John L. Ransom: The Finis

A BRIEF DESCRIPTION OF WHAT BECAME OF THE BOYS — REFUSED PERMISSION TO GO HOME — A REFERENCE TO CAPT. WIRTZ — RETURN HOME AT THE END OF THE WAR.

In may interest some one to know more of many who have been mentioned at different times in this book, and I will proceed to enlighten them.

George W. Hendryx came to the regiment in March, 1865, when we were near Goldsboro, N. C. He says that after running away from Andersonville at the time of the discovery of a break in which all intended to get away in the summer of 1864, he traveled over one hundred and fifty miles and was finally re-taken by bushwhackers. He represented himself as an officer of the 17th Michigan Infantry, escaped from Columbia, S. C., and was sent to that place and put with officers in the prison there, changing his name so as not to be found out as having escaped from Andersonville. In due time he was exchanged with a batch of other officers and went home North. After a short time he joined his regiment and company for duty. He was both delighted and surprised to see me, as he supposed of course I had died in Andersonville, it having been so reported to him at the North. He did valiant service until the war was over, which soon happened. He went home with the regiment and was mustered out of service, since when I have never seen or heard of him for a certainty. Think that he went to California.

Sergt. Wm. B. Rowe was exchanged in March, 1865, but never joined the regiment. His health was ruined to a certain extent from his long confinement. Is still alive, however, and resides at Dansville, Mich.

Sergt. Bullock was also exchanged at the same time, but never did service thereafter. He is now an inmate of a Michigan insane asylum, and has been for some years, whether from the effects of prison life I know not, but should presume it is due to his sufferings there. His was a particularly sad case. He was taken sick in the early days of Andersonville and was sick all the time while in that place, a mere walking and talking skeleton. There is no doubt in my mind l that his insanity resulted from his long imprisonment.

E. P. Sanders arrived home in Michigan in April, 1865, and made me a visit at Jackson that Summer. He was the only one of all my comrades in prison that I came in contact with, who fully regained health, or apparently was in good health. He was a particularly strong and healthy man, and is now engaged in farming near Lansing, Michigan.

Lieut. Wm. H. Robinson, who was removed from Belle Isle, from our mess, it having been discovered that he was an officer instead of an orderly sergeant, was exchanged early in 1864, from Richmond, and immediately joined his regiment, doing duty all the time thereafter. Soon after my escape and while with company "A," a note was handed me from Capt. Robinson, my old friend, he having been promoted to a captaincy. The note informed me that he was only a few miles away, and asked me to come and see him that day. You may rest assured I was soon on the road, and that day had the pleasure of taking my dinner with him. He was on his general's staff, and I dined at head-quarters, much to my discomfiture, not being up with such distinguished company. We had a good visit, I remember, and I went to camp at night well satisfied with my ride. Told me that a pipe which I engraved and presented to him on Belle Isle was still in his possession, and always should be. Was a favorite with every one, and a fine looking officer. He is now a resident of Sterling, Whiteside Co., Ill. Is a banker, hardware dealer, one of the City Fathers, and withal a prominent citizen. It was lucky he was an officer and taken away from us on Belle Isle, for he would undoubtedly have died at Andersonville, being of rather a delicate frame and constitution.

My good old friend Battese, I regret to say, I have never seen or heard of since he last visited me in the Marine Hospital at Savannah. Have written many letters and made many inquiries, but to no effect. He was so reticent while with us in the prison, that we did not learn enough of him to make inquiries since then effective. Although for many months I was in his immediate presence, he said nothing of where he lived, his circumstances, or anything else. I only know that his name was Battese, that he belonged to a Minnesota regiment and was a noble fellow. I don't know of a man in the world I would rather see to-day than him, and I hope some day when I have got rich out of this book (if that time should ever come,) to go to Minnesota and look him up. There are many Andersonville survivors who must remember the tall Indian, and certainly I shall, as long as life shall last.

Michael Hoare tells his own story farther along, in answer to a letter written him for information regarding his escape from the Savannah hospital. Mike, at the close of the war. re-enlisted in the regular army and went to the extreme west to fight Indians, and when his term of service expired again re-enlisted and remained in the service. In 1878 he was discharged on account of disability, and is now an inmate of the Disabled Soldier's Home, at Dayton, Ohio. From his letters to me he seems the same jolly, good natured hero as of old. I hope to see him before many months, for the first time since he shook me by the hand and passed in and out of his tunnel from the Marine Hospital and to freedom.

The two cousins Buck, David and Eli S., I last saw top of some corn in an army wagon I jumped from when I first encountered the 9th Mich. Cavalry. Little thought that would be the last time I should see them. Their command belonged to the Eastern Army in the region of the Potomac, and when communication was opened at Savannah they were sent there on transports. I afterward received letters from both of them, and David's picture; also his wife's whom he had just married. David's picture is reproduced in this book and I must say hardly does him justice as he was a good looking and active fellow. Presume Eli is a farmer if alive, and "Dave" probably preaching.

"Limber Jim," who was instrumental in putting down the raiders at Andersonville, was until recently a resident of Joliet, Illinois. He died last winter, in 1880, and it is said his health was always poor after his terrible summer of 1864. He was a hero in every sense of the word, and if our government did not amply repay him for valiant service done while a prisoner of war, then it is at fault.

Sergt. Winn of the 100th Ohio, who befriended me at Savannah, is, I think, a citizen of Cincinnati, Ohio, and a prosperous man. Any way, he was in 1870 or thereabouts. Was an upright man and good fellow.

Every one knows the fate of Capt. Wirtz, our prison commander at Andersonville, who was hung at Washington, D. C, in 1866, for his treatment of us Union prisoners of war. It was a righteous judgment, still I think there are others who deserved hanging fully as much. He was but the willing tool of those higher in command. Those who put him there knew his brutal disposition, and should have suffered the same disposition made of him. Although, I believe at this late day those who were in command and authority over Capt. Wirtz have successfully thrown the blame on his shoulders, it does not excuse them in the least so far as I am concerned. They are just as much to blame that thirteen thousand men died in a few months at that worst place the world has ever seen, as Capt. Wirtz, and should have suffered accordingly. I don't blame any of them for being rebels if they thought it right, but I do their inhuman treatment of prisoners of war.

Hub Dakin is now a resident of Dansville, Mich,, the same village in which lives Wm. B. Rowe. He has been more or less disabled since the war, and I believe is now trying to get a pension from the government for disability contracted while in prison. It is very difficult for ex-prisoners of war to get pensions, owing to the almost impossibility of getting sufficient evidence. The existing pension laws require that an officer of the service shall have knowledge of the origin of disease, or else two comrades who may be enlisted men. At this late day it is impossible to remember with accuracy sufficient to come up to the requirements of the law. There is no doubt that all were more or less disabled, and the mere fact of their having spent the summer in Andersonville, should be evidence enough to procure assistance from the government.

And now a closing chapter in regard to myself. As soon as Savannah was occupied by our troops and communications opened with the North, a furlough was made out by Capt. Johnson, of our company, and signed by Assistant Surgeon Young, and then by Col. Acker. I then took the furlough to Gen. Kilpatrick, which he signed, and also endorsed on the back to the effect that he hoped Gen. Sherman would also sign and send me North. From Gen. Kilpatrick's head quarters I went to see Gen. Sherman at Savannah and was ushered into his presence. The Gen. looked the paper over and then said no men were being sent home now and no furloughs granted for any cause. If I was permanently disabled I could be sent to Northern hospitals, or if I had been an exchanged prisoner of war, could be sent North, but there was no provision made for escaped prisoners of war. Encouraged me with the hope, however, that the war was nearly over and it could not be long before we Would all go home. Gave me a paper releasing me from all duty until such time as I saw fit to do duty, and said the first furlough granted should be mine, and he would retain it and send to me as soon as possible. Cannot say that I was very sadly disappointed, as I was having a good time with the company, and regaining my health and getting better every day, with the exception of my leg, which still troubled me. stayed with the company until Lee surrendered, Lincoln assassinated and all the fighting over and then leaving Chapel Hill, North Carolina, in April, went to my home in Michigan. In a few weeks was followed by the regiment, when we were all mustered out of the service. As had been reported to me at the regiment, I had been regarded as dead, and funeral sermon preached.

It was my sad duty to call upon the relatives of quite a number who died in Andersonville, among whom were those of Dr. Lewis, John McGuire and Jimmy Devers. The relics which had been entrusted to my keeping were all lost with two exceptions, and through no fault of mine. At the time of my severe sickness when first taken to Savannah, and when I was helpless as a child, the things drifted away from me some way, and were lost. But for the fact that Battese had two of my diary books and Sergt. Winn the other, they also would have been lost.

I hope that this Diary may prove successful in its mission of truly portraying the scenes at Andersonville and elsewhere during the time of my imprisonment, and if so, the object of its author shall have been accomplished.

Yours Very Respectfully,

JOHN L. RANSOM,

Late 1st Sergt. Co. A, 9th Mich. Cav.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 160-4

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: October 22, 1864

Lieut. Davis commands the prison in Savannah. Is the same individual who officiated at Andersonville during Wirtz's sickness last summer. He is a rough but not a bad man Probably does as well as he can. Papers state that they will commence to move the prisoners soon to Millen, to a stockade similar to the one at Andersonville. I am hobbling about the hospital with the help of two crutches. Have not heard a word from old Mike, or Battese or any one that ever heard of before, for some days. Sweet potatoes building me up with the luxuries they are traded for. Had some rice in my soup. Terrible appetite, but for all that don't eat a great deal. Have three sticks propped up at the mouth of our tent, with a little fire under it, cooking food. Men in tent swear because smoke goes inside. Make it all straight by giving them some soup. Rebel surgeons all smoke, at least do while among us. Have seen prisoners who craved tobacco more than food, and said of the two would prefer tobacco. I never have used tobacco in any form.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 105

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: August 16, 1864

Still in the land of the living. Capt. Wirtz is sick and a Lieut. Davis acting in his stead.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 92

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: August 20, 1864

Some say three hundred now die each day No more new men coming. Reported that Wirtz is dead.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 92

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: July 22, 1864

A petition is gotten up signed by all the sergeants in the prison, to be sent to Washington, D. C., begging to be released. Capt. Wirtz has consented to let three representatives go for that purpose. Rough that it should be necessary for us to beg to be protected by our government.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 89

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: July 11, 1864

This morning lumber was brought into the prison by the rebels, and near the gate a gallows erected for the purpose of executing the six condemned Yankees. At about ten o'clock they were brought inside by Capt. Wirtz and some guards, and delivered over to the police force. Capt. Wirtz then said a few words about their having been tried by our own men and for us to do as we choose with them, that he washed his hands of the whole matter, or words to that effect. I could not catch the exact language, being some little distance away I have learned by enquiry, their names, which are as follows: John Sarsfield, 144th New York; William Collins, alias "Moseby," Co. D, 88th Pennsylvania; Charles Curtiss, Battery A, 5th Rhode Island Artillery; Pat Delaney, Co. E, 83d Pennsylvania; A. Munn, U. S. Navy, and W. R. Rickson of the U. S Navy. After Wirtz made his speech he withdrew his guards, leaving the condemned at the mercy of 28,000 enraged prisoners who had all been more or less wronged by these men. Their hands were tied behind them, and one by one they mounted the scaffold Curtiss, who was last, a big stout fellow, managed to get his hands loose and broke away and ran through the crowd and down toward the swamp. It was yelled out that he had a knife in his hand, and so a path was made for him. He reached the swamp and plunged in, trying to get over on the other side, presumably among his friends. It being very warm he over exerted himself, and when in the middle or thereabonts, collapsed and could go no farther. The police started after him, waded in and helped him out. He pleaded for water and it was given him. Then led back to the scaffold and helped to mount up. All were given a chance to talk. Munn, a good looking fellow in marine dress, said he came into the prison four months before perfectly honest, and as innocent of crime as any fellow in it starvation, with evil companions, had made him what he was. He spoke of his mother and sisters in New York, that he cared nothing as far as he himself was concerned, but the news that would be carried home to his people made him want to curse God he had ever been born. Delaney said he would rather be hung than live here as the most of them lived, on their allowance of rations. If allowed to steal could get enough to eat, but as that was stopped had rather hang. Bid all good bye Said his name was not Delaney and that no one knew who he really was, therefore his friends would never know his fate, his Andersonville history dying with him. Curtiss said he didnt care a ——, only hurry up and not be talking about it all day; making too much fuss over a very small matter. William Collins, alias Moseby, said he was innocent of murder and ought not to be hung; he had stolen blankets and rations to preserve his own life, and begged the crowd not to see him hung as he had a wife and child at home, and for their sake, to let him live. The excited crowd began to be impatient for the “show” to commence as they termed it. Sarsfield made quite a speech; he had studied for a lawyer; at the outbreak of the rebellion he had enlisted and served three years in the army, been wounded in battle, furloughed home, wound healed up, promoted to first sergeant and also commissioned; his commission as a lieutenant had arrived but had not been mustered in when he was taken prisoner; began by stealing parts of rations, gradually becoming hardened as he became familiar with the crimes practiced; evil associates had helped him to go down hill and here he was. The other did not care to say anything. While the men were talking they were interrupted by all kinds of questions and charges made by the crowd, such as “don't lay it on too thick, you villain,” “get ready to jump off,” “cut it short,” “you was the cause of so and so's death,” “less talk and more hinging,” &c., &c. At about eleven o'clock they were all blindfolded, hands and feet tied, told to get ready, nooses adjusted and the plank knocked from under. Moseby's rope broke and he fell to the ground, with blood spurting from his ears, mouth and nose, As they was lifting him back to the swinging off place he revived and begged for his life, but no use, was soon dangling with the rest, and died very hard. Munn died easily, as also did Delaney, all the rest died hard and particularly Sarsfield who drew his knees nearly to his chin and then straightened them out with a jerk, the veins in his neck swelling out as if they would burst. It was an awful sight to see, still a necessity. Moseby, although he said he had never killed any one, and I don't believe he ever did deliberately kill a man, such as stabbing or pounding a victim to death, yet he has walked up to a poor sick prisoner on a cold night and robbed him of blanket, or perhaps his rations and if neccessary using all the force necessary to do it. These things were the same as life to the sick man, for he would invariably die. The result has been that many have died from his robbing propensities. It was right that he should  hang, and he did hang most beautifully and Andersonville is the better off for it. None of the rest denied that they had killed men, and probably some had murdered dozens. It has been a good lesson; there are still bad ones in camp but we have the strong arm of the law to keep them in check. All during the hanging scene the stockade was covered with rebels, who were fearful a break would be made if the raiders should try and rescue them. Many citizens too were congregated on the outside in favorable positions for seeing. Artillery was pointed at us from all directions ready to blow us all into eternity in short order; Wirtz stood on a high platform in plain sight of the execution and says we are a hard crowd to kill our own men. After hanging for half an hour or so the six bodies were taken down and carried outside. In noting down the speeches made by the condemned men, have used my own language; in substance it is the same as told by them. I occupied a near position to the hanging and saw it all from first to last, and stood there until they were taken down and carried away. Was a strange sight to see and the first hanging I ever witnessed. The raiders had many friends who crowded around and denounced the whole affair and but for the police there would have been a riot; many both for and against the execution were knocked down. Some will talk and get into trouble thereby; as long as it does no good there is no use in loud talk and exciting arguments; is dangerous to advance any argument, men are so ready to quarrel. Have got back to my quarters thoroughly prostrated and worn out with fatigue and excitement, and only hope that today's lesson will right matters as regards raiding. Battese suspended washing long enough to look on and see them hang and grunted his approval. Have omitted to say that the good Catholic priest attended the condemned. Rebel negroes came inside and began to take down the scaffold; prisoners took hold to help them and resulted in its all being carried off to different parts of the prison to be used for kindling wood, and the rebels get none of it back and are mad. The ropes even have been gobbled up, and I suppose sometime may be exhibited at the north as mementoes of to-day's proceedings. Mike Hoare assisted at the hanging. Some fears are entertained that those who officiated will get killed by the friends of those hanged. The person who manipulated the “drop,” has been taken outside on parole of honor, as his life would be in danger in here. Jimmy thanks God that he has lived to see justice done the raiders; he is about gone — nothing but skin and bone and can hardly move hand or foot; rest of the mess moderately well. The extra rations derived from our three mess-mates as policemen, helps wonderfully to prolong life. Once in a while some of them gets a chance to go outside on some duty and buy onions or sweet potatoes which is a great luxury.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 81-4

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: July 5, 1864

Court is in session outside and raiders being tried by our own men. Wirtz has done one good thing, but it's a question whether he is entitled to any credit, as he had to be threatened with a break before he would assist us. Rations again today. I am quite bad off with my diseases, but still there are so many thousands so much worse off that I do not complain much, or try not to however

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 77

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: July 3, 1864

Three hundred and fifty new men from West Virginia were turned into this summer resort this morning. They brought good news as to successful termination of the war, and they also caused war after coming among us. As usual the raiders proceeded to rob them of their valuables and a fight occurred in which hundreds were engaged. The cut throats came out ahead. Complaints were made to Capt. Wirtz that this thing would be tolera[ted] no longer, that these raiders must be put down or the men would rise in their might and break away if assistance was not given with which to preserve order. Wirtz flew around as if he had never thought of it before, issued an order to the effect that no more food would be given us until the leaders were arrested and taken outside for trial. The greatest possible excitement. Hundreds that have before been neutral and non-commital are now joining a police force. Captains are appointed to take charge of the squads which have been furnished with clubs by Wirtz. As I write, this middle of the afternoon, the battle rages. The police go right to raider headquarters knock right and left and make their arrests. Sometimes the police are whipped and have to retreat, but they rally their forces and again make a charge in which they are successful. Can lay in our shade and see the trouble go on. Must be killing some by the shouting. The raiders fight for their very life, and are only taken after being thoroughly whipped. The stockade is loaded with guards who are fearful of a break. I wish I could describe the scene to-day. A number killed. After each arrest a great cheering takes place. Night. — Thirty or forty have been taken outside of the worst characters in camp, and still the good work goes on. No food to-day and don't want any. A big strapping fellow called Limber Jim heads the police. Grand old Michael Hoare is at the front and goes for a raider as quick as he would a rebel. Patrol the camp all the time and gradually quieting down. The orderly prisoners are feeling jolly.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 75-6

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: July 1, 1864

Matters must approach a crisis pretty soon with the raiders. It is said that even the rebels are scared and think they will have no prisoners, should an exchange ever occur. John Bowen, a Corp. Christency, Hemmingway, Byron Goodsell and Pete Smith, old acquaintances, have all died within a few days. Jimmy Devers still lives, with wonderful tenacity to life Tomorrow he will have been a prisoner of war a year. Mike Hoare still keeps very well, but the most comical looking genius in the whole prison. Could make a fortune out of him on exhibition at the North. He says I look worse however. That may be, but not so comical. It's tragedy with the most of us. New guards are taking the place of the old ones, and it is said that Wirtz is going away. Hope so. Never have heard one word from Hendryx since his getting away. Sanders is trying to get outside as a butcher. He understands the business. "Dad" has been to Australia, and has told us all about that country. Have also heard all about Ireland and Scotland. Should judge they were fine countries. Rowe has been telling me of the advantage of silk under clothing, and in addition to visiting all the foreign countries, we shall have silk under wear. Rowe once lived in Boston, and I shall likewise go there.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 74

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: June 29, 1864

Capt. Wirtz sent inside a guard of fifteen or twenty to arrest and take out quite a number of prisoners. They had the names and would go right to their quarters and take them. Some tell-tale traitor has been informing on them, for attempting to escape or something Wirtz punishes very hard now; so much worse than a few months ago. Has numerous instruments of torture just outside the gate. Sores afflict us now, and the Lord only knows what next. Scurvy and scurvy sores, dropsy, not the least thing to eat that can be called fit for any one, much less a sick man, water that to drink is poison, no shelter, and surrounded by raiders liable to cut our throats any time Surely, this is a go. Have been reading over the diary, and find nothing but grumbling and growlings. Had best enumerate some of the better things of this life. I am able to walk around the prison, although quite lame. Have black pepper to put in our soups. Am as clean perhaps as any here, with good friends to talk cheerful to. Then, too, the raiders will let us alone until about the last, for some of them will get killed when they attack the “Astor House Mess,” Am probably as well off as any here who are not raiders, and I should be thankful, and am thankful. Will live probably two or three months yet. “If t'weren't for hope the heart would break,” and I am hopeful yet. A Pennsylvanian of German descent, named Van Tassel, and who has “sorter identified himself with us” for two or three months, died a few moments ago The worst cases of the sick are again taken to the hospital — that is, a few of the worst cases. Many prefer to die among their friends inside. Henry Clayton also died to-day. Was at one time in charge of our Division, and an old prisoner. Mike Hoare still hangs on nobly, as also do many other of my friends and acquaintances. Dorr Blakeman stands it unusually well. Have had no meat now for ten days; nothing but one-third of a loaf of corn bread and half a pint of cow peas for each man, each day. Wood is entirely gone, and occasionally squads allowed to go and get some under guard. Rowe went out to-day, was not able to carry much, and that had to be divided between a hundred men. One of the most annoying things is being squadded over every few days, sick and all. It's an all day job, and have to stand out until we are all tired out, never getting any food on these days.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 72-3

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: June 22, 1864

The washing business progresses and is prosperous. One great trouble is, it is run too loose and we often get no pay. Battese, while a good worker, is no business man, and will do anybody's washing on promises, which don't amount to much. Am not able to do much myself, principally hanging out the clothes; that is. laying the shirt on one of the tent poles and then watching it till dry. All day yesterday I lay under the “covered” in the shade, hanging on to a string which was tied to the washing. If I saw a suspicious looking chap hanging around with his eyes on the washed goods, then gave a quick jerk and in she comes out of harm's way. Battese has paid for three or four shirts lost in this way, and one pair of pants. Pays in bread. A great many Irish here, and as a class, they stand hardships well. Jimmy Devers losing heart and thinks he will die. Capt. Wirtz has issued another order, but don't know what it is — to the effect that raiding and killing must be stopped, I believe. Being unable to get around as I used to, do not hear the particulars of what is going on, only in a general way. New men coming in, and bodies carried out. Is there no end but dying?

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 69-70

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: June 21, 1864

I am a fair writer, and am besieged by men to write letters to the rebel officers praying for release, and I do it, knowing it will do no good, but to please the sufferers. Some of these letters are directed to Capt Wirtz, some to Gen. Winder, Jeff Davis and other officers. As dictated by them some would bring tears from a stone. One goes on to say he has been a prisoner of war over a year, has a wife and three children destitute, how much he thinks of them, is dying with disease, etc., etc. All kinds of stories are narrated, and handed to the first rebel who comes within reach. Of course they are never heard from. It's pitiful to see the poor wretches who think their letters will get them out, watch the gate from day to day, and always disappointed. Some one has much to answer for.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 69

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: June 16, 1864

Old prisoners (some of them) will not credit the fact that there is plenty to eat at the North They think because we are starved here, that it is so all over. They are crazy (as you may say) on the subject of food, and no wonder. In our dreams we see and eat bountiful repasts, and awake to the other extreme. Never could get a chance to talk with Capt. Wirtz, as he comes inside no more Probably just as well. Is a thoroughly bad man, without an atom of humanity about him. He will get killed, should we ever be released, as there are a great many here who would consider it a christian duty to rid the earth of his presence. Disease is taking right hold of me now. Battese is an angel; takes better care of me than of himself. Although not in our mess or tent, he is nearly all the time with us. It is wonderful the powers of endurance he has. I have always been blessed with friends, and friends, too, of the right sort. Had quite a talk with Dorr Blakeman, a Jackson, Mich., boy Was not much acquainted with him at home but knew his people. Is a thoroughly good fellow, and a sensible one. It is a relief to see any one who does not lose his head.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 67-8

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: June 10, 1864

The whole camp in a blaze of excitement. Plans for the outbreak known to Capt. Wirtz. Some traitor unfolded the plans to him Thirty or forty pieces of artillery pointed at us from the outside, and stockade covered with guards who shoot right and left. Thirty or forty outsiders sent inside, and they tell us how the affair was found out. A number of the ring leaders are undergoing punishment. Hendryx has made his escape, and not been heard of since yesterday. It is said he went away in full Confederate dress, armed, and furnished with a guide to conduct him. Dr. Lewis died to-day. Jack Walker told us about his death. Capt. Wirtz has posted up on the inside a notice for us to read. The following is the notice:

NOTICE.

Not wishing to shed the blood of hundreds not connected with those who concocted a plan to force the stockade, and make in this way their escape. I hereby warn the leaders and those who formed themselves into a band to carry out this, that I am in possession of all the facts, and have made my arrangements accordingly, so to frustrate it. No choice would be left me but to open with grape and cannister on the stockade, and what effect this would have in this densely crowded place need not be told.

Signed,

H. Wirtz.

June 10, 1864

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 65-6

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: June 6, 1864

Eight months a prisoner to-day. A lifetime has been crowded into these eight months. No rations at all. Am now a hair cutter. Have hired the shears. Enough to eat but not the right kind. Scurvy putting in its work, and symptoms of dropsy. Saw Hendryx at the bake house up stairs window, looking over the camp. , Probably looking to see if he can locate his old comrades among the sea of human beings. Wirtz comes inside no more, in fact, does very few rebels. The place is too bad for them.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 64

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: May 20, 1864

Hendryx sent me in to-day from the outside a dozen small onions and some green tea  No person, on suddenly being lifted from the lowest depths of misery to peace and plenty, and all that money could buy, could feel more joyous or grateful than myself for those things. As the articles were handed in through the gate a crowd saw the transaction, and it was soon known that I had a friend on the outside who sent me in extras, I learn that a conspiracy is being gotten up on the outside, in which Hendryx is at the head, and they will try and overpower the guard and release the prisoners. If Capt. Wirtz only knew it, he has a very dangerous man in George Hendryx. cram full of adventure, he will be heard from wherever he is.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 59-60

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: May 17, 1864

Had a funny dream last night. Thought the rebels were so hard up for mules that they hitched up a couple of grayback lice to draw in the bread. Wirtz is watching out for Yankee tricks. Some one told him the other day that the Yankees were making a large balloon inside and some day would all rise up in the air and escape. He flew around as if mad, but could find no signs of a balloon. Says there is no telling what “te tam Yankee will do.” Some prisoners came to-day who were captured at Dalton, and report the place in our possession, and the rebels driven six miles this side. Kilpatrick and Stoneman are both with Sherman and there are expectations of starting out on some mission soon, supposed to be for this place. Nineteen thousand confined here now and dying at the rate of ninety per day, Philo Lewis, of the 5th Michigan Cav., can live but a day or two. Talks continually of his wife and family in Ypsilanti, Mich. Has pictures of the whole family, which he has given me to take home to them, also a long letter addressed to his wife and children. Mr. Lewis used to be a teacher of singing in Ypsilanti. He is a fine looking man naturally, and a smart man, but he must go the way of thousands of others, and perhaps myself One of his pupils is here confined. Philo Lewis must not be confounded with F. L. Lewis, the member of our mess. The latter, however, cannot live but a short time unless relief comes. Fine weather but very warm. The sandy soil fairly alive with vermin. If this place is so bad at this time of the year, what must it be in July, August and September? Every man will die, in my estimation, but perhaps we may be relieved before then. We'll try and think so anyway. New prisoners die off the fastest.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 58-9

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: May 16, 1864

Two men got away during the night and were brought back before noon. (Was going to say before dinner) The men are torn by the dogs, and one of them full of buck shot. A funny way of escape has just been discovered by Wirtz. A man pretends to be dead and is carried out on a stretcher and left with the row of dead. As soon as it gets dark, Mr. Dead-man jumps up and runs. Wirtz suspecting the trick took to watching, and discovered a “dead man” running away. An examination now takes place by the surgeon before being permitted out from under guard. I hear a number of men have gotten away by this method, and it seems very probable, as dead men are so plenty that not much attention is paid to them.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 58

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: May 12, 1864

Received a few lines from George Hendryx, who again went out to work on the outside last night. Wirtz with a squad of guards is about the camp looking for tunnels. Patrols also looking among the prisoners for deserters. A lame man, for telling of a tunnel, was pounded almost to death last night, and this morning they were chasing him to administer more punishment, when he ran inside the dead line claiming protection of the guard. The guard didn't protect worth a cent, but shot him through the head. A general hurrahing took place, as the rebel had only saved our men the trouble of killing him. More rumors of hard fighting about Richmond. Grant getting the best of it I reckon. Richmond surrounded and rebels evacuating the place. These are the rumors. Guards deny it.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 56-7

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: May 10, 1864

Capt. Wirtz very domineering and abusive. Is afraid to come into camp any more. There are a thousand men in here who would willingly die if they could kill him first. Certainly the worst man I ever saw. New prisoners coming in every day with good clothes, blankets, &C., and occasionally with considerable money. These are victims for the Raiders who pitch into them for plunder. Very serious fights occur. Occasionally a party of new comers stick together and whip the raiders, who afterward rally their forces and the affair ends with the robbers victorious Stones, clubs, knives, sling shots, &C., are used on these occasions, and sometimes the camp gets so stirred up that the rebels, thinking a break is intended, fire into the crowds gathered, and many are killed before quiet is again restored. Then Wirtz writes out an order and sends inside, telling he is prepared for any break, etc., etc. No less than five have died within a radius of thirty feet in the last twenty-four hours. Hendryx has a sore arm and in turning over last night I hurt it He pitched in to me while I was in a sound sleep to pay me for it. Woke up in short order and we had it, rough and tumble. Tore down the tent poles — rolled around — scaring Lewis and all the rest. I am the stoutest, and soon get on top and hold him down, and keep him there until he quiets down, which is always in about five minutes. We have squabbles of this sort often, which don't do any particular harm. Always laugh, shake and make up afterwards. The “Astor House Mess,” or the heads rather, have gently requested that we do our fighting by daylight, and Sanders very forcibly remarked that should another scene occur us happened last night, he will take a hand in the business and lick us both. Battese laughed, for about the first time this summer He has taken quite a shine to both Hendryx and myself. In the fore part of to-day's entry I should have stated that Hendryx has been sent inside, they not being quite ready for him at the cookhouse. He is a baker by trade.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 55-6