Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop: Monday, May 9, 1864

About 10 a. m., the train having come back, we got on for Lynchburg. I had a flat car next to the engine, exposed to the sun, smoke and cinders. The passage was very disagreeable. The only place of account on the way is Amherst Court House. Arriving at Lynchburg, 3 p. m., we marched through the town exposed to the wondering gaze of all classes. A motley crowd gathered at every corner, blacks and whites indiscriminately mixed, some the dirtiest objects generally found in the filthiest portions of cities. Had I seen So many black and white heads together in New York or New England my conservative inclinations would have upbraided my abolishion sentiments about amalgamation, about reducing white folks to the level of the niggers. The town is dirty, dilapidated; streets cluttered with business, it being a depot for military supplies and a rendezvous for troops, situated on the right bank of the James River and on the Kanawah Canal and the Virginia and Tennessee Railroad; population about 13,000. They marched us a mile out of the city, and stopped in a deep hollow by a fine stream. On one side is a high, rocky hill. Here are all prisoners recently captured, except officers, who are locked up in the city. Our guards are mostly citizens, boys and old men, equipped by themselves or with such guns as the provost could pick up. Most of them are impressed and drilled by invalid soldiers. I observed one man about fifty, very corpulent, good naturedly inclined, dressed in common citizen's coat and pants, white vest, white stove pipe hat, with a weed, armed with a shotgun, pacing his beat. He said he would like to converse but dare not. From the brow of the hill several cannon command the camp. I saw several citizens imprisoned in the city on parole who sympathized with the North. One guard inquired as we came out from the city, what we did with deserters from their army. He said they were told they were hanged by our authorities. He is a sergeant, had contemplated deserting; had a brother who deserted last winter. I gave him all information I could and intimated that a few of us would like to strike for the Blue Ridge that night. He said it would be death to attempt escape. We soon became convinced that it was quite impossible. I here learn of some I knew, being killed and wounded; that our division was badly cut up, and the loss of Generals Wadsworth, Rice and Robinson. Nothing to eat. No rations seen today. I spread my coat on the ground at night and lay down to sleep.

The Nation's in a sorry fix,

Tremendous family jar!

'Cause freedom and slavery couldn't mix,

The Johnnies went to war,

And when we meet them in their tricks,

Whine, "What you'ns fight we'uns for?"

We fight you for your cause is bad;

Your leaders honest blood have shed;

In South have human rights forbade

And wrongly have your hearts misled.

You challenge us to fight this war;

Our rights in Southland are effaced.

That's what "we'uns fight you'ns for,"

Or stand before the world disgraced.

The average Johnnie does not know

The baleful nature of his cause.

He's heard Davis, Toombs and Yancey blow,

And joined in brainless, wild hurrahs

To 'lect Buchanan, and so and so,

Pledged to enforce all slavery laws,

Slaveholders asking "Mo', give mo',"

Demands that never brooked a pause.

We've often warned them to go slow,

To curb their cursed maws.

Then they rebellious teeth would show

And gnash their wrathful jaws,

And swear they'd from the Union go

Or dictate all its laws;

For government, from long ago,

They've grasped with greedy paws;

Persistently have lobbied so

For some new pro-slavery clause.

They fell down in their Kansas muss—

They forced a savage fight—

Then started up this bigger fuss,

And we're in it up to sight.

I know not when the fuss 'll end;

It has been hard and hot;

But to the finish we'll contend,

And they'll lose every slave they've got.

The power they so long did wield,

We'll break forevermore,

And bleach its bones upon the field

And Freedom's cause restore.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 42-4

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, September 10, 1862

CAMP MILLINGTON. We were too tired last night to look about and see where we were. This morning we were ourselves again, and began to take stock of our surroundings. We are in a newly seeded field, sloping generally to the east, though the upper part of it is nearly level. The place is called Millington, so we have named our camp, "Camp Millington." We pitched our tents in such a hurry that it had not a very orderly appearance, and after breakfast we divided up into companies, and each has tried to beat the other in slicking up.

We have quite an extended view. Towards the east we can see for miles across a sandy plain clear to the waters of Chesapeake Bay. Baltimore lies to the north. In other directions little but trees can be seen. Right in front runs a large brook, which turns the wheels of a flour mill, from which loads of flour are constantly being taken. Back of the mill, and not far from it, runs a railroad, said to be the Baltimore and Ohio. All day long, trains have been running, and the most of them loaded with soldiers. Some go towards Baltimore and some the other way. If I knew what it all means I would tell, but we are all strangers to the place and there is no use asking questions. Guards are posted on every side of us, and outside of that another line of guards called pickets are posted. We were called up and talked to by Major Parker. A whole lot of rules were given out, which, if they are observed, will make the 128th a model regiment and each member of it a gentleman. I have sewed on my corporal stripes to-day, having carried them in my pocket until now. The only difference I have yet found out between a corporal and a private soldier is that a corporal does not have to stand guard. If we are really going to stay here I expect the next thing will be learning how to march, taking up the lesson where we left off in Hudson. From the way the regiment that escorted us through Baltimore handled themselves, I can see we have a whole lot to learn yet.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 23-4

Major-General Ulysses S. Grant to Major-General James B. McPherson, July 15, 1863

Head Quarters, Dept. of the Ten.        

Vicksburg Miss. July 15th 1863.

Maj, Gen. J. B. McPherson,
        Comd.g 17th Army Corps.

GEN.

Some ladies just in from eight miles in the country applying for a guard at their house state that guards are at almost every house through the country. That the negroes are armed and wors[e] than the straggling soldiers. I wish you would instruct your Cavalry to patrol the country as much as possible and bring in all guards and send them to their regiments and all stragglers and armed negroes and put them at work in the city. It is highly probable that most of the guards are self constituted guards. In that case they should be punished same as stragglers.

Very respectfully

U. S. Grant        

Maj. Gen. Com

SOURCE: John Y. Simon, Editor, The Papers of Ulysses S. Grant, Volume 9, p. 53

Diary of Sergeant Major Luman Harris Tenney: July 27, 1863

Guards and team came for us soon after breakfast and gave us a ride to Columbus. Provo. Marshal examined us and sent us to guard house, supposed to be implicated in stealing horses. Thede and I do not feel worried at all, for we know we are in the right. The Sergt. Major of the 18th Regulars was the man who caused us the trouble — a Dutch upstart with little brains — was all in a tremor and frightened.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 80-1

3rd Sergeant Charles Wright Wills: October 18, 1861

Bird's Point, October 18, 1861

We yesterday drew our overcoats, and splendid ones they are. The cloth is light blue and they reach nearly to our feet. They have capes on them that come over a fellow's head nicely nights. The weather is about like you have I expect, but I know we will be very comfortable with the clothing we have in any weather. I wouldn't have the war end before next spring for anything, for I want to try a winter out doors. Every one of the Canton boys is in excellent health and all very well satisfied. The boys are receiving letters almost every day that read “we have heard that so and so is sick,” and this morning John Wallace got one that said that Sam Nutt and three others were shot while on guard. You may know that such reports are always lies unless you see it with the names in the papers long before a letter would reach you from here. John Wallace is just one of the best boys in the camp. It would do you good to see how contentedly the boys all take things. There is more life and fun in our tent every night than we ever had at home. Sam and Fred Norcott make more noise and sport in an evening than all Canton can furnish in a week. We love and respect all our officers but one, and he is the best officer we have, but a little too much regular army about him. Our captain is what the girls would call a “dear old fellow,” though he does have his own way every time. It seems to be the right way always so we think the world of him. They are just burying some poor fellow. We have had several deaths in the regiment lately. They do not play the prettiest dead marches here. I have been detached from the company for a week acting as sheriff of a court martial. Colonel Marsh, Colonel Logan, Colonel Tuttle of the Iowa 2d, and a couple of captains form the court. I have four men a day to guard the prisoners and two orderlies to send errands for me, so I play big injun strongly. The prisoner murdered a comrade while we were down at Norfolk. Smote him on the head with a club. He is from Company B of our regiment. That company, besides this case, had a man shot dead the other day by one of their own company. An accident. This morning they had a man stabbed, and day before yesterday they confined one of their men for trying to kill two others. For all this they are really a good company of men. We had a review Tuesday this week of 6 regiments, 2 batteries and 400 or 500 cavalry. Very fine. I suppose you saw an account of the Pekin company of our regiment killing four or five Rebels that made an attack on them while they were guarding a bridge. Ten of them stood their ground against a large party, and held the ground too. We buried two secesh and they carried off four. We lost none. The best fight yet was ten miles below here the other day between 26 of our men and 160 Rebels. You've seen it in the papers. Sam Nutt and John Wallace stood guard two nights before at the place where the first fight was. Oh heavens, I hope I can date my next from somewhere else.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 37-8

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: March 13, 1864

Ran very slow through the night, and are in the vicininy of Macon, Ga. Will reach our prison to-night. Received a pone of corn bread apiece weighing about two pounds, which is liberal on their part Two more days such riding as this would kill me The lice are fairly eating us up alive, having had no chance to rid ourselves of them since leaving Richmond. One of the guards struck Hendryx during the night. We were talking on the all important subject, and the guard hearing us chatting away to ourselves struck over into the croud where the noise came from and hit George in the back part of the head. He didn't speak for a minute or two and I was afraid it had killed him, which happily proved to the contrary. As soon as it came daylight he showed the brute where he had struck him, and took the occasion to dress him down a little, whereupon the rebel threatened that if he said another word to him he would blow his head off. A drizzling rain has set in.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 39-40

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: March 8, 1864

Were unloaded last night and given a chance to straighten our limbs. Stayed all night in the woods, side of the track, under a heavy guard. Don't know where we are, as guards are very reticent.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 39

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

On The Cars. — We were roused from our gentle slumbers during the night, counted off and marched to the cars, loaded into them, which had evidently just had some cattle as occupants. Started southward to some portion of Georgia, as a guard told us. Passed through Petersburg, and other towns which I could not learn the names of. Cars run very slow, and being crowded, we are very uncomfortable and hungry. Before leaving Richmond hard-tack was issued to us in good quantity for the Confederacy. Have not much chance to write. Bought some boiled sweet potatoes of the guard, which are boss. The country we pass through is a miserable one. Guards watch us close to see that none escape, and occasionally a Yank is shot, but not in our car. Seems as if we did not run over thirty or forty miles per day. stop for hours on side tracks, waiting for other trains to pass us.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 39

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: February 26, 1864

Rather cold, almost spring. Guards unusually strict. Hendryx was standing near the window, and I close by him, looking at the high, ten story tobacco building, when the guard fired at us. The ball just grazed Hendryx's head and lodged in the ceiling above; all we could do to prevent Hendryx throwing a brick at the guard.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 36