Captain Charles Wright Wills: June 6, 1864

June 6, 1864.

I will try and send you this to-day. Our postmaster never calls for letters, though we could send them if he would. I will try hereafter to send oftener, though you must not feel anxious about me. I will take the best care I can of myself (and do my whole duty). I yet think that to be connected with such a campaign as this is well worth risking one's life for. It occasionally gets a little old, but so does everything in this life, and altogether I don't know but that it wears as well as any of life's pleasures. Do you remember when I was at home how little I knew about good eatables? Here it is a great advantage to me. For five weeks we have been living on “hard tack,” pickled pork and coffee, varied by not half a dozen meals of beef, not even beans or rice. Nearly every one grumbles, but I have as yet felt no loss of appetite, and hardly the desire for a change.

Nearly all the prisoners we capture say they are done fighting and shamefully say, many of them, that if exchanged and put back in the ranks they will shirk rather than fight. It would mortify me very much if I thought any of our men that they captured would talk so. It seems to me that the Confederacy is only held together by its officers exercising at least the power of a Czar, and that should we leave it to itself it would crumble. Well, I am calculating that this campaign will end about the 15th of July, in Atlanta. I cannot hope for a leave of absence again until my time is out, unless I resign, and if active campaigning continues, as some think it will, until the war is over, of course I will have no chance to do the latter. Cousin James is near me here, and I expect to see him soon.

Passed Charlie Maple on the road yesterday; also saw Clegget Birney. He is a splendid looking boy. They say the 7th Cavalry will soon be here; also the 8th Illinois. I will try to write you every week hereafter.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 255-6

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: October 18, 1863

No authentic information of a battle near Manassas has been received at the War Department, although it is certain there has been some heavy skirmishing on the Rappahannock. We have several brigadier-generals wounded, and lost five guns; but, being reinforced, continued the pursuit of the enemy, picking up many prisoners — they say 1500. The pursuit was retarded by the swelling of the streams.

A letter from Major-Gen. Jones, at Dublin Depot, Va., Oct. 14th, leads me to think danger is apprehended in that quarter, the objective point being the Salt Works; and it may be inferred, from the fact that Burnside is still there, that Rosecrans is considered safe, by reason of the heavy reinforcements sent from other quarters.

While I write, the government is having the tocsin sounded for volunteers from the militia to go to the rescue of the Salt Works, which is absurd, as the enemy will either have them before aid can be received from Richmond, or else he will have been driven off by the local troops near that vicinity.

Captain Warner took me in his buggy this morning to the military prisons. He did not lead me into the crowded rooms above, where he said I would be in danger of vermin, but exhibited his cooking apparatus, etc. — which was ample and cleanly. Everywhere I saw the captives peeping through the bars; they occupy quite a number of large buildings — warehouses — and some exhibited vengeful countenances. They have half a pound of beef per day, and plenty of good bread and water — besides vegetables and other matters furnished by themselves. Several new furnaces are in process of erection, and most of the laborers are Federal prisoners, who agree to work (for their own convenience) and are paid for it the usual wages. There are baths to the prisons; and the conduits for venting, etc. have cost some $10,000. To-day the weather is as warm as summer, and no doubt the prisoners sigh for the open air (although all the buildings are well ventilated), and their distant homes in the West — most of them being from the field of Chickamauga.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 73

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: October 13, 1863

Gen. Lee's cavalry are picking up some prisoners, several hundreds having already been sent to Richmond. It is said the advance of his army has been delayed several weeks for want of commissary stores, while Commissary-General Northrop's or Major Ruffin's agent Moffitt, it is alleged, has been selling beef (gross) to the butchers at 50 cents per pound, after buying or impressing at from 16 to 20 cents.

Gen. Lee writes that a scout (from Washington ?) informs him that Gen. Gilmore has been ordered to take Charleston at all hazards, and, failing in the attempt, to make a flank movement and seize upon Branchville; which he (Gen. Lee) deems an unlikely feat.

What a change! The young professors and tutors who shouldered their pens and became clerks in the departments are now resigning, and seeking employment in country schools remote from the horrid sounds of war so prevalent in the vicinity of the Capitol, and since they were ordered to volunteer in the local companies, which will probably have some sharp practice in the field. They are intent, however, on “teaching the young idea how to shoot.” The young chiefs of bureaus, being fixed “for life,” did not volunteer.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 70-1

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: October 12, 1863

Hon. G. A. Henry, Senator from Tennessee, writes to the Secretary that it is rumored that Gen. Pemberton is to command Gen. Polk's corps in Tennessee. He says if this be true, it will be disastrous; that the Tennessee troops will not serve under him, but will mutiny and desert.

                                

It is reported to-day by Gen. Elzey (on what information I know not) that Meade's army has been reduced to 30,000 or 40,000 men, by the heavy reinforcements sent to extricate Rosecrans. Be this as it may, there is no longer any doubt that Lee is advancing toward the Potomac, and the enemy is retreating. This must soon culminate in something of interest.

I saw Commissary-General Northrop to-day, and he acknowledges that Mr. Moffitt, who sells beef (gross) to the butchers at from 45 to 55 cents, is one of his agents, employed by Major Ruffin, to purchase beef for the army! The schedule price is from 16 to 20 cents, and he pays no more, for the government — and if he buys for himself, it is not likely he pays more — and so we have a government agent a speculator in meat, and co-operating with speculators! Will Mr. Secretary Seddon permit this?

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 70

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: October 11, 1863

I attended a meeting of “mechanics” and citizens at the City Hall last night. The prime mover of this organization is E. B. Robinson, some twenty years ago one of my printers in the Madisonian office. It was fully attended, and although not so boisterous as might have been expected, was, nevertheless, earnest and determined in its spirit. Resolutions instructing Mr. Randolph (State Senator, and late Secretary of War) to vote for a bill before the General Assembly reducing and fixing the prices of the necessities of life, were passed unanimously; also one demanding his resignation, in the event of his hesitating to obey. He was bitterly denounced by the speakers.

I understood yesterday, from the butchers, that they have been buying beef cattle, not from the producers, but from a Mr. Moffitt (they say a commissary agent), at from 45 to 55 cents gross; and hence they are compelled to retail it (net) at from 75 cents to $1.25 per pound to the people. If this be so, and the commissary buys at government prices, 18 to 22 cents, a great profit is realized by the government or its agent at the expense of a suffering people. How long will the people suffer thus? This community is even now in an inflammable condition, and may be ignited by a single spark. The flames of insurrection may at any moment wrap this slumbering government in its destructive folds; and yet the cabinet cannot be awakened to a sense of the danger. Mr. Seddon (who may be better informed than others), deeply sunken in his easy chair, seems perfectly composed; but he cannot know that his agents are permitted to prey upon the people: and the complaints and charges sent to him are acted upon by his subordinates, who have orders not to permit business of secondary importance to engage his attention; and his door-keepers have instructions to refuse admittance to persons below a certain rank.

Nothing but the generous and brave men in the army could have saved us from destruction long ago, and nothing else can save us hereafter. If our independence shall be achieved, it will be done in spite of the obstructions with which the cause has been burdened by the stupidity or mismanagement of incompetent or dishonest men.

“the Sufferings Of The Border Missourians. — The people of Missouri, on the Kansas border, are being slaughtered without mercy under the authority of the Yankee commander of that department, Schofield. A letter to the St. Louis Republican (Yankee) says:

“On Sunday last the desire for blood manifested itself in the southeastern part of Jackson County, not far from the village of Lone Jack. Although it was Sunday, the people of that region, alarmed and terror-stricken by threats from Kansas, and cruel edicts, from headquarters of the district, were hard at work straining every nerve to get ready to leave their homes before this memorable 9th day of September, 1863.

“One party of these unfortunate victims of a cruel order had almost completed their preparations, and within half an hour's time would have commenced their weary wanderings in search of a home. It consisted of Benjamin Potter, aged seventy-five; John S. Cave, aged fifty; William Hunter, aged forty-seven; David Hunter, aged thirty-five; William C. Tate, aged thirty; Andrew Owsley, aged seventeen; and Martin Rice and his son. While thus engaged in loading their wagons with such effects as they supposed would. be most useful to them, a detachment of Kansas troops (said to be part of the Kansas 9th, though this may be a mistake), under command of Lieut.-Col. Clark and Capt. Coleman, came up and took them all prisoners.

“After a little parleying, Mr. Rice and his son were released and ordered to leave; which they did, of course. They had not gone much over three-fourths of a mile before they heard firing at the point at which they had left the soldiers with the remaining prisoners. In a short time the command moved on, and the wives and other relatives of the prisoners rushed up to ascertain their fate. It was a horrid spectacle.

“There lay six lifeless forms — mangled corpses — so shockingly mangled that it was difficult, my informant stated, to identify some of them. They were buried where they were murdered, without coffins, by a few friends who had expected to join them on that day, with their families, and journey in search of a home.

“These are the unvarnished facts with reference to an isolated transaction. There are many, very many others of a similar character that I might mention, but I will not. The unwritten and secret history of our border would amaze the civilized world, and would stagger the faith of the most credulous. In the case just mentioned, we find an old man who had passed his threescore and ten, and a youth who had not yet reached his score, falling victims to this thirsty cry for blood.

“The world will doubtless be told that six more bushwhackers have been cut off, etc. But believe it not, sir; it is not true. These six men never were in arms, neither in the bush or elsewhere, I have been told by one who has known them for years past. The widows and orphans of some of them passed through this city yesterday, heart-broken, homeless wanderers.”

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 67-70

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

Another delightfully cool morning. There are not a great many guards here to watch over us, and it would be possible for all to break away without much trouble. The men, however, are so sure of liberty that they prefer to wait until given legitimately. Would like to have seen this guard hold us last summer at Andersonville. Fresh meat again to-day. Rebels go out to neighboring plantations and take cattle, drive them here, and butcher for us to eat. Rice is also given us to eat. Have plenty of wood to cook with. Have traded off the old missmated pair of brogans for a smaller and good pair, and feel quite like a dandy. Have some money to buy extras. Have plenty of food yet from that given me at Doctortown. Divide with the Bucks, or rather, it is all one common mess, and what any one owns belongs equally to the others. Rebels glum and cross, and sometimes we laugh at them, and then they swear and tell us to shut up or they will blow our heads off. Blackshear is a funny name and it is a funny town, if there is any, for as yet I haven't been able to see it. Probably a barn and a hen-coop comprise the place. Cars go thundering by as if the Yanks were after them About every train loaded with troops. Go first one way and then the other. Think they are trying to keep out of the way themselves.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 131-2

James Monroe, Peter Heines, Henry James Morris, and Matthew Bodams to William Still, August 17, 1856

TORONTO, C. W., Aug. 17th, 1856.

MR. STILL: — Dear Sir — These few lines may find you as they leave us, we are well at present and arrived safe in Toronto. Give our respects to Mrs. S.— and daughter. Toronto is a very extensive place. We have plenty of pork, beef and mutton. There are five market houses and many churches. Female wages is 62½ cents per day, men's wages is $1 and york shilling. We are now boarding at Mr. George Blunt’s, on Centre street, two doors from Elm, back of Lawyer's Hall, and when you write to us, direct your letter to the care of Mr. George Blunt, &c.

James Monroe, Peter Heines, Henry James Morris, and Matthew Bodams.

SOURCE: William Still, The Underground Railroad: A Record of Facts, Authentic Narratives, Letters &c., p. 317

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

Blackshear is an out-of-the-way place, and shouldn't think the Yankee army would ever find us here. The climate is delightful. Here it is December and at the North right in the middle of winter, and probably good sleighing, and cold; while here it is actually warm during the day time, and at night not uncomfortably cold. The Buck boys are jolly good fellows, and full of fun. Seem to have taken a new lease of life myself. Both of them are in good health and fleshy, and open for an escape any hour. And we don't stay here but a few days, the guards say. Why not keep us on the cars and run us around the country all the time? There is no wall or anything around us here, only guards. Encamped right in the open air. Have food once a day, just whatever they have to give us. Last night had sweet potatoes. I am getting considerably heavier in weight, and must weigh one hundred and forty pounds or more. Still lame, however, and I fear permanently so. Teeth are firm in my mouth now, and can eat as well as ever, and oh! such an appetite. Would like to see the pile of food that I couldn't eat. Found Rowe and Bullock, and Hub Dakin. They are well, and all live in jolly expectancy of the next move. The old coverlid still protects my person. The Bucks have also each a good blanket, and we are comfortable. Some fresh beef given us to-day; not much, but suppose all they have got. Guard said he wished to God he was one of us prisoners instead of guarding us.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 131

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 2nd Lieutenant Luman Harris Tenney: May 13, 1864

Comparatively quiet today. Christ's brigade, Pa. and Mich. 9th Corps badly cut up in a charge. Com. killed beef and took to the command. Saw a paper of the 11th. Forage train arrived.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 116

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Luman Harris Tenney: May 10, 1864

During the day went to the regt. Some beef, 16½ cents per pound. Thomas and I went to the front. Arrived there at nearly sundown just as a charge was to be made. Gen. Grant, Meade and several lesser generals with staffs out. We fell in. Col. Upton's Brigade charged and took the enemy's works with a brigade of rebs under Dough. Grant had one of his never-ending stubs in his mouth, and puffed freely. Both Grant and Meade looked serious and thoughtful till the news of success came. Then they seemed pleased. Grant said “That looks like desperation, surrendering without firing a gun.” But they had held their ground stubbornly during the day. Grant said “A brigade today, will try a corps tomorrow.” Never felt more animated. I felt such a relief from the suspense and anxiety which had been upon me for several days. I presume nearly the whole of the army and country are as uneasy and anxious as I. I awake frequently during the night. "H." moved half a mile last night towards Fredericksburg. Rained most all day. Heavy fighting all day, with little success. Several charges made, but rebs repulsed them.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 115

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: October 18, 1864

Every day since last writing I have continued to improve, and no end to my appetite. Now walk a trifle with the aid of crutches Coming cool, and agrees with me. have fresh beef issued to us. Mike not yet gone. Battese went some days ago with others to our lines, at least it was supposed to our lines. Hope to see him sometime. Many have gangrene. Millen still talked of. See city papers every day, and they have a discouraged tone as if their cause were on its last legs. Mike goes to night for sure, he says. Think if I was in his place would not try to get away, we are so comfortable here. Still liberty is everything, and none know what it is except those deprived of it. It's a duty, we think, to escape if possible, and it seems possible to get away from here. Rebel guards that I sometimes come in contact with are marines who belong to rebel gunboats stationed in the mouth of Savannah River and are on duty here for a change from boat life. They seem a kindly set, and I don't belive they would shoot a prisoner if they saw him trying to get away.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 104-5

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

Havn't time to write much; busy eating. Mouth getting better, cords in my legs loosening up. Battese has not gone; was here to day and got a square meal. Don't much think that I have heretofore mentioned the fact that I have two small gold rings, which has been treasured carefully all during my imprisonment. They were presents to me before leaving home; it is needless to say they were from lady friends. Have worn them part of the time and part of the time they have been secreted about my clothes. Yankee rings are in great demand by the guards; crave delicacies and vegetables so much that think I may be pardoned for letting them go now, and as Mike says he can get a bushel of sweet potatoes for them, have told him to make the trade, and he says will do it. Sweet potatoes sliced up and put in a dish and cooked with a piece of beef and seasoned, make a delicious soup. There are grayback lice in the hospital, just enough for company's sake — should feel lonesome without them. Great many visitors come to look at us and from my bunk can see them come through the gate; yankees are a curiosity in this southern port, as none were ever kept here before; I hear that the citizens donate bread and food to the prisoners.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 101

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

Captain Charles Wright Wills: October 2, 1863

October 2, 1863.

Our foraging party brought in forty mules, fifty cattle, beef, twenty-one hogs and thirty sheep. They report a beautiful, rich country, and abundance of eatables within five miles of the landing. Went with party of bee hunters in the p. m. They had found the tree in the forenoon. They took two bucketsful of most beautiful white comb. One of my sergeants in an hour to-day found three trees, and by dark had taken the honey from all of them. We are to stay here and haul wood for the whole division (damn).

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 195

Captain William Thompson Lusk & Elizabeth Adams Lusk, November 26, 1862

Near Falmouth,

Nov. 26th, 1862.

My dear Mother:

I have selected the most inviting of the paper Nellie sent me to write you to-day — such nice paper I thought it would be to write a love-letter on, to some dainty little lady. I have lighted a real good cigar, and fancy I might be delightfully sentimental, but nearly five years absence from home has left me, alas! with no dainty little lady acquaintances, time having changed them into interesting matrons. So as my own mother is the most interesting matron of my acquaintance, I find myself writing to her.

To-morrow will be Thanksgiving Day. The manner in which it is supposed to be observed in camp you will find interestingly pictured in last week's “Frank Leslie.” I suppose we will dine in reality to-morrow on coffee and crackers and fried beefsteak. Still these things satisfy the appetite, and are even capable of producing dyspepsia, notwithstanding the popular notion that such an evil is confined to the pampered denizens of cities. You must take Sam Elliott's descriptions of camp-life cum grano salis, remembering what wonderful descriptive powers he possesses. I do not doubt he pictures the horrors so vividly that the hearers suffer far more from listening to his accounts, than the actual victims do from experiencing the reality.

You will see Wm. Elliott I suppose. Tell him then that I must have written authority from him to collect the money for his lost horse. I wish to serve him, but need the writing to enable me to act. My special friend, Lt.-Col. Morrison, played me another amiable trick tonight, having appointed More Major of the Regiment, subject to the approval of the Governor of New-York. This was in the first place unnecessary, as More has not yet reported for duty. Then it was a thing he had no special power to do, Col. Farnsworth (so he writes me) having already recommended me to the Gov. for the position. But it was a cunning trick, as, should my appointment occur in the face of his own published to the Regiment, endless troubles could easily be made to result. Yet Morrison to my face is the sweetest, most amiable among the artificers of brasses for andirons.

Capt. who so flatteringly presented my prospects and deserts to Uncle Phelps, was at the same time, Farnsworth writes me, the bitterest of my opponents, and using his best efforts to ruin me in New-York and Albany. They are a sweet set among whom I have fallen. They owe Elliott and myself an old grudge for the favor Stevens showed us, which they now have an opportunity to repay. They have fixed Elliott's case for him, and they are busy settling mine. However I have recovered my amiability, and no longer feeling any hope of escape, am not a little amused at the trouble they take regarding me. I tell them everything candidly, so that they need be at no pains on my account, but they, not supposing it possible for a man to be staightforward, exhaust any amount of useless cunning to gain their ends. And the best of it all is, that while all this working is going on, we are all such capital friends that it is really delightful to see brethren live in such harmony together.

With regard to the intended Army movements we are all utterly in the fog, the time passing and the mud growing deeper, while batteries are being built by the enemy under our very noses. What's the use of questioning? Time will show.

I shall think of you feasting merrily to-morrow, mindful of the absent son and brother, and wish you all joy.

I am wearing the stockings you sent me and find them glorious. I am generally quite comfortable now, from the contents of the box my friends prepared and sent me. You must thank all those to whom I am indebted, in my name. I shall send this letter to New-York direct, supposing it may reach you sooner so. Love to Lilly, Mary, Hunt, Tom, and the Infant Department.

Affec'y.,

Will.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 233-5

Diary of Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Friday, April 3, 1863

Monday's fight at Point Pleasant was a fine affair; twenty Rebels killed and fifty taken prisoners, of whom twenty-four were wounded. Colonel Comly returned with [Companies] E and K on Tuesday or Wednesday.

Jackson Smith [a prisoner] says: “[The] Eighth Virginia is commanded by Colonel Corns; Colonel Ferguson [commands] the Sixteenth Virginia. We took a near cut from Marion to Jeffersonville, crossing Holston River and Brush, Poor Valley and Rich Mountains, about twenty-eight miles in two days, leaving Marion, March 14. Waggons followed by turnpike from Wytheville. [On the] 16th, camped at Jeffersonville. [The] 17th, twelve miles to Abbs Valley; 18th, twelve miles into McDowell County; 19th, twelve miles to Tug Fork in McDowell County. Eight days’ rations issued, crackers and dried beef. [The] 20th, three miles up Tug and crossed. [The] 21st, twelve or fourteen [miles] to Cub Creek; crossed [the] Guyandotte in canoes. [The] 24th, passed Logan Court-house; 25th I came up Big Creek to Turtle Creek; down Turtle Creek to Coal.”

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 401-2

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 2nd Lieutenant Luman Harris Tenney: January 1, 1864

1st. Happy New Year! Gay and festive. Frozen and just starving. Re-enlistment question presented to the boys. Three from the 2nd Ohio. Took dinner at hdqrs., at white house. Cabbage and beef and mutton. Had a chat with the people. All have suffered badly. Even underclothes taken during the late fights by rebs, also wheat and corn. First-rate visit with Col. Garrard and Allen. Review of campaign. Hard bread, flour and pork for the boys. Makes me happy. Don't ask more satisfaction than to get plenty of rations. Have been half crazy with anxiety for days.

First command in line east of Mossy Creek. Rained last night. Turned cold about 12 P. M. and blew a hurricane. Awful tedious day. Boys must suffer very much. Col. and staff up and around fires early.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 104