The commandant of the prison—­one Captain Bowes—­was the best of his class it was my fortune to meet.  Compared with the senseless brutality of Wirz, the reckless deviltry of Davis, or the stupid malignance of Barrett, at Florence, his administration was mildness and wisdom itself.

He enforced discipline better than any of those named, but has what they all lacked—­executive ability—­and he secured results that they could not possibly attain, and without anything, like the friction that attended their efforts.  I do not remember that any one was shot during our six weeks’ stay at Millen—­a circumstance simply remarkable, since I do not recall a single week passed anywhere else without at least one murder by the guards.

One instance will illustrate the difference of his administration from that of other prison commandants.  He came upon the grounds of our division one morning, accompanied by a pleasant-faced, intelligent-appearing lad of about fifteen or sixteen.  He said to us: 

“Gentlemen:  (The only instance during our imprisonment when we received so polite a designation.) This is my son, who will hereafter call your roll.  He will treat you as gentlemen, and I know you will do the same to him.”

This understanding was observed to the letter on both sides.  Young Bowes invariably spoke civilly to us, and we obeyed his orders with a prompt cheerfulness that left him nothing to complain of.

The only charge I have to make against Bowes is made more in detail in another chapter, and that is, that he took money from well prisoners for giving them the first chance to go through on the Sick Exchange.  How culpable this was I must leave each reader to decide for himself.  I thought it very wrong at the time, but possibly my views might have been colored highly by my not having any money wherewith to procure my own inclusion in the happy lot of the exchanged.

Of one thing I am certain:  that his acceptance of money to bias his official action was not singular on his part.  I am convinced that every commandant we had over us—­except Wirz—­was habitually in the receipt of bribes from prisoners.  I never heard that any one succeeded in bribing Wirz, and this is the sole good thing I can say of that fellow.  Against this it may be said, however, that he plundered the boys so effectually on entering the prison as to leave them little of the wherewithal to bribe anybody.

Davis was probably the most unscrupulous bribe-taker of the lot.  He actually received money for permitting prisoners to escape to our lines, and got down to as low a figure as one hundred dollars for this sort of service.  I never heard that any of the other commandants went this far.