Diary of Corporal David L. Day: January 22, 1862

HUNTING A CHANNEL.

The light-draught boats are engaged in finding and making a channel across the bar, or swash as it is called, of sufficient depth of water to enable the large steamers to cross into the sound. One great trouble about that is if they find one today it will all be filled up tomorrow. We shall have to wait till calmer weather before we can cross.

RATIONS.

A schooner came alongside today and left us rations of steamed pork, hardtack and condensed sea water. This was a very timely arrival as we have been very short of water for two or three days and pretty much everything else. Rattlesnake pork will taste pretty good again after a few days’ fast. Condensed sea water is rather a disagreeable beverage, but still is a little ahead of no water at all. I think, however, it might be made palatable by adding about nine parts whiskey to one of water. This water and pork is all manufactured here on the spot. They have a sort of rendering establishment where they make it, but I cannot believe that the pork would take a premium in any fair in the country unless it was for meanness.

A RIPPLE OF EXCITEMENT.

Another rebel steamer came down the sound to-day to take a look at us and see how we are getting along. One of our boats gave chase and I reckon got a shot at her, as we heard reports of artillery. Those fellows are just smart enough to keep out of our way, I hope they will always be so, I have no great desire to shoot the cusses, but still if they get in my way, and I think they ought to be shot. I suppose I shall do it.

The theatre up in the saloon is a great success. They have just got out a new play, a kind of burlesque, entitled the Rasper Brothers, and large posters are sent over the boat announcing the unprecedented success of the Rasper Brothers: playing nightly to crowded houses and hundreds turned away; none should fail of witnessing this highly moral drama.

OLD DAN.

Old Dan is having a terrible fit of the blues. He cannot understand why we were sent to this God-forsaken place. I tell him that God has not forsaken it but has sent us here to save it; and Dan, with a big oath, swore that it was not worth saving. I said to him: “You are seeing it at its worst. This is a famous watering-place; a great summer resort.” He thinks it might do first-rate for a watering place; but cannot conceive of anyone who would want to resort here. He thinks the greatest mistake he has made in this whole business was in not running away as I advised him to, while at Annapolis.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 25-6

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: January 16, 1862

MORE BOATS ASHORE AND SINKING.

Three more boats ashore and leaking, one of them is the U. S. mail-boat Suwanee, from Fortress Monroe for Hilton Head. She ran in here this morning to leave mails and dispatches for this fleet, intending to sail this afternoon, but owing to the high winds and heavy sea, she parted her cable and drifted on an anchor fluke, breaking a hole in her bottom and sunk. She lies on the sand, with her deck about four feet out of water. It is said she can be pumped out and raised when it calms, of which time, however, there seems to be a very dim prospect. We have just heard from the old steamer Pocahontas. She went ashore below Hatteras light. She had our team horses aboard, and nearly all of them were lost. The men who were aboard of her got ashore and are now coming down the island. The schooner on which the signal corps were aboard has not been seen or heard from and there is much anxiety for her safety. We have kept alive on hardtack thus far, but on account of the storm no tug has been able to get alongside with rations, and we going it with half a ration of hardtack and coffee once a day. Five cents apiece are freely offered for hardtack, with no takers.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 22-3

Diary of Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Saturday, May 21, 1864

Rations of coffee, sugar, hard bread, etc., filled our camp with joy last night. It now looks as if Grant had failed to crush Lee merely on account of rain and mud. We seem to have had the best of the fighting and to have taken the most prisoners. I suspect we have gained the most guns and lost the most killed and wounded. General Crook thinks Grant will force the fighting until some definite result is obtained.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 464

Diary of 5th Sergeant Osborn H. Oldroyd: May 9, 1863

Orders this morning to draw two days' rations, pack up and be ready to move at a moment's warning. We drew hard-tack, coffee, bacon, salt and sugar, and stored them in our haversacks. Some take great care so to pack the hard-tack that it will not dig into the side while marching, for if a corner sticks out too much anywhere, it is only too apt to leave its mark on the soldier. Bacon, too, must be so placed as not to grease the blouse or pants. I see many a bacon badge about me—generally in the region of the left hip. In filling canteens, if the covers get wet the moisture soaks through and scalds the skin. The tin cup or coffee-can is generally tied to the canteen or else to the blanket or haversack, and it rattles along the road, reminding one of the sound of the old cow coming home. All trifling troubles like these on the march may be easily forestalled by a little care, but care is something a soldier is not apt to take, and he too often packs his “grub” as hurriedly as he “bolts” it. We were soon ready to move, and filled our canteens with the best water we have had for months. We did not actually get our marching order, however, until near three o'clock P. M., so that being anxious to take fresh water with us, we had to empty and refill canteens several times. As we waited for the order, a good view was afforded us of the passing troops, and the bristling lines really looked as if there was war ahead.

O, what a grand army this is, and what a sight to fire the heart of a spectator with a speck of patriotism in his bosom. I shall never forget the scene of to-day, while looking back upon a mile of solid columns, marching with their old tattered flags streaming in the summer breeze, and hearkening to the firm tramp of their broad brogans keeping step to the pealing fife and drum, or the regimental bands discoursing “Yankee Doodle” or “The Girl I Left Behind Me.” I say it was a grand spectacle—but how different the scene when we meet the foe advancing to the strains of “Dixie” and “The Bonny Blue Flag.” True, I have no fears for the result of such a meeting, for we are marching full of the prestige of victory, while our foes have had little but defeat for the last two years. There is an inspiration in the memory of victory. Marching through this hostile country with large odds against us, we have crossed the great river and wil1 cut our way through to Vicksburg, let what dangers may confront us. To turn back we should be overwhelmed with hos[t]s exulting on their own native soil. These people can and will fight desperately, but they cannot put a barrier in our way that we cannot pass. Camped a little after dark.

SOURCE: Osborn Hamiline Oldroyd, A Soldier's Story of the Siege of Vicksburg, p. 11-12

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: December 23, 1864

It is not yet daylight in the morning, and are anxiously awaiting the hour to arrive when we may go out to the road. Slept hardly any during the night. More or less fighting all night, and could hear an army go by toward Savannah, also some shouting directly opposite us. Between the hours of about twelve and three all was quiet, and then again more travel. We conjecture that the rebel army has retreated or been driven back, and that the Yankees are now passing along following them up. Shall go out about nine o'clock. Later. — Are eating breakfast before starting out to liberty and safety. Must be very careful now and make no mistake. If we run into a rebel squad now, might get shot. We are nervous, and so anxious can hardly eat. Will pick up what we really need and start. Perhaps good bye, little house on the banks of the Ogechee, we shall always remember just how you look, and what a happy time we have had on this little island. Dave says: “Pick up your blanket and that skillet, and come along.” Night.—Safe and sound among our own United States Army troops, after an imprisonment of nearly fourteen months. Will not attempt to describe my feelings now. Could not do it. Staying with the 80th Ohio Infantry, and are pretty well tired out from our exertions of the day. At nine o'clock we started out toward the main road. When near it Eli and I stopped, and Dave went ahead to see who was passing. We waited probably fifteen minutes, and then heard Dave yell out: “Come on boys, all right! Hurry up!” Eli and I had a stream to cross on a log. The stream was some fifteen feet wide, and the log about two feet through. I tried to walk that log and fell in my excitement. Verily believe if the water had been a foot deeper I would have drowned. Was up to my arms, and I was so excited that I liked never to have got out. Lost the axe, which Dave had handed to me, and the old stand-by coverlid which had saved my life time and again floated off down the stream, and I went off without securing it—the more shame to me for it. Dave ran out of the woods swinging his arms and yelling like mad, and pretty soon Eli and myself appeared, whooping and yelling. The 80th Ohio was just going by, or a portion of it, however, and when they saw first one and then another and then the third coming toward them in rebel dress, with clubs which they mistook for guns, they wheeled into line, thinking, perhaps, that a whole regiment would appear next. Dave finally explained by signs, and we approached and satisfied them of our genuineness. Said we were hard looking soldiers, but when we came to tell them where we had been and all the particulars, they did not wonder. Went right along with them, and at noon had plenty to eat. Are the guests of Co. I, 80th Ohio. At three the 80th had a skirmish, we staying back a mile with some wagons, and this afternoon rode in a wagon. Only came about three or four miles to-day, and are near Kimball's, whom we shall call and see the first opportunity. The soldiers all look well and feel well, and say the whole confederacy is about cleaned out. Rebels fall back without much fighting. Said there was not enough to call it a fight at the bridge. Where we thought it a battle, they thought it nothing worth speaking of. Believe ten or so were killed, and some wounded. Hear that some Michigan cavalry is with Kilpatrick off on another road, but they do not know whether it is the 9th Mich. Cav., or not. Say they see the cavalry every day nearly, and I must keep watch for my regiment. Soldiers forage on the plantations, and have the best of food; chickens, ducks, sweet potatoes, etc. The supply wagons carry nothing but hard-tack, coffee, sugar and such things. Tell you, coffee is a luxury, and makes one feel almost drunk. Officers come to interview us every five minutes, and we have talked ourselves most to death to-day. They say we probably will not be called upon to do any fighting during this war, as the thing is about settled. They have heard of Andersonville, and from the accounts of the place did not suppose that any lived at all. New York papers had pictures in, of the scenes there, and if such was the case it seems funny that measures were not taken to get us away from there. Many rebels are captured now, and we look at them from a different stand point than a short time since.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 154-6

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 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: November 20, 1864

None as yet gone to-day and it is already most night. My turn would not come until to-morrow, and if none go at all today I will probably not get away until about day after to-morrow. Shan't flank out, but await my turn and go where fate decrees. Had a falling out with my companion Smith, and am again alone walking about the prison with my coverlid on my shoulders. Am determined that this covering protects none but thoroughly good and square fellows. Later — Going to be a decidedly cold night, and have “made up” with two fellows to sleep together. The going away is the all absorbing topic of conversation. Received for rations this day a very good allowance of hard tack and bacon. This is the first hard-tack received since the trip to Andersonville, and is quite a luxury. It is so hard that I have to tack around and soak mine up before I am able to eat it. There is a joke to this. Will again go to bed as I have done the last week, thinking every night would be the last at Camp Lawton.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 119

Captain William Thompson Lusk to Elizabeth Adams Lusk, December 7, 1862

Camp Near Falmouth, Va.

December 7th, 1862.

My dear Mother:

We are still lying quietly in camp — no signs of a move yet, but general suffering for want of clothes, shoes in especial. The miserable article furnished by the Government to protect the feet of our soldiers seldom lasts more than three or four weeks, so it is easy to understand the constant cry of “no shoes” which is so often pleaded for the dilatoriness of the Army. I am, happily, well provided now, and can assure those of my friends that contributed to the box Capt. brought me, that the box contained a world of comfort for which I heartily thank them. I think I have acknowledged the safe receipt of the box and its contents already, but a letter from Lilly says not. I will write Uncle Phelps that it came all right. I have had a rare treat to-day. Indeed I feel as though I had devoured a Thanksgiving Turkey. At least I have the satisfied feeling of one that has dined well. I did not dine on Peacock's brains either, but — I write it gratefully — I dined on a dish of potatoes. They were cut thin, fried crisp, and tasted royally. You will understand my innocent enthusiasm, when I say that for nearly six weeks previous, I had not tasted a vegetable of any kind. There was nothing but fresh beef and hard crackers to be had all that time, varied sometimes by beef without any crackers, and then again by crackers without any beef. And here were fried potatoes! No stingy heap, but a splendid pile! There was more than a “right smart” of potatoes as the people would say about here. Excuse me, if warming with my theme I grow diffuse. The Chaplain and I mess together. The Chaplain said grace, and then we both commenced the attack. There were no words spoken. We both silently applied ourselves to the pleasant task of destruction. By-and-by there was only one piece left. We divided it. Then sighing, we turned to the fire, and lighted our pipes, smoking thoughtfully. At length I broke the silence. “Chaplain,” said I. “What?” says Chaplain. “Chaplain, they needed SALT!” I said energetically. Chap puffed out a stream of smoke approvingly, and then we both relapsed again into silence.

I see a good deal of Capt. Stevens now, who says were his father only living I would have little difficulty in getting pushed ahead. He, poor fellow, feels himself very much neglected after the very splendid service he has rendered. It is exceedingly consoling, in reading the late lists of promotions made by the War Department, to see how very large a proportion has fallen to the share of young officers whose time has been spent at Fortress Monroe, Baltimore, or anywhere where there has been no fighting done. Perhaps our time may come one of these days, but I trust I may have better luck in the medical profession than at soldiering. However I suppose when I get old, it will be a proud memory to have fought honorably at Antietam and South Mountain, in any capacity. I feel the matter more now, for I have been in the service so long, and so long in the same place, that I am fairly ashamed to visit old friends, all of whom hold comparatively high rank. I do not see why before the first of January though, I should not be the Lt.-Col. of the 79th Regiment. In trying to be Major, I attempted to be frank and honorable, and lost. Now I shall try to act honorably, but mean to try and win.

I feel sad enough about Hannah. You know what inseparable playmates we were when children. God help her safely, whatsoever his will may be.

Love and kisses for all but gentlemen friends.

Affec'y.,

William.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 240-2

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 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

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Luman Harris Tenney: December 11, 1863

Last night command marched across the river after caring for the wounded — building campfires. I rode on into camp and read home letters brought by Maj. Nettleton. He called this morning and took breakfast with us. Went down and got hard bread and a little sugar and coffee. Saw Corp. C. S., a little active fellow and knows his business. Do not feel well today — hard cold and bad boil. Read the news and Cincinnati Commercial of Dec. 1st. Nettleton called in evening. Resolutions passed eulogizing Burnside and regretting his loss.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 100-1

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Luman Harris Tenney: December 8, 1863

Awoke considerably rested. Surprising how a tired man can sleep. Drew one day's ration of meal and two of H. Bread. Moved around Clinch Mountain to Blains Cross Roads. Boys killed a flock of sheep. Passed a division of the 9th Army Corps in camp. Stopped with boys at a house near road leading to Walker's Gap. Got coffee and then slept in good bed — secesh.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 100

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Luman Harris Tenney: December 9, 1863

Up early and breakfasted on mush. Supper last night the same. Infantry soon commenced passing. Left all boys but Thede and went on. Passed through Rutledge. Command moved on to Bean Station and camped — some skirmishing. Issued Hard Bread and beef! Boys came up. Bunked down by the fire and slept soundly. Cold night. Boys go for secesh badly on this trip.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 100

Captain Charles Wright Wills: November 7, 1862

Camp at Lagrange, West Tennessee, November 7, 1862.

To say that we have been crowded, jammed, put through, hustled, skited, etc., don't half express the divil-of-a-hurry headquarters has shown and is showing us. We left Peoria one week ago last night, crossed the bridge at precisely 6 o'clock p. m. Since that we have traveled one day and one night on the cars, a day resting, beside stacked arms waiting orders, the first quarter of a night pitching tents, then received orders to march with five days' rations at daylight, and the rest of the night spent in preparation therefor, then two days' marching through the awfullest dust you ever saw, so thick we almost had to kick it out of the way to get our foot to the ground, then a day of rest and fat living off secesh pork, etc., and the seventh day a march of 20 miles by our whole brigade, after a little party of Rebel cavalry that couldn't more than eat a hog a day. Pretty good work for a green regiment, wasn't it? It seems real natural to be down in Secessia, the country where a 300-pound porker don't cost any more than a chicken that costs nothing. But some things we have to buy for our mess, and to show you what they cost, I will mention the items of flour and salt. The former is worth 50 cents per pound, and the latter $1 a pound. We wouldn't have to buy them of citizens, but scarcity of transportation obliged our A. C. S. to leave everything but traveling rations, viz.; Bacon, sugar, coffee and crackers. There is a man making boots in town at $45 a pair, and he can't get leather to fill his orders. Fine country. Between here and Bolivar, some 30 miles, I think there is not a house left or rail left unburned, and 'twas all done on our trip down. The fires were all lit by troops that marched ahead of us, and although the smoke and heat were disagreeable enough, yet I think the 103d generally approved of the proceedings. Yet I was glad enough when the colonel, by the general's orders, called us to answer the question, “Do you know that any of your men burned rails, houses, or destroyed any property on the march from Bolivar?” that the 103d had not participated. Major General McPherson, commanding this corps, disapproves of such conduct and will severely punish offenders if caught, which latter item is not at all probable. Tis generally understood that the Union Tennessee Cavalry did the work. The 7th Illinois is here with us and all are well that you know.

We have good tents and are otherwise better prepared for soldiering than I ever was before.

We have between 30,000 and 40,000, I suppose, between here and a point eight miles east. Price is supposed to be in the neighborhood of Holly Springs, 30 miles southwest, with 40,000 to 60,000. They say we are waiting for the Memphis troops to join us before we go down and scoop him. We have the half of the old army of the Mississippi here, and part of the army of West Tennessee, nearly all experienced troops.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 129-30

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

Up at 4 and an early breakfast in anticipation of marching. Infantry came in a little before noon. Saw Wattle. Got dinner and then started. Bob, Col. A. and I went. Covil and Dod stayed. Marched by way of “Fishing Creek.” Very high banks. Country quite mountainous. Fun to see the infantry fording. Encamped at 16 miles. Got a ham and had tea and crackers. Rained in the night.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 67

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 Sergeant Major Luman Harris Tenney, Saturday, December 20, 1862

Reached the river about noon. After some delay were ferried over and marched to the cars. Then waited in a cold wind and occasional sleet for two hours, then marched through the town east to barracks. Got some coffee and hard bread. In the evening had a good fire. Most of the boys up town. Capt. invited me to Quincy House but preferred to stay in camp. Quincy a very neat town — city.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 50

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: December 25, 1863

— and Christmas. — One year ago to-day first went into camp at Coldwater, little dreaming what changes a year would bring around, but there are exchange rumors afloat and hope to see white folks again before many months. All ordered out to be squadded over again, which was quite a disappointment to our mess as we were making preparations for a grand dinner, gotten up by outside hands, Mustard, Myers, Hendryx and myself. However, we had our good things for supper instead of dinner, and it was a big thing, consisting of corn bread and butter, oysters, coffee, beef, crackers, cheese, &c.; all we could possibly eat or do away with, and costing the snug little sum of $200 Confederate money, or $20 in greenbacks. Lay awake long before daylight listening to the bells. As they rang out Christmas good morning I imagined they were in Jackson, Michigan, my old home, and from the spires of the old Presbyterian and Episcopal churches. Little do they think as they are saying their Merry Christmases and enjoying themselves so much, of the hunger and starving here. But there are better days coming.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 21

Diary of Luman Harris Tenney: Thursday, October 23, 1862

Bill and I did some washing. Johnson, Co. E, invited us to dinner — pork and crackers. Made inquiries about Sheldon. Found he had not sold his pony — never found it. Claimed he sold it to get “poker money.” Said he went immediately to playing poker with Co. F after leaving here. They said it was the middle of the P. M. N. asked him in and saw him. Would not admit it. Read St. Louis Republican of the 20th. Surprised to see Ohio so Democratic. Hope it won't influence the president.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 38-9