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

Camp Lawton, Millen, Ga. — Arrived at our destination not far from midnight, and it was a tedious journey. Two died in the car I was in. Were taken from the cars to this prison in what they call ambulances, but what I call lumber wagons. Are now congregated in the south-east corner of the stockade under hastily put up tents. This morning we have drawn rations, both the sick and the well, which are good and enough. The stockade is similar to that at Andersonville, but in a more settled country, the ground high and grassy, and through the prison runs a stream of good pure water, with no swamp at all. It is apparently a pleasant and healthy location. A portion of the prison is timber land, and the timber has been cut down and lays where it fell, and the men who arrived before us have been busily at work making shanties and places to sleep in. There are about six thousand prisoners here, and I should judge there was room for twelve or fifteen thousand. Men say they are given food twice each day, which consists of meal and fresh beef in rather small quantities, but good and wholesome. The rebel officer in command is a sociable and kindly disposed man, and the guards are not strict, that is, not cruelly so. We are told that our stay here will be short  A number of our men have been detailed to cook the food for the sick, and their well being is looked to by the rebel surgeon as well as our own men. The same surgeon who for the last ten days had charge of us in Savannah has charge of us now He does not know over and above much but on the whole does very well. Barrels of molasses (nigger toe) have been rolled inside and it is being issued to the men, about one-fourth of a pint to each man, possibly a little more. Some of the men, luxuriantly, put their allowances together and make molasses candy of it. One serious drawback is the scarcity of dishes, and one man I saw draw his portion is his two hands, which held it until his comrade could find a receptacle for it.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 109-10

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: October 28, 1864

Am feeling splendid, and legs most straight. Getting fat fast. Am to be a nurse soon. Reported that they are moving prisoners to Millen. Over a thousand went yesterday. About ten thousand of the Andersonville prisoners came to Savannah, ten thousand went to Florence and ten to Charleston, S. C. Only the sick were left behind there, and it is said they died like sheep after the well ones went away. Great excitement among the Gray-coats. Some bad army news for them, I reckon. Negroes at work fortifying about the city.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 106-7

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: October 19, 1864

Last night I talked with a guard while Mike Hoare went out of his tunnel and got away safely from the hospital. The guard was on the inside and I hobbled to where he was and engaged him in conversation and Mike crawled away. It seems that Mike learned of some union Irish citizens in the city and his idea is to reach them which he may do, as there are scarcely any troops about the city, all being to the front. Now I am alone, best friends all gone one way or the other. The only acquaintances here now are Land and Sergt. Winn, with whom I became acquainted in Andersonville. Not like my other friends though. It is said there are half a dozen hospitals similar to this in Savannah which are filled with Andersonville wrecks. They have need to do something to redeem themselves from past conduct. Don't believe that it is the Confederacy that is taking such good care of us, but it is the city of Savannah; that is about the way it is as near as I can find out.

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

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: October 14, 1864

Did not write any yesterday. A man named Hinton died in our tent at about two o'clock this morning, and his bunk is already filled by another sick man. None die through neglect here; all is done that could reasonably be expected. The pants with those buttons on to be taken North for a little boy whose father died in Andersonville, were taken away from me when first taken to the hospital. Have also lost nearly all the relics, pictures and letters given me to take North. For a week or ten days could take care of nothing. Winn took charge of the book that I am writing in now and Battese had the other two books, and now they are all together safe in my charge. Wonder if any one will ever have the patience or time to read it all? Not less than a thousand pages of finely written crow tracks, and some places blurred and unintelligable from being wet and damp. As I set up in my bunk my legs are just fitted for hanging down over the side, and have not been straightened for three or four months Rub the cords with an ointment furnished me by physician and can see a change for the better. Legs are blue, red and shiny and in some places the skin seems calloused to the bone

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 103-4

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

Mike traded off the gold rings for three pecks of sweet potatoes and half a dozen onions; am in clover. Make nice soup out of beef, potatoe, bread, onion and salt; can trade a sweet potatoe for most anything. Mike does the cooking and I do the eating; he won't eat my potatoes, some others do though and without my permission. 'Tis. ever thus, wealth brings care and trouble. Battese came to-day to see me and gave him some sweet potatoes. He is going away soon the rebels having promised to send him with next batch of sailors; is a favorite with rebels. Mike baking bread to take with him in his flight. Set now at the door of the tent on a soap box; beautiful shade trees all over the place. Am in the 5th Ward, tent No. 12; covered still does me good service. Many die here but not from lack of attention or medicine. They haven't the vitality to rally after their sufferings at Andersonville. Sisters of Charity go from tent to tent looking after men of their own religion; also citizens come among us Wheat bread we have quite often and is donated by citizens. Guards walk on the outside of the wall and only half a dozen or so on the inside, two being at the gate; not necessary to guard the sick very close. Should judge the place was some fine private residence before being transformed into the Marine Hospital. Have good water. What little hair I have is coming off; probably go home bald-headed.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 102-3

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: October 9, 1864

The reason we have not been exchanged is because if the exchange is made it will put all the men held by the union forces right into the rebel army, while the union prisoners of war held by the rebels are in no condition to do service; that would seem to me to be a very poor reason. Rowe and Bullock are in the main prison I hear, and well; it is one of the miracles that Bullock lived as he was ailing all through Andersonville. Brass buttons with hens on (eagles) are eagerly sought after by the guards. Mike still harping on escape, but I attend right to the business of getting enough to eat. Although can't eat much have the appetite all the same. The rebel M. D., by name Pendleton, or some such name, says if I am not careful will have a relapse, and is rather inclined to school days I get along all together too fast, and tells the nurse and Mike and Land, that I must not eat but little at a time and then only such food as he may direct, and if I don't do as he says, will put me in the main building away from-my friends. Says it is suicide the way some act after a long imprisonment. Well, suppose he is right and I must go slow. Names of yankee officers marked on the tents that have occupied them as prisoner of war before us.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 102

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

All in Andersonville will remember Daly, who used to drive the bread wagon into that place. He came to Savannah with us and was in this hospital; a few days ago he went away with some sailors to be exchanged. Soon after leaving Savannah he fell off the cars and was killed, and a few hours after leaving here was brought back and buried; it is said he had been drinking. Getting better every day, eat right smart. Mike waiting for a favorable chance to escape and in the meantime is getting well; heard that Battese has gone away with sailors to our lines Its wonderful the noticeable change of air here from that at Andersonville — wonder that any lived a month inhaling the poison. If some of those good fellows that died there, Jimmy Devers, Dr. Lewis, Swain, McGuire and scores of others, had lived through it to go home with me, should feel better. Have a disagreeable task to perform — that of going to see the relatives of fifteen or twenty who died and deliver messages. Rebel surgeons act as if the war was most over, and not like very bad enemies. Fresh beef issued to those able to eat it which is not me; can chew nothing hard, in fact cannot chew at all. Am all tired out and will stop for to-day.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 100-1

,Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: October 4, 1864

Am now living splendid; vegetable diet is driving off the scurvy and dropsy, in fact the dropsy has dropped out but the effect remains. Set up now part of the time and talk like a runaway horse until tired out and then collapse. Heard that all the prisoners are going to be sent to Millen, Ga. Wrote a few lines directed to my father in Michigan. Am now given more food but not much at a time. Two poor fellows in our tent do not get along as well as I do, although Land is doing well and is going to be a nurse. The hospital is not guarded very close and Mike Hoare cannot resist the temptation to escape. Well, joy go with him. Dosed with quinine and beastly to take. Battese on his last visit to me left the two first books of my diary which he had in his possession. There is no doubt but he has saved my life, although he will take no credit for it. It is said all were moved from Andersonville to different points; ten thousand went to Florence, ten thousand to Charleston and ten thousand to Savannah; but the dead stay there and will for all time to come. What a terrible place and what a narrow escape I had of it Seems to me that fifteen thousand died while I was there; an army almost and as many men as inhabit a city of fifty thousand population.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 100

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

The hospital is crowded now with sick; about thirty die now each day. Men who walked away from Andersonville, and come to get treatment, are too far gone to rally, and die. Heard Jeff. Davis' speech read to-day. He spoke of an exchange soon. I am better where I am for a few weeks yet. Number of sailors went to-day. Knaw onion, raw sweet potato. Battese here, will stay all day and go back to night. Says he is going with marines to be exchanged. Give him food, which he is loth to eat although hungry. Says he will come to see me after I get home to Michigan.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 100

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: September 25, 1864

Can eat better — or drink rather; Some rebel general dead and buried with honors outside. Had another wash and general clean up; ocean breezes severe for invalids. Am visited twice a day by the rebel surgeon who instructs nurses about treatment. Food principally arrow root; have a little whisky. Sleep great deal of the time. Land, my acquaintance and mess-mate, is lame from scurvy, but is not weak and sick as I am. When I think of anything, say: “Land, put her down,” and he writes what I tell him. Everything clean here, but then any place is clean after summering in Andersonville. Don't improve much and sometimes not at all; get blue sometimes; nature of the beast suppose; other sick in the tent worry and make me nervous.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 97

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: September 15, 1864

Marine Hospital, Savannah, Ga. — A great change has taken place since I last wrote in my diary. Am in heaven now compared with the past. At about midnight, September 7th, our detachment was ordered outside at Andersonville, and Battese picked me up and carried me to the gate. The men were being let outside in ranks of four, and counted as they went out, They were very strict about letting none go but the well ones, or those who could walk. The rebel adjutant stood upon a box by the gate, watching very close Pitch pine knots were burning in the near vicinity to give light. As it came our turn to go Battese got me in the middle of the rank, stood me up as well as I could stand, and with himself on one side, and Sergt. Rowe on the other began pushing our way through the gate. Could not help myself a particle, and was so faint that I hardly knew what was going on. As we were going through the gate the adjutant yells out: “Here, here! hold on there, that man can't go, hold on there!” and Battese crowding right along outside. The adjutant struck over the heads of the men and tried to stop us, but my noble Indian friend kept straight ahead, hallooing: “He all right, he well, he go!” And so I got outside, and adjutant having too much to look after to follow me. After we were outside, I was carried to the railroad in the same coverlid which I fooled the rebel out of when captured, and which I presume has saved my life a dozen times. We were crowded very thick into box cars I was nearly dead, and hardly knew where we were or what was going on. We were two days in getting to Savannah. Arrived early in the morning. The railroads here run in the middle of very wide, handsome streets. We were unloaded, I should judge, near the middle of the city. The men as they were unloaded, fell into line and were marched away. Battese got me out of the car, and laid me on the pavement. They then obliged him to go with the rest, leaving me; would not let him take me. I lay there until noon with four or five others, without any guard. Three or four times negro servants came to us from houses near by, and gave us water, milk and food. With much difficulty I could set up, but was completely helpless. A little after noon a wagon came and toted us to a temporary hospital in the outskirts of the city, and near a prison pen they had just built for the well ones. Where I was taken it was merely an open piece of ground, having wall tents erected and a line of guards around it. I was put into a tent and lay on the coverlid. That night some gruel was given to me, and a nurse whom I had seen in Andersonville looked in, and my name was taken. The next morning, September 10th, I woke up and went to move my hands, and could not do it; could not move either limb so much as an inch. Could move my head with difficulty. Seemed to be paralyzed, but in no pain whatever. After a few hours a physician came to my tent, examined and gave me medicine, also left medicine, and one of the nurses fed me some soup or gruel. By night I could move my hands. Lay awake considerable through the night thinking. Was happy as a clam in high tide. Seemed so nice to be under a nice clean tent, and there was such cool pure air. The surroundings were so much better that I thought now would be a good time to die, and I didn't care one way or the other. Next morning the doctor came, and with him Sergt. Winn. Sergt Winn I had had a little acquaintance with at Andersonville Doctor said I was terribly reduced, but he thought I would improve. Told them to wash me. A nurse came and washed me, and Winn brought me a white cotton shirt, and an old but clean pair of pants; my old clothing, which was in rags, was taken away. Two or three times during the day I had gruel of some kind, I don't know what. Medicine was given me by the nurses. By night I could move my feet and legs a little. The cords in my feet and legs were contracted so, of course, that I couldn't straighten myself out. Kept thinking to myself, “am I really away from that place Andersonville?” It seemed too good to be true. On the morning of the 12th, ambulances moved all to the Marine Hospital, or rather an orchard in same yard with Marine Hospital, where thirty or forty nice new tents have been put up, with banks about two feet from the ground, inside. Was put into a tent. By this time could move my arms considerable. We were given vinegar weakened with water, and also salt in it Had medicine. My legs began to get movable more each day, also my arms, and to day I am laying on my stomach and writing in my diary. Mike Hoare is also in this hospital. One of my tentmates is a man named Land, who is a printer, same as myself. I hear that Wm. B Rowe is here also, but haven't seen him.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 93-5

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

Sanders taken outside to butcher cattle. Is sick but goes all the same. Mike sick and no longer a policeman. Still rumors of exchange.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 93

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: September 2, 1864

Just about the same; rumors afloat does me good[.] Am the most hopeful chap on record.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 93

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

Trade off my rations for some little luxury and manage to get up quite a soup. Later.—Sanders sent in to us a quite large piece of fresh beef and a little salt; another God send.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 93

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: September 4, 1864

Anything good to eat lifts me right up, and the beef soup has done it.

The beef critter is a noble animal. Very decided exchange rumors.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 93

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

The nice spring of cold water still flows and furnishes drinking water for all; police guard it night and day so to be taken away only in small quantities. Three hundred said to be dying off each day.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 93

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

Hurrah! Hurrah!! Hurrah!!! Can't holler except on paper. Good news. Seven detachments ordered to be ready to go at a moment's notice. Later.—All who cannot walk must stay behind. If left behind shall die in twenty-four hours. Battese says I shall go. Later.—Seven detachments are going out of the gate; all the sick are left behind. Ours is the tenth detachment and will go to-morrow so said. The greatest excitement; men wild with joy. Am worried fearful that I cannot go, but Battese says I shall.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 93

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: September 7, 1864

Anxiously waiting the expected summons. Rebels say as soon as transportation comes, and so a car whistle is music to our ears. Hope is a good medicine and am sitting up and have been trying to stand up but can't do it; legs too crooked and with every attempt get faint. Men laugh at the idea of my going, as the rebels are very particular not to let any one go, still Battese say I am going. Most Dark.—Rebels say we go during the night when transportation comes. Battese grinned when this news come and can't get his face straightened out again.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 93

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

Sleep nearly all the time except when too hot to do so.

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