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

Got up bright and early. Never slept better. Getting rested up. We talk continually. Both Bucks are great talkers, especially David. Cooked and ate our breakfast, and would you believe it the ham is all gone. incredible, the amount of food we eat. Wonder it don't make us all sick. Sweet potatoes getting low. Dave fixing up his dead fall for hogs. Has rolled some heavy logs together forty rods away from our house, and fixed up a figure four spring trap, with the logs for weight to hold down the animal which may be enticed into it. Has scattered corn in and around the trap, and we wait for developments. Hogs are very shy of us and surroundings. Are apparently fat and in good order. Plenty of roots and shack which they eat, and thrive thereon. Buzzards are very curious in regard to us. They light on the limbs in the trees, and if their support is a dead limb it breaks and makes a great noise in the still woods. Two or three hundred all together make a terrible racket, and scare us sometimes. The weather is very fine, and this must be a healthy climate. Dave is going out to-day to look around. As I have said before, he is a scout and understands spying around, and won't get caught. If we had a fish hook and line or a net of some sort could catch fish to eat. That would be a grand sport as we can see nice large fish in the water. The main road is away about one and a half miles we think by the sound of the teams which occasionally rumble along. Often hear shouting on the road as if cattie were being driven along toward Savannah. Once in a while we hear guns fired off, but it is no doubt hogs being killed. We also hear folks going up and down the river, but cannot see them. After dark we have no fire as that would expose us, it is so much plainer to be seen in the night. The river is wide; should think a third of a mile, as we can view it from away up the stream. The cane that grows in the river is the same as we have for fish poles at the North, and are shipped from the South. Have added some repairs to the house and it is now water tight, we think. Made a bed of soft boughs, and with our three blankets have a good sleeping place. Dave got a tall cane and fastened up on the house, and for a flag fastened on a piece or black cloth—the best we could do. That means no quarter; and it is just about what we mean, too. Don't believe we would be taken very easy now. I am getting fat every day, yet lame, and have come to the conclusion that it will be a long time before I get over it. The cords have contracted so in my right leg that they don't seem to stretch out again to their original length. That scurvy business came very near killing me. Later. — I also went out of our hiding place, and saw away out in a field what I took to be a mound where sweet potatoes were buried. Came back and got a pair of drawers, tied the bottom of the legs together, and sallied forth. The mound of potatoes was a good way back from the house, although in plain sight. I crawled up, and began digging into it with a piece of canteen. Very soon had a hole in, and found some of the nicest potatoes that you can imagine, of the red variety, which I believe are the genuine Southern yam. Filled the drawers cram full, filled my pockets and got all I could possibly carry, then closed up the hole and worked my way back to camp. Eli was alone, Dave not having returned from his scouting trip. Had a war dance around those potatoes. Believe there is a bushel of them, and like to have killed myself getting them here. After I got into the woods and out of the field, straightened up and got the drawers on my shoulders and picked the way to head-quarters. We don't any of us call any such thing as that stealing. It's one of the necessities of our lives that we should have food, and if we have not got it, must do the best we can. Now if we can catch a porker will be fixed all right for some days to come. Think it is about the time of year for butchering. We don't expect to be here more than two or three days at fartherest, although I shall hate to leave this beautiful spot, our nice house and all. Listen all the time for the expected battle at the bridge, and at any unusual sound of commotion in that direction we are all excitement. Later.—Dave has returned. He went to the main road and saw a negro. Was lucky enough to get a Savannah paper three days old in which there was nothing we did not know in regard to Sherman's coming. The negro said yankee scouts had been seen just across the river near the bridge, and the main army is expected every day. The rebels will fall back across the river and contest the crossing. Fortifications are built all along clear to Savannah, and it may be reasonably expected that some hard fighting will take place. Savannah is the pride of the South and they will not easily give it up. Dave did not tell the negro that he was a yankee, but represented himself as a conscript hiding in the woods to keep from fighting in the rebel army. Was glad to see supply of potatoes and says I will do. Has freshly baited his trap for hogs and thinks before night we will have fresh pork to go with the potatoes. Later. — We went around a drove of hogs and gradually and carefully worked them up to the trap. Pretty soon they began to pick up the corn and one of them went under the figure four, sprung it and down came the logs and such a squealing and scrambling of those not caught. The axe had been left near the trap standing up against a tree, and Dave ran up and grabbed it and struck the animal on the head and cut his throat. How we did laugh and dance around that defunct porker. Exciting sport this trapping for fresh pork. In half an hour Dave and Eli had the pig skinned and dressed. Is not a large one probably weighs ninety pounds or so, and is fat and nice. Have sliced up enough for about a dozen men and are now cooking it on sticks held up before the fire. Also frying some in a skillet which we are the possessor of. When the hogs run wild and eat acorns, roots and the like, the meat is tough and curly but is sweet and good. We fry out the grease and then slice up the potatoes and cook in it. Thanks to Mr. Kimball we have plenty of salt to season our meat with. The buzzards are after their share which will be small. And now it is most night again and the “Astor House” larder is full. Seems too bad to go to bed with anything to eat on hand, but must. That is the feeling with men who have been starved so long, cannot rest in peace with food laying around. My two comrades are not so bad about that as I am, having been well fed for a longer period. Have sat up three or four hours after dark, talking over what we will do when we get home, and will now turn in for a sound sleep. It's a clear moonlight night, and we can hear very plain a long distance. Can also see the light shining from camp fires in many directions, or what we take to be such.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 149-52

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: December 20, 1864

Well, we are just well fixed and happy. After partaking of a royal repast last night, served in an out-building near the main building of the Kimball home, we were directed to this place which is on the banks of the Big Ogechee river, in a most delightful spot. While we were at Kimball's he had negro sentinels stationed at different points on the plantation to announce the coming of any rebel soldiers or citizens that might see fit to come near. He gave us an axe, a quart of salt, a ham too big to carry conveniently, and all the sweet potatoes we could drag along; also a butcher knife. Went with us a mile as guide and then told us so we found the place pointed out. Also gave us some shelled corn to bait hogs and told Dave how to make a deadfall to catch them. We left the main road going directly West until we came to a fence, then turned to the left and followed the line of the fence, and when we had got to the end of it kept straight ahead going through a swampy low section. After a while came to higher and dry land and to the banks of the river. Is a sort of an island, and as I said before, a very pretty and pleasant spot. Out in the river grows tall canebrake which effectually hides us from any one going either up or down the river. Tall pines are here in abundance and nice grass plats, with as handsome palm clusters as ever I saw. Are going to build us a house to keep off the cold and rain. Have matches and a rousing fire cooked our breakfast of nice ham and sweet potatoes. We also roasted some corn and had corn coffee. Any quantity of hogs running around and Dave is already thinking of a trap to catch them. It will be necessary for we are making that ham look sick. Eat so much breakfast that we can hardly walk and don't know but will commit suicide by eating. Buzzards fly around attracted by the cooking. Are as large and look like turkeys. Our government should give to Mr. Kimball a fortune for his patriotism and sacrifices to the Union cause. About eight miles above is a long bridge across the river and there it is thought it big fight will take place when Sherman attempts to cross, and so we will know when they approach, as we could hear a battle that distance. Night.—We have built the cosyest and nicest little house to lay in. Cut poles with the axe and made a frame, and then covered the top with palm leaves just like shingles on a house at the North, then fixed three sides the same way, each leaf overlapping the other, and the fourth side open to a fire and the river. The water is cold and clear and nice to drink; just like spring water. Have eaten the ham half up; ditto potatoes. The increased prosperity makes me feel well bodily, and mentally am more so. It is still the “Astor House Mess.” We all cook, and we all eat. Dave prays to-night as he does every night and morning, and I ain't sure but all through the day. Is a thorough Christian if ever there was one. I also wrote a letter for Mr. Kimball to the commanding Union officer who may first approach these parts. In it I told how he had befriended us and others. We heard boats going by on the river to-day. At such times all we do is to keep still, as no one can see us. Rebels are too busy to look for us or any one else. All they can do now to take care of themselves. Eli is making up our bed, getting ready to turn in. I have just brought a tin pail of nice water and we all drink. Take off our shoes for the first time in some days. A beautiful night — clear and cold. And thus ends another day, and we are in safety.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 148-9

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

Jocko's hut was not across the river as I supposed and wrote yesterday, but on the same side we were on. At about ten o'clock last night we went to his abiding place as directed and knocked. After a long time an old black head was stuck out of the window with a nightcap on. The owner of the head didn't know Jocko or anything about him; was short and crusty; said: “Go way from Dar” Kept talking to him and he scolding at being disturbed. Said he had rheumatics and couldn't get out to let us in. After a long time opened the door and we set down on the door step. Told him we were yankees and wanted help. Was the funniest darky we have met yet. Would give something for his picture as he was framed in his window in the moonlight talking to us, with the picturesque surroundings, and us yankees trying to win him over to aid us. Finally owned up that he was Jocko, but said he couldn't row us across the river. He was lame and could not walk, had no boat, and if he had the river was so swift he couldn't get us across, and if it wasn't swift, the rebels would catch him at it and hang him. Talked a long time and with much teasing. By degrees his scruples gave way, one at a time. Didn't know but he might row us across if he only had a boat, and finally didn't know but he could find a boat To get thus far into his good graces took at least three hours. Went looking around and found an old scow, fixed up some old cars, and we got in; before doing so however, he had warmed up enough to give us some boiled sweet potatoes and cold baked fish. Rowed us way down the river and landed us on the noted Miller plantation and a mile in rear of the negro houses. Jocko, after we forced our acquaintance on him with all kind of argument, proved to be a smart able bodied old negro, but awful afraid of being caught helping runaways. Would give something for his picture as he appeared to us looking out of his cabin window. Just an old fashioned, genuine negro, and so black that charcoal would make a white mark on him. Took us probably three miles from his hut, two miles of water and one of land, and then started back home after shaking us a dozen times by the hand, and “God blessing us.” Said “Ole Massa Miller's niggers all Union niggers,” and to go up to the huts in broad day light and they would help us. No whites at home on the plantation. We arrived where Jocko left us an hour or so before daylight, and lay down to sleep until light. I woke up after a while feeling wet, and found the tide had risen and we were surrounded with water; woke up the boys and scrambled out of that in a hurry, going through two feet of water in some places. The spot where we had laid down was a higher piece of ground than that adjoining. Got on to dry land and proceeded to get dry. At about ten o'clock Dave went up to the negro huts and made himself known, which was hard work. The negroes are all afraid that we are rebels and trying to get them into a scrape, but after we once get them thoroughly satisfied that we are genuine Yanks they are all right, and will do anything for us. The negroes have shown us the big house, there being no whites around, they having left to escape the coming Yankee army. We went up into the cupola and looked way off on the ocean, and saw our own noble gunboats. What would we give to be aboard of them? Their close proximity makes us discuss the feasibility of going down the river and out to them, but the negroes say there are chain boats across the river farther down, and picketed. Still it makes us anxious, our being so near, and we have decided to go down the river to night in a boat and see if we can't reach them It is now the middle of the afternoon and we lay off from the huts eighty rods, and the negroes are about to bring us some dinner. During the night we traveled over oyster beds by the acre, artificial ones, and they cut our feet. Negroes say there are two other runaways hid a mile off and they are going to bring them to our abiding place. Later, — Negroes have just fed us with corn bread and a kind of fish about the size of sardines, boiled by the kettle full, and they are nice. Fully as good as sardines. Think I know now where nearly all the imported sardines come from. Negroes catch them by the thousand, in nets, put them in kettles, and cook them a few minutes, when they are ready to eat. Scoop them out of the creeks The two other runaways are here with us. They are out of the 3d Ohio Cavalry. Have been out in the woods for two weeks. Escaped from Blackshear and traveled this far. I used to know one of them in Savannah. We do not take to them at all, as they are not of our kind. Shall separate to night, they going their way and we going ours. Have secured a dug-out boat to go down the Ogechee River with to-night. The negroes tell us of a Mr. Kimball, a white man, living up the country fifteen miles, who is a Union man and helps runaways, or any one of Union proclivities. He lays up the river, and our gunboats lay down the river. Both have wonderful charms for us, and shall decide before night which route to take. Are on rice plantation, and a valuable one. Before the “wall” there were over fifteen hundred negroes on this place. Cotton is also part of the production. Have decided to go down the river and try to reach our gunboats It's two very hazardous undertaking, and I have my doubts as to its successful termination.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 141-3

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 25, 1864

This morning got up cold and stiff; not enough covering. Pushed off in the direction pointed out by the darkey of yesterday. Have come in the vicinity of negro shanties and laying in wait for some good benevolent colored brother. Most too many dogs yelping around to suit a runaway Yankee. Little nigs and the canines run together. If I can only attract their attention without scaring them to death, shall be all right. However, there is plenty of time, and won't rush things. Time is not valuable with me. Will go sure and careful. Don't appear to be any men folks around; more or less women of all shades of color. This is evidently a large plantation; has thirty or forty negro huts in three or four rows. They are all neat and clean to outward appearances. In the far distance and toward what I take to be the main road is the master's residence. Can just see a part of it. Has a cupola on top and is an ancient structure. Evidently a nice plantation. Lots of cactus grows wild all over, and is bad to tramp through. There is also worlds of palm leaves, such as five cent fans are made of. Hold on there, two or three negro men are coming from the direction of the big house to the huts. Don't look very inviting to trust your welfare with. Will still wait, McCawber like, for something to turn up. If they only knew the designs I have on them, they would turn pale. Shall be ravenous by night and go for them. I am near a spring of water, and lay down flat and drink. The “Astor House Mess” is moving around for a change; hope I won't make a mess of it. Lot of goats looking at me now, wondering, I suppose, what it is. Wonder if they butt? Shoo! going to rain, and if so I must sleep in one of those shanties. Negroes all washing up and getting ready to eat, with doors open No, thank you; dined yesterday. Am reminded of the song: “What shall we do, when the war breaks the country up, and scatters us poor darkys all around.” This getting away business is about the best investment I ever made. Just the friendliest fellow ever was. More than like a colored man, and will stick closer than a brother if they will only let me. Laugh when I think of the old darky of yesterday's experience, who liked me first rate only wanted me to go away. Have an eye on an isolated hut that looks friendly. shall approach it at dark. People at the hut are a woman and two or three children, and a jolly looking and acting negro man. Being obliged to lay low in the shade feel the cold, as it is rather damp and moist. Later.—Am in the hut and have eaten a good supper. shall sleep here to-night. The negro man goes early in the morning, together with all the male darky population, to work on fortifications at Fort McAllister. Says the whole country is wild at the news of approaching Yankee army. Negro man named “Sam” and woman “Sandy.” Two or three negroes living here in these huts are not trustworthy, and I must keep very quiet and not be seen. Children perfectly awe struck at the sight of a Yankee. Negroes very kind but afraid. Criminal to assist me. Am five miles from Doctortown. Plenty of "gubers" and yams. Tell them all about my imprisonment. Regard the Yankees as their friends. Half a dozen neighbors come in by invitation, shake hands with me, scrape the floor with their feet, and rejoice most to death at the good times coming. “Bress de Lord,” has been repeated hundreds of times in the two or three hours I have been here. Surely I have fallen among friends. All the visitors donate of their eatables, and although enough is before me to feed a dozen men, I give it a tussle. Thus ends the second day of my freedom, and it is glorious

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 123-4

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: November 24, 1864

Another beautiful morning, a repetition of yesterday, opens up to me. It is particularly necessary that I procure sustenance wherewith life is prolonged, and will change my head-quarters to a little nearer civilization. Can hear some one chopping not a mile away. Here goes. Later. — Found an old negro fixing up a dilapidated post and rail fence. Approached him and enquired the time of day. (My own watch having run down.) He didn't happen to have his gold watch with him, but reckoned it was nigh time for the horn. Seemed scared at the apparition that appeared to him, and no wonder. Forgave him on the spot. Thought it policy to tell him all about who and what I was, and did so. Was very timid and afraid, but finally said he would divide his dinner as soon as it should be sent to him, and for an hour I lay off a distance of twenty rods or so, waiting for that dinner. It finally came, brought by the same boy I saw go along yesterday. Boy sat down the pail and the old darkey told him to scamper off home — which he did Then we had dinner of rice, cold yams and fried bacon. It was a glorious repast, and I succeeded in getting quite well acquainted with him. We are on the Bowden plantation and he belongs to a family of that name. Is very fearful of helping me as his master is a strong Secesh., and he says would whip him within an inch of his life if it was known. Promise him not to be seen by any one and he has promised to get me something more to eat after it gets dark. Later. — After my noonday meal went back toward the low ground and waited for my supper, which came half an hour ago and it is not yet dark. Had a good supper of boiled seasoned turnips, corn bread and sour milk, the first milk I have had in about a year. Begs me to go off in the morning, which I have promised to do. says for me to go two or three miles on to another plantation owned by LeCleye, where there are good negroes who will feed me. Thanked the old fellow for his kindness says the war is about over and the Yanks expected to free them all soon. It's getting pretty dark now, and I go to bed filled to overflowing; in fact, most too much so.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 122-3

Captain Charles Wright Wills: May 7, 1864, 12 p.m.

Near LaFayette, Ga., 12 m., May 7, 1864.

Have just got into camp and washed my face. Four divisions filing into the road ahead of us, delayed us five whole hours, and their trains have made us seven hours marching 8 miles. Somebody says we are 19 miles from Rome. The boys have started a new dodge on the citizens. One of my men told me of playing it last night. When we camped for the night he went to a house and inquiring about the neighbors found out one who had relatives North; and something of the family history. Then he called on this party and represented himself as belonging to the northern branch of the family, got to kiss the young lady cousins, had a pleasant time generally, and returned with his haversack full of knicknacks, and the pictures of his cousins, with whom he had promised to correspond. At one house on the road to-day 10 or 12 women had congregated to see the troops pass. An officer stopped at the house just as our regiment came up, and the boys commenced yelling at him, “Come out of that, Yank;” you could have heard them two miles. Never saw a man so mortified. Colonel Wright tells me we are about seven miles from the Rebels at some ridge. We will get into position to-morrow and fight next day — that is, they would, if I were not present. We camped in a “whale” of a sweet potato patch, and the boys have about dug up the seed and gobbled it.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 236

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 12, 1864

Still getting better fast, and doctor says too fast. Now do nearly all the diary writing. Hardly seems possible that our own Yankee gunboats are so near us, so near that we can hear them fire off their guns, but such is the case Reports have it that the Johnny Rebels are about worsted. Has been a hard war and cruel one. Mike does all my cooking now, although an invalid. He trades a sweet potato for vinegar, which tastes the best of anything, also have other things suitable for the sick, and this morning had an egg. My gold rings will put me in good health again. All the time medicine, that is, three or four times a day; and sores on my body are healing up now for the first time. Mouth, which was one mass of black bloody swellings on the inside, is now white and inflamation gone, teeth however, loose, and have lost four through scurvy, having come out themselves. My eyes, which had been trying to get in out of sight, are now coming out again and look more respectable. Battese was taken prisoner with eighteen other Indians; they all died but one beside himself.

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

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 8, 1864

Talk of Millen, about ninety miles from here. Mike will trade off the rings to-night. Owe Sergt. Winn $12 for onions and sweet potatoes, confederate money however; a dollar corded, is only ten cents in money. Hub Dakin, from Dansville, Mich., is in this hospital. It is said Savannah will be in our hands in less than two months. Some Irish citizens told Mike so. Union army victorious everywhere. Going on twelve months a prisoner of war. Don't want to be exchanged now; could not stand the journey home; just want to be let alone one month and then home and friends. Saw myself in a looking glass for the first time in ten months and am the worst looking specimen don't want to go home in twelve years unless I look different from this; almost inclined to disown myself. Pitch pine smoke is getting peeled off; need skinning. Eye sight improving with other troubles. Can't begin to read a newspaper and with difficulty write a little at a time Can hear big guns every morning from down the river; it is said to be yankee gunboats bidding the city of Savannah “good morning.”

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 101-2

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

Captain Charles Wright Wills: October 3, 1863

Griffin's Landing, October 3, 1863.

To-day one of the pilots and engineers induced the colonel and me go with them over to the Arkansas side. We went over in the yawl, and after a walk of three miles came to a most delightful place owned by Worthington. His son and daughter, bright quadroons, did the honors of the house in his absence. They are the best educated persons of color I ever met. The young man was educated in France and the young woman in Oberlin, Ohio. She played the piano quite well and sings beautifully. A negro lady is something of a novelty, and if I did not conduct myself exactly right in her presence, I think I am somewhat excusable, for I could see the others were equally puzzled. She is well informed, sensible and talks with animation, using very pretty language. She furnished us with peach brandy and honey, a gentle mixture of which produced a very nice toddy. We then moved on some three miles further to the Bass plantation, where we found two of the regular snuff-dipping, swearing, Southern women, of the low, white-trash family. Had lots of fun with them. Got a couple of dozen chickens and a bushel of sweet potatoes of them and started back. Our road lay along a lake and at any minute we could get a shot at cranes, geese, ducks or turtles. A drove of wild turkeys also furnished us with a half dozen shots, but with all the expenditure of powder and lead, our consciences are clear of hurting anything. Got back to Worthington's for dinner at 3 p. m., and to the boat at dark. Altogether one of the most pleasant days I have passed in the army.

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

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: October 2, 1864

Coming cool weather and it braces me right up. Sailors are going away to be exchanged. Ate some sweet potato to-day, and it beats everything how I am gaining. Drink lots of gruel, and the more I drink the more I want. Have vinegar and salt and water mixed together given me, also whiskey, and every little while I am taking something, either food or medicine, and the more I take the more I want. Am just crazy for anything, no matter what. Could eat a mule's ear. Eat rice and vegetable soup. All the talk that I hear is to the effect that the war is most over. Don't want to be disturbed at all until I am well, which will not be very long now. All say if I don't eat too much will soon be well. Mike lives high. Is an ingenious fellow and contrives to get many good things to eat. Gives me anything that he thinks won't hurt me. Setting up in my bunk. Have washed all over and feel fifty per cent, better. Just a jumping toward convalescence.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 99-100

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: September 29, 1864

Yes, I am better, but poor and weak. Feeling hungry more now, and can take nourishment quite often. Mike Hoare calls to see me. He is thinking of escape. Should think a person might escape from here when able. I shall get well now. Sweet potatoes for sale. Like to see such things, but cannot eat them. Rebel officer put his hand on my head a few minutes ago and said something; don't know what. It is said the Yankees can throw shell into Savannah from their gunboats down the river. Sergeant Winn comes to see me and cheers me up. Winn is a sutler as well as nurse, that is, he buys eatables from the guards and other rebels, and sells to our men. Number of marines and sailors in the building adjoining our hospital; also some Yankee officers sick. Winn makes quite a little money. They have soap here to wash with. The encouraging talk of ending the war soon helps me to get well.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 98

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

A priest gave me some alum for my sore mouth. Had a piece of sweet potato, but couldn't eat it. Fearfully weak Soup is all I can eat, and don't always stay down

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 95

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 2nd Lieutenant Luman Harris Tenney: September 17, 1863

Made arrangements to get the boys away if possible. Had boys posted all night. No demonstration to our surprise. Passed through Morristown and Whiteville and camped at Bull's Gap or the junction on railroad. Went to a Doctor's and purchased some bacon and sweet potatoes and tomatoes. Good many citizens out to see us. The Doctor claimed to be loyal. Gave receipt. Boys fare pretty well, Co. "C." Many ladies along the road to see us. Morristown secesh, Newmarket loyal.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 89

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