Words from the condemned -- part 4 of 7: the diary of Henry Wirz

Selections from the diary Captain Henry Wirz, commandant of the notorious Confederate prison called Andersonville, made in the days leading up to his November, 1865 execution. Originally appeared in the Boston Advertiser; reprinted in the November 15, 1856 edition of the New York Times on page 1, column 1.

October 4, 1865

What a mockery this trial is, they say they are anxious that I should have justice done to me, and then a witness is put on the stand to give testimony they give everything to try to break him down, if they cannot do it they try to assail his private character, when they had their witnesses up, they not alone were allowed to state everything I said, everything I done, but even what they heard others say that I had said so and so, done such and such things, and now when I wish to prove by my witnesses what I also said and done, it is said it is inadmissible, I just as well might be put on the stand myself, as if I had said these things now and not a year ago, when I had no idea that I should be held to account hereafter. But so the world goes and all I can say is oh God give me the strength to bear with my patience and humility what Thou seest fit to put on me. Be thou my judge.

The last words of Henry Wirz: a letter to his lawyer, Louis Scahde

Note: This passage originally appeared in Page, J.M. (1908). The True Story of Andersonville Prison: a Defense of Major Henry Wirz. New York, Neale Publishing Company.

On the morning of November 10, 1865, a few hours before he mounted the scaffold, Major Wirz penned the following pathetic letter to his faithful friend and counsel:

Old Capitol Prison

Washington, D.C., november 10, 1865

Dear Mr. Louis Schade,

It is the last time I address myself to you. What I have said often and often I repeat -- accept my thanks, my sincere, heartful thanks, for all you have done for me. May God reward you. I cannot.

I still have something more to ask of you, and I am confident you will not refuse to receive my dying request. Please help my poor family, my dear wife and children. War, cruelest, has swept everything from me, and to-day my wife and children are beggars!

My life is demanded as an atonement. I am willing to give it, and I hope that after a while i will be judged differently from what I am now. If any one thought to come to the relief of my family, it is the people of the South, for whose sake i have sacrificed all. I know you will excuse me for troubling you again.

Farewell, dear sir. May God bless you.

Yours Thankfully,
H. Wirz

Words from the condemned -- part 5 of 7: the diary of Henry Wirz

Selections from the diary Captain Henry Wirz, commandant of the notorious Confederate prison called Andersonville, made in the days leading up to his November, 1865 execution. Originally appeared in the Boston Advertiser; reprinted in the November 15, 1856 edition of the New York Times on page 1, column 1.

Part 5 of 7: Henry Wirz diary entry of October 5, 1865. [See all entries in this series]

October 5, 1865

When I left the court-room to-day I heard a lady remark, I wish I could shoot out his eyes, meaning me. Foolish woman, the time will soon come, when my earthly eyes are shut up, are you in such a hurry. But it is very natural that people do think and pass such remarks. for weeks and weeks they have heard men testify to cruelties done by me, and now a very slim chance have I to contradict these statements. It seems to me as if Gen. Wallace had a personal spite against me or my counsel, or he would not act the way he does. If he has one against me, I pity him that he does not have more magnanimity of soul, than to crush me now in such an unheard of arbitrary way, if he has a spite against my counsel, it is a cowardly act to do as he does, for in the end I am the sufferer and not my counsel.