And now we are getting ready to move somewhere, the Lord
only knows where. One good thing about their old prisons, we are always ready
for a change. Have made many new acquaintances while here in Pemberton, and
some agreeable ones; my boy Havens has fever and chills. Is rather better
to-day. It is said we move to-night. Minnesota Indians confined here, and a
number of sailors and marines. I am quite a hand to look at men, sometimes for
hours, and study them over, then get to talking with them and see how near I
was right in my conjectures. Its almost as good as reading books. The Astor
House Mess is now composed of-but four members, E. P. Sanders, F. L. Lewis,
Geo. W. Hendryx and myself; we still adhere to our sanitary regulations and as
a consequence are in better health than a majority of those here. Sanders may
be said to be at the head of the mess, (we call him Dad,) while Lewis is a sort
of moderator and advisor, with Hendryx and myself as the rank and file. Are
quite attached to one another, and don't believe that either one would steal
from the other. I certainly wouldn't take anything short of pumpkin pie or
something of that sort. Of course a man would steal pie, at least we all say
so, and Lewis even declares he would steal dough–cakes and pancakes such as his
wife used to make. We are all well dressed, thanks to the Sanitary Commission
and our own ingenuity in getting what was intended for us to have. False alarm
of fire.
SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p.
38-9
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