home. Of the 600 who had left Fort Delaware in August 1864, disease brought on by the inhumane treatment claimed 41 lives. 3 died at Morris Island, 13 at Fort Pulaski and 25 upon their return to Fort Delaware. Another 17 took the Oath of Allegiance and became pariahs to their former comrades." [20]
Barney Cannoy returned to his home on Elk Creek after his release from Ft. Delaware 16 Jun 1865. The prior year, 2 Mar 1864, he had been deeded 165 acres on Elk Creek by his parents. [21] On 29 Dec 1867, Sarah, passed away at the age of 28. They had three children at the time of her death, Mary Catherine (age 8), George Washington (age 6), and John Calvin (1). [22]
Prior to his death, the family property of approx. 150 acres along Elk Creek was divided into 13 lots and deeded to the living children. Hattie received 18 acres. Lonnie received 16-1/2 acres. Lyda received the house and 16 acres. Bertha and Greek also received 16 acres. Roy received 14 acres and Olen received 13 acres Laura received 10 acres, as did John and Emory. Ellis received 9-3/4 acres. The property, located just west of the current town of Elk Creek, is still farmed today much as it was during Barney’s lifetime.
3. "Civil War Primer — by Pat Granstra." Civil War Primer by Pat Granstra RSS. 10 May 2011. Web. 27 May 2016.
5. United States. National Archives and Records Administration (NARA). Carded Records Showing Military Service of Soldiers Who Fought in Confederate Organizations, Compiled 1903 - 1927, Documenting the Period 1861 - 1865. Print. Catalog ID: 586957; Record Group #: 109; Roll #: 403.
8. Lysy, Peter J. "Confederate Teamsters and Nurses." Message to George H. McClusky. 10 July 1997. E-mail.
9. National Archives and Records Administration (NARA); Carded Records Showing Military Service of Soldiers Who Fought in Confederate Organizations, compiled 1903 - 1927, documenting the period 1861 - 1865; Catalog ID: 586957; Record Group #: 109; Roll #: 403
10. History.com Staff. "Battle of the Wilderness." History.com. A&E Television Networks, 2009. Web. 15 Apr. 2016.
11. neese, Edward Holt. Kanoy Canoy Knoy Family History, 1678-1950. Baltimore: Gateway, 1988. Print.
12. "Fort Delaware State Park." Civil War Prison Camp Trail at , Delaware City, Delaware. Web. 22 Apr. 2016.
13. Cunningham, Tim. "Immortal 600: Prisoners Under Fire at Charleston’s Harbor During the American Civil War." America's Civil War Jan. 2003. Print.
14. Howe Cook, Henry. "Immortal 600 History - Immortal Six HundredCamp #2600 ..." 600csa. Web. 23 Apr. 2016.
15. Murray, J. Ogden. The Immortal Six Hundred; a Story of Cruelty to Confederate Prisoners of War. Winchester, VA: Eddy, 1905. Print.
16. "Immortal 600: Prisoners Under Fire at Charleston Harbor During the American Civil War | HistoryNet." HistoryNet. 2006. Web. 23 Apr. 2016.
18. Cook, Henry Howe. "The Immortal Six Hundred POW’s Story: The Story of the Six Hundred." Immortal Six Hundred, Camp #2600: Immortal 600 History. 600csa. Web. 23 Apr. 2016.
20. "Articles | Civil War Round Table of Augusta." Articles | Civil War Round Table of Augusta. Web. 29 Apr. 2016.