I think the settlers in western Minnesota and Dakota must be indebted to Andersonville prisoners for the idea of “dugouts.” When we arrived here, we found many of the unfortunate prisoners from Belle Isle who had no “pup tent” or blanket to spare, had provided themselves warm quarters by burrowing into the ground. They had dug holes about the size of the head of a barrel at the surface of the ground and gradually enlarged as they dug down, until they were something the shape of the inside of a large bell. These dugouts were four or five feet deep and usually had two occupants. These gophers were hard looking specimens of humanity. They had built fires in their holes, out of pitch pine; over this they had done their cooking, and over this they had crooned during the cold storms of March; they had had some bacon, but no soap, and the mixture of lamp black from the pine, and grease from the bacon, had disfigured them beyond the recognition of their own mothers. Their hair was long and unkempt, and filled with lamp black until it was so stiff that it stuck out like “quills of the fretful porcupine.” Their clothes were in rags, yes in tatters. They were shoeless, hatless, and usually coatless. They looked more like the terrible fancies of Gustave Dore than like human beings. And yet these poor boys were originally fair-haired, fair-skinned, blue-eyed, loyal, brave sons of fathers and mothers who were in easy circumstances, and in many cases wealthy; who would have shed their hearts’ last drop of blood, for that poor boy, if it would have been of any avail. Or they were husbands to fair women, and fathers to sweet blue-eyed children, who were waiting for husband and papa, to come home. Alas! those fathers and mothers, those wives and children are waiting yet, yea and shall wait until the sea, and the graves at Andersonville, give up their dead. CHAPTER VII. WINDER AND WIRZ. “Lady Anne. Foul devil, for God’s sake hence, and trouble us not; For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell, Filled it with cursing cries, and deep exclaims. If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds, Behold this pattern of thy butcheries.” —King Richard, III. Shakspere. The man who had charge of the prison at Andersonville, and who was responsible for the barbarities practiced there, more than any other man, was Gen. John H. Winder. I had not the honor(?) of a personal acquaintance with that fiend in human shape, but Comrade John McElroy of the 16 Illinois Cavalry, the author of “Andersonville,” gives his readers a description of the man. I quote from that work.