226 Rhodora [NOVEMBER 
many devoted disciples in that part of Vermont. Their emphasis 
on the supremacy of conscience, and their uncompromising opposition 
to war and all personal violence toward a fellow man found a congenial 
soil in the natural temperament of Mr. Pringle, and he joined the 
Society of Friends. This action is perhaps to be associated with his 
interest in a young woman, who taught school in his neighborhood 
and was a talented speaker in the meetings of the Friends. To this 
lady, Almira L. Greene of Starksboro, Vermont, he was married 
February 25, 1863. 
On the 13th of July following, Mr. Pringle and two other Quakers 
of Charlotte were drafted for service in the Civil War. He refused 
to permit his uncle, Capt. Hewett, to pay the $300 that would release 
him, regarding it as a selfish compromise with principle. In spite of 
all appeals to those in authority, the three men were carried in July 
to the camp for conscripts on Long Island in Boston Harbor, and 
three weeks later transported to Culpepper, Virginia. In both camps 
they were subjected to most barbarous treatment. Among Mr. 
Pringle’s papers has been found a journal that he wrote during this 
terrible experience. His story fills 120 pages of commercial note- 
paper, and is of intense interest, not only as an episode of the Civil 
War, but as a psychological study. The effort was made to induce 
him to serve in the hospitals instead of on the field, and some leaders 
of the Society of Friends approved of this compromise; not so Mr. 
Pringle. He debated in his own soul the question for days, earnestly 
praying for the guidance of the Divine Spirit; he visited the hospital 
to see what the service would be; then he put on record his final 
decision: “No Friend, who is really such, desiring to keep himself 
clear of complicity with this system of war and to bear a perfect 
testimony against it, can lawfully perform service in the hospitals 
of the army in lieu of bearing arms.” 
The brutal punishments resorted to to compel the men to serve are 
a disgrace to our military history. The men were kept for days in the 
guard house with the vilest of the conscripts — thieves, gamblers, and 
men crazed by drink: they were forced to march with guns strapped 
to their backs. On October 3d Mr. Pringle was tied prone on the 
ground with cords about his wrists and ankles, in the form of the 
letter X. Thus he was left for hours, until “so weak he could hardly 
walk or perform any mental exertion.” The corporal urged him to 
give up, or worse would follow; even death was threatened if he did 
