Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: July 16, 1864

Well, who ever supposed that it could be any hotter; but to-day is more so than yesterday, and yesterday more than the day before. My coverlid has been rained on so much and burned in the sun, first one and then the other, that it is getting the worse for wear. It was originally a very nice one, and home made. Sun goes right through it now, and reaches down for us. Just like a bake oven. The rabbit mules that draw in the rations look as if they didn't get much more to eat than we do. Driven with one rope line, and harness patched up with ropes, strings, &c. Fit representation of the Confederacy. Not much like U S Army teams. A joke on the rebel adjutant has happened. Some one broke into the shanty and tied the two or three sleeping there, and carried off all the goods. Tennessee Bill, (a fellow captured with me) had charge of the affair, and is in disgrace with the adjutant on account of it. Every one is glad of the robbery. Probably there was not ten dollars worth of things in there, but they asked outrageous prices for everything. Adjt. very mad, but no good. Is a small, sputtering sort of fellow.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 87

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

Battese brought me some onions, and if they ain't good then no matter; also a sweet potato. One half the men here would get well if they only had something in the vegetable line to eat, or acids. Scurvy is about the most loathsome disease, and when dropsy takes hold with the scurvy, it is terrible. I have both diseases but keep them in check, and it only grows worse slowly. My legs are swollen, but the cords are not contracted much, and I can still walk very well. Our mess all keep clean, in fact are obliged to or else turned adrift. We want none of the dirty sort in our mess. Sanders and Rowe enforce the rules, which is not much work, as all hands are composed of men who prefer to keep clean. I still do a little washing, but more particularly hair cutting, which is easier work. You should see one of my hair cuts. Nobby! Old prisoners have hair a foot long or more, and my business is to cut it off, which I do without regards to anything except to get it off. I should judge that there are one thousand rebel soldiers guarding us, and perhaps a few more, with the usual number of officers. A guard told me to-day that the yanks were “gittin licked,” and they didn't want us exchanged; just as soon we should die here as not; a yank asked him if he knew what exchange meant; said he knew what shootin' meant, and as he began to swing around his old shooting iron we retreated in among the crowd. heard that there were some new men belonging to my regiment in another part of the prison; have just returned from looking after them and am all tired out. Instead of belonging to the 9th Michigan Cavalry, they belong to the 9th Michigan Infantry. Had a good visit and quite cheered with their accounts of the war news. Some one stole Battese's wash board and he is mad; is looking for it — may bust up the business. Think Hub Dakin will give me a board to make another one. Sanders owns the jack-knife, of this mess, and he don't like to lend it either; borrow it to carve on roots for pipes, Actually take solid comfort “building castles in the air,” a thing I have never been addicted to before. Better than getting blue and worrying myself to death. After all, we may get out of this dod-rotted hole Always an end of some sort to such things.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 80

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: June 30, 1864

A new prisoner fainted away on his entrance to Andersonville and is now crazy, a raving maniac. That is how our condition affected him My pants are the worse for wear from repeated washings, my shirt sleeveless and feet stockingless; have a red cap without any front piece; shoes by some hocus-pocus are not mates, one considerable larger than the other. Wonder what they would think if I should suddenly appear on the streets in Jackson in this garb. Would be a circus; side show and all. But nights I have a grand old coverlid to keep off the wet. Raiders steal blankets and sell to the guards, which leaves all nearly destitute of that very necessary article. Often tell how I got my coverlid, to visitors. Have been peddling pea soup on the streets: “Ten cents in money or a dollar Confed for this rich soup! Who takes it?” And some wretch buys it. Anything in the way of food will sell, or water, if different from swamp water. Rebs making a pretense of fixing up sanitary privileges at the swamp, which amount to nothing. Strong talk of forming a police force to put down raiders and to enforce order. If successful it will prove of great benefit. Sanders, Rowe, Blakeman, Dakin and myself are among those who will take an active part, although the part I take cannot be very active. Half a dozen letters sent inside to prisoners, but no news in them that I can hear of. More hot aud sultry, with occasional rains. The crazy man says nothing but “prayer” will save us He has been sucking a bone now for about two weeks and pays more attention to that than to prayer.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 73-4

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

Another lead pencil wore down to less than an inch in length, and must skirmish around for another one New men bring in writing material and pencils. To-day saw a New York Herald of date June 11th, nothing in it about exchange, however. That is all the news that particularly interests us, although accounts of recent battles are favorable to the Union side. Our guards are composed of the lowest element of the South — poor white trash Very ignorant, much more so than the negro. Some of them act as if they never saw a gun before. The rebel adjutant does quite a business selling vegetables to those of the prisoners who have money, and has established a sutler stand not very far from our mess. Hub Dakin, an old acquaintance, is a sort of clerk, and gets enough to eat thereby. Hot! Hot! Raiders kill some one now every day. No restraint in the least. Men who were no doubt respectable at home, are now the worst villains in the world. One of them was sneaking about our quarters during the night, and Sanders knocked him about ten feet with a board. Some one of us must keep awake all the time, and on the watch, fearing to loose what little we have.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 71

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

Have now written two large books full; have another at hand. New prisoners who come here have diaries which they will sell for a piece of bread No news to day. Dying off as usual — more in numbers each day as the summer advances. Rebels say that they don't begin to have hot weather down here until about August. Well, it is plain to me that all will die. Old prisoners have stood it as long as they can, and are dropping off fast, while the new ones go anyhow. Some one stole my cap during the night. A dead neighbor furnished me with another, however. Fast as the men die they are stripped of their clothing so that those alive can be covered. Pretty hard, but the best we can do. Rebels are anxious to get hold of Yankee buttons. “Buttons with hens on,” they enquire for. An insult to the American Eagle — but they don't know any better.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 68-9

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: April 27, 1864

Well, I was out from under rebel guard for an hour or so any way. Hurt my side though, and caught a little cold. Am sore somewhat. Have given up the idea of escaping. Think if Hendryx had been alone he would have gotten away. Is tougher than I am. A man caught stealing from one of his comrades and stabbed with a knife and killed. To show how little such things are noticed here I will give the particulars as near as I could get them. There were five or six men stopping together in a sort of shanty. Two of them were speculators, and had some money, corn bread, &c., and would not divide with their comrades, who belonged to their own company and regiment. Some time in the night one of them got up and was stealing bread from a haversack belonging to his more prosperous neighbor, and during the operation woke up the owner, who seized a knife and stabbed the poor fellow dead The one who did the murder spoke out and said: “Harry, I believe Bill is dead; he was just stealing from me and I run my knife into him.” “Good enough for him,” says Harry. The two men then got up and straightened out “Bill,” and then both lay down and went to sleep. An occupant of the hut told me these particulars and they are true. This morning poor Bill lay in the hut until eight or nine o'clock, and was then carried outside. The man who did the killing made no secret of it, but told it to all who wanted to know the particulars, who were only a few, as the occurrence was not an unusual one.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 53

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

Jack Shannon, from Ann Arbor, died this morning. The raiders are the stronger party now, and do as they please; and we are in nearly as much danger now from our own men as from the rebels Capt. Moseby, of my own hundred, figures conspicuously among the robberies, and is a terrible villain. During the night some one stole my jacket. Have traded off all superfluous clothes, and with the loss of jacket have only pants, shirt, shoes, (no stockings,) and hat; yet I am well dressed in comparison with some others, many have nothing but an old pair of pants which reach, perhaps, to the knees, and perhaps not. Hendryx has two shirts, and should be mobbed. I do quite a business trading rations, making soup for the sick ones, taking in payment their raw food which they cannot eat get many a little snack by so doing

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 51

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

Butler reported as commissioner on exchange and the rebels declare that they would never recognize him and would rather that we should all die here than negotiate with the Beast Congress still in session over in the city and we watch the papers eagerly for something relative to us. They Holy Sabbath day and the church bells ringing for morning service. Don't think I shall attend this morning; it is such a long walk and then I look so bad; have nothing fit to wear. A man stabbed a few minutes ago by his tent mate, killing him instantly. They had all along been the best friends until a dispute arose, and one of them drew a knife and killed his comrade. Strong talk of lynching the murderer. Have not heard the particulars. Corp. McCartin is missing from the island and am confident from what I have seen that he has escaped and by the help of Lieut. Bossieux. No endeavors are being made to look him up, still he offers a reward for his apprehension. They are both members of the secret craft.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 30-1