Christmas day and didn't hang up my stocking. No matter, it
wouldn't have held anything. Last Christmas we spent on Belle Island, little
thinking long imprisonment awaiting us. Us escaped men are to ride in a forage
wagon. The army is getting ready to move. Are now twenty-four miles from
Savannah and rebels falling back as we press ahead. Night.—At about nine o'clock this morning as we sat in the
forage wagon top of some corn riding in state, I saw some cavalry coming from
the front. Soon recognized Col. Acker at the head of the 9th Michigan Cavalry.
Jumped out of the wagon and began dancing and yelling in the middle of the road
and in front of the troop. Col. Acker said: “Get out of the road you lunatic!”
Soon made myself known and was like one arisen from the dead. Major Brockway
said: [“]Ransom, you want to start for home. We don't know you, you are dead.
No such man as Ransom on the rolls for ten months.” All remember me and are
rejoiced to see me back again. Lieut. Col. Way, Surgeon, Adjutant,
Sergeant-Major, all shake hands with me. My company “A” was in the rear of the
column, and I stood by the road as they moved along, hailing those I
recognized. In every case had to tell them who I was and then would go up and
shake hands with them at the risk of getting stepped on by the horses. Pretty
soon Co. “A” appeared, and wasn't they surprised to see me. The whole company
were raised in Jackson, Mich., my home, and I had been regarded as dead for
nearly a year. Could hardly believe it was myself that appeared to them. Every
one trying to tell me the news at home all at the same time — how I was
reported, as having died in Richmond and funeral sermon preached. How so and so
had, been shot and killed, &c., &c. And then I had to tell them of who
of our regiment had died in Andersonville — Dr. Lewis, Tom McGill and others.
Although Jimmy Devers did not belong to our regiment, many in our company knew
him, and I told them of his death. Should have said that as soon as I got to
the company, was given Capt. Johnson's lead horse to ride, without saddle or
bridle and nothing but a halter to hang on with. Not being used to riding, in
rebel dress — two or three pails hanging to me — I made a spectacle for them
all to laugh at. It was a time of rejoicing. The Buck boys did not get out of
the wagon with me and so we became separated without even a good bye. Before I
had been with the company half an hour Gen. Kilpatrick and staff came riding by
from the rear, and says to Capt. Johnson: “Captain, I hear one of your company
has just joined you after escaping from the enemy.” Capt. Johnson said, “Yes,
sir,” and pointed to me as a Sergeant in his company. General Kilpatrick told
me to follow him and started ahead at a break neck pace. Inasmuch as the
highway was filled with troops, Gen. Kilpatrick and staff rode at the side,
through the fields, and any way they could get over the ground. The horse I was
on is a pacer and a very hard riding animal and it was all I could do to hang
on. Horse would jump over logs and come down an all fours ker-chug, and I kept
hoping the general would stop pretty soon; but he didn't. Having no saddle or
anything to guide the brute, it was a terrible hard ride for me, and time and
again if I had thought I could fall off without breaking my neck should have
done so. The soldiers all along the line laughed and hooted at the spectacle
and the staff had great sport, which was anything but sport for me. After a
while and after riding five or six miles, Kilpatrick drew up in a grove by the
side of the road and motioning me to him, asked me when I escaped, etc. Soon
saw I was too tired and out of breath. After resting a few minutes I proceeded
to tell him what I knew of Savannah, the line of forts around the city, and of
other fortifications between us and the city, the location of the rivers, force
of rebels, etc. Asked a great many questions and took down notes, or rather the
chief of staff, Estes by name, did. After an extended conversation a dispatch
was made up and sent to Gen. Sherman who was a few miles away, with the
endorsement that an escaped prisoner had given the information and it was
reliable. General Kilpatrick told me I would probably not be called upon to do
any more duty as I had done good service as a prisoner of war. Said he would
sign a furlough and recommend that I go home as soon as communication was
opened. Thanked me for information and dismissed me with congratulations on my
escape. Then I waited until our company, “A,” came up and joined them, and here
I am encamped with the boys, who are engaged in getting supper. We are only
twelve or fourteen miles from Savannah and the report in camp is to the effect
that the city has been evacuated with no fight at all. Fort McAllister was
taken to-day, which being the key to Savannah, leaves that city unprotected,
hence the evacuation. Communication will now be opened with the gunboats on the
coast and I will be sent home to Michigan. I mess with Capt. Johnson and there
is peace and plenty among us. I go around from mess to mess this pleasant night
talking with the boys, learning and telling the news. O. B. Driscoll, Al.
Williams, Sergt. Smith, Mell Strickland, Sergt. Fletcher, Teddy Fox, Lieut.
Ingraham and all the rest think of something new every few minutes, and I am
full. Poor Robt. Strickland, a boy whom I enlisted, was shot since starting out
on this march to the sea. Others too, whom I left well are now no more. The
boys have had a long and tedious march, yet are all in good health and have
enjoyed the trip. They never tire of telling about their fights and skirmishes,
and anecdotes concerning Kilpatrick, who is well liked by all the soldiers. Am
invited to eat with every mess in the company, also at regimental headquarters,
in fact, anywhere I am a mind to, can fill. And now this Diary is finished and
is full. Shall not write any more, though I hardly know how I shall get along,
without a self-imposed task of some kind.
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