Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Wednesday, March 19, 1862

This morning it is raining, having rained all night. It is an unwelcome compliment to the fleet. The troops are landing to-day at Pittsburg Landing. The Seventh is still compelled to remain crowded and jammed upon the Fairchild. The men are all anxious to get on to terra firma. It is very unhealthy here—so crowded. The water in the river where so many steamboats are anchored, is not, (so the surgeons say,) a very genuine article, and in consequence a large number of the boys are on the sick list.

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 46

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Thursday, February 20, 1862

To-day we receive orders to hold ourselves in readiness to move at a moment's notice. Lieutenant Colonel Babcock having, from exposure and care in the late battle become prostrated upon a soldier's sick bed, leaves the regiment to-day on a hospital steamer for Paducah, Kentucky. All regret to see him leave, for we can illy spare an officer who has stood by the regiment so faithfully in hours of gloom and darkness. The regiment is now commanded by Major Rowett, and our faith is, that he, like the brave Babcock, will lead us through storm and tempest to victory and glory.

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 43-4

Diary of Laura M. Towne: Monday, June 23, 1862

General Hunter drove us out to the camp of the black regiment, which he reviewed. After our return I saw Mr. McKim and Lucy off, the steamer being crowded with the wounded and sick from the battle of Edisto. Then Mr. French advised my returning to General Hunter's. Mrs. H. had asked me to stay all night, but I had declined. Now, however, it was too late to go back to Beaufort in the little steamer and there was no other chance but a sail-boat, so after waiting and hesitating a long time, I consented to the intrusion, and Mr. French escorted me back again, explaining to General and Mrs. Hunter my predicament. They were cordial in their invitation, and I had a long talk with them about plantation matters, sitting on their piazza, the sentry marching to and fro and members of the staff occasionally favoring us with their company.

The regiment is General Hunter's great pride. They looked splendidly, and the great mass of blackness, animated with a soul and armed so keenly, was very impressive. They did credit to their commander.

As we drove into the camp I pointed out a heap of rotting cotton-seed. “That will cause sickness,” I said. “I ordered it removed,” he said, very quickly, “and why hasn't it been done?” He spoke to the surgeon about it as soon as we reached Drayton's house, which is just beside the camp. The men seemed to welcome General Hunter and to be fond of him. The camp was in beautiful order.

SOURCE: Rupert Sargent Holland, Editor, Letters and Diary of Laura M. Towne: Written from the Sea Islands of South Carolina 1862-1864, p. 70-1

Miss S. M. Pearson, December 22, 1863

Newbern, N. C, Dec. 22d, 1863.

On the morning of Nov. 23d, I was duly installed as Teacher in a log school-house, in Camp Kimball, just across the Trent River, about one mile from the city. I will suppose you have some knowledge of this school, as Mr. Doolittle was its first Teacher. There were present this morning eighty-eight pupils. Mr. James gave me full power to make any changes I might think best, which privilege I have availed myself of. I found all the little ones on the back seats and completely hid by the larger ones. I commenced the next morning by taking the names and ages of all present, the result being 106. There has been a steady increase of numbers each day, until I now have 212 names registered, of all ages from five years to sixty-one. I have fathers and mothers with their children. Women leave their work until the latter part of the day, and boys refuse to accept situations, that they may avail themselves of these privileges. I would that every child in the North, could look on, and see the eagerness manifested by these poor colored children hi their books. It would give them some idea of their own privileges, and perhaps stimulate them to renewed diligence.

I had the benches in front made lower, and placed the smaller children on them, thereby enabling them to touch their feet to the floor. This done, I could command every eye in the room. To arrange them in classes was a work of time. I found a great variety of books, and but three of the National series. They have a great desire to read from a large book, supposing they are learning faster. I found they knew by heart the lessons in the “Picture Primer” which they had, and could tell me how much of the book they knew, while in fact they could not read one word. Another difficulty has been to keep them in a class. After arranging them, I have had to watch very sharp, and tell them time and again, until now they do very well. I have introduced six dozen National Primers, having two classes — one just commencing to read words of two letters, the other a class of thirty-five, reading words of four and five letters. I have a letter class, numbering sixty and upwards; this comprises scholars of all ages. These I teach in concert from the various cards which I have introduced, giving them oral instruction of various kinds, afterwards hearing each one read from the Picture Primer which I found in school. This exercise seems to interest the older ones, as much as the class itself. I have a class of ten in the National First Reader, a small class in the Second Reader, also several who require attention separately. They are anxious to know how to write and cipher. I give some exercises on the blackboard, besides copies on their slates, and never before have I felt so much the need of two pairs of hands as now. I was without an assistant until last week, and now have one who has been teaching in Newbern since July, and is only with me for a short time. I have formed a class in Davis's Primary Arithmetic, numbering ten. These I intend to hear recite after the others are dismissed, but they are mostly disposed to stay and listen.

I have been obliged to dismiss the younger children at the close of their exercises, in order to make room for the rest. This difficulty will be obviated by enlarging the building, which has already commenced, when I shall hope to labor to better advantage. I wish I could introduce you to this school as it appears in the morning, and let them sing to you one of their own native songs; afterwards one which they have just learned — “Rally round the Flag.” They are delighted with our songs, and catch them very readily. You may imagine how they look, but to know fully, you should see for yourself. All the books I ever read, gave me but a faint idea of their real appearance. I cannot call all their names, but can tell them wherever we meet, by the flash of their eyes. I find them strong in their attachment to us, while their thoughts are oftentimes expressed in the most touching language. I wish I could give you an exact report of one of their public speeches, as well as some of their prayers. They call down all manner of blessings on us Teachers, as well as all the people of the North, not excepting “Mr. Linkum” and his Cabinet. My own language is meagre compared with theirs. They speak but the utterances of a full heart, overflowing with gratitude and exceeding great joy, that after so many years of oppression and wrong, they are now Freedmen. Who can wonder? One expression which I heard in a prayer, I must repeat: —“Grant, O Lord, that not a feather be lacking in the ‘wing of the North.’ Indulgent Father, we thank thee thou didst ever make a Linkum. O spare his life, and bless our Union Army; may one man put a thousand to flight, and ten chase ten thousand.”

The sick in camp send for the “School Misses.” Some of their leading men have been to the school-house, and expressed their gratitude for my service in a very acceptable manner. I also visit them in their homes, and as far as possible relieve their wants by distributing clothing, but my pen fails to tell you of the destitution, rags, patches, and half nakedness. I would that I were able to arouse the people of the North more thoroughly to a sense of the needs of this suffering people; another winter may not find them so unprepared for the cold.

I think I have introduced you sufficiently for the first time to my school, which I have named for Dr. Russell, and it will hereafter be known as the Russell School. I hope to be able to give you favorable reports from time to time. There is a great work to be done, and no person who has a love for this field of labor, need stand with folded hands.

S. M. Pearson.

SOURCE: New-England Educational Commission for Freedmen, Extracts from Letters of Teachers and Superintendents of the New-England Educational Commission for Freedmen, Fourth Series, January 1, 1864, p. 10-11

Captain Charles Wright Wills: May 22, 1864

May 22, 1864.

Two regiments of three-year's men who did not “veteran” started home to-day. The loss of the army in this way will not be much. Not more than one or two regiments in any corps refused to veteran. We are drawing 20 days' rations, sending sick back to convalescent camp at Chattanooga, and making all preparations for a hard campaign.

Four miles northwest of Van Wirt, Ga.,

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 245

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: November 12, 1864

Everything quiet and running smoothly. Waiting for something. Have just heard the election news — Mr. Lincoln again elected, and "Little Mac" nowhere. Just about as I expected. Returns were rather slow in coming in, evidently waiting for the Camp Lawton vote. Well, did what I could for George; hurrahed until my throat was sore and stayed so for a week; know that I influenced twenty or thirty votes, and now can get no office because the political opponent was elected. Tis ever thus. Believe I would make a good postmaster for this place. There is none here and should have applied immediately, if my candidate had been elected. More sick taken away on the cars; rebels say to be exchanged  Appears to be a sort of mystery of late, and can't make head nor tail of their movements. Would not be surprised at any hour to receive news to get ready for our lines. Don't Know that I have felt so before since my imprisonment. Have lived rather high to day on capital made yesterday and early this morning. Just my way — make a fortune and then spend it.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 115

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

Camp Lawton, Millen, Ga. — Arrived at our destination not far from midnight, and it was a tedious journey. Two died in the car I was in. Were taken from the cars to this prison in what they call ambulances, but what I call lumber wagons. Are now congregated in the south-east corner of the stockade under hastily put up tents. This morning we have drawn rations, both the sick and the well, which are good and enough. The stockade is similar to that at Andersonville, but in a more settled country, the ground high and grassy, and through the prison runs a stream of good pure water, with no swamp at all. It is apparently a pleasant and healthy location. A portion of the prison is timber land, and the timber has been cut down and lays where it fell, and the men who arrived before us have been busily at work making shanties and places to sleep in. There are about six thousand prisoners here, and I should judge there was room for twelve or fifteen thousand. Men say they are given food twice each day, which consists of meal and fresh beef in rather small quantities, but good and wholesome. The rebel officer in command is a sociable and kindly disposed man, and the guards are not strict, that is, not cruelly so. We are told that our stay here will be short  A number of our men have been detailed to cook the food for the sick, and their well being is looked to by the rebel surgeon as well as our own men. The same surgeon who for the last ten days had charge of us in Savannah has charge of us now He does not know over and above much but on the whole does very well. Barrels of molasses (nigger toe) have been rolled inside and it is being issued to the men, about one-fourth of a pint to each man, possibly a little more. Some of the men, luxuriantly, put their allowances together and make molasses candy of it. One serious drawback is the scarcity of dishes, and one man I saw draw his portion is his two hands, which held it until his comrade could find a receptacle for it.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 109-10

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: October 31, 1864

Reported that the well prisoners have all left this city for Millen and we go to-night or to-morrow. I am duly installed as nurse, and walk with only one cane. Legs still slightly drawn up. Hub Dakin, Land and myself now mess together. Am feeling very well. Will describe my appearance. Will interest me to read in after years, if no one else. Am writing this diary to please myself, now. I weigh one hundred and seventeen pounds, am dressed in rebel jacket, blue pants with one leg torn off and fringed about half way between my knee and good sized foot, the same old pair of miss matched shoes I wore in Andersonville, very good pair of stockings, a “biled” white shirt, and a hat which is a compromise between a clown's and the rebel white partially stiff hat; am poor as a tadpole, in fact look just about like an East Tennesseean, of the poor white trash order. You might say that I am an “honery looking cuss” and not be far out of the way. My cheeks are sunken, eyes sunken, sores and blotches both outside and inside my mouth, and my right leg the whole length of it, red, black and blue and tender of touch. My eyes, too, are very weak, and in a bright sun I have to draw the slouch hat away down over them. Bad as this picture is, I am a beauty and picture of health in comparison to my appearance two months ago. When taken prisoner was fleshy, weighing about one hundred and seventy or seventy-five, round faced, in fact an overgrown, ordinary, green looking chap of twenty. Had never endured any hardships at all and was a spring chicken. As has been proven however, I had an iron constitution that has carried me through, and above all a disposition to make the best of everything no matter how bad, and considerable will power with the rest. When I think of the thousands and thousands of thorough-bred soldiers, tough and hearty and capable of marching thirty, forty, and even fifty miles in twenty-four hours and think nothing of it, I wonder and keep wondering that it can be so, that I am alive and gaining rapidly in health and strength. Believe now that no matter where we are moved to, I shall continue to improve, and get well. Succumbed only at the last in Andersonville, when no one could possibly keep well. With this general inventory of myself and the remark that I haven't a red cent, or even a Confederate shin-plaster, will put up my diary and get ready to go where ever they see fit to send us, as orders have come to get ready. Later —We are on the Georgia Central Railroad, en-route for Millen, Ga. which is ninety miles from Savannah, and I believe north. Are in box cars and very crowded with sick prisoners. Two nurses, myself being one of them, have charge of about a hundred sick. There are, however, over six hundred on the train.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 108-9

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: October 28, 1864

Am feeling splendid, and legs most straight. Getting fat fast. Am to be a nurse soon. Reported that they are moving prisoners to Millen. Over a thousand went yesterday. About ten thousand of the Andersonville prisoners came to Savannah, ten thousand went to Florence and ten to Charleston, S. C. Only the sick were left behind there, and it is said they died like sheep after the well ones went away. Great excitement among the Gray-coats. Some bad army news for them, I reckon. Negroes at work fortifying about the city.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 106-7

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 1, 1864

A prisoner of war nearly a year have stood and went through the very worst kind of treatment. Am getting ravenously hungry, but they won't give me much to eat. Even Mike won't give me anything. Says the doctors forbid it. Well, I suppose it is so. One trouble with the men here who are sick, they are too indolent and discouraged, which counteracts the effect of medicines. A dozen or twenty die in the twenty-four hours. Have probably half tablespoonful of whiskey daily, and it is enough. Land is a good fellow. (I wrote this last sentence myself, and Land says he will scratch it out. — Ransom). A high garden wall surrounds us Wall is made of stone. Mike dug around the corners of the walls, and in out of the way places, and got together a mess of greens out of pusley. Offered me some and then wouldn't let me have it. Meaner than pusley. Have threatened to lick the whole crowd in a week.

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

Captain Charles Wright Wills: September 27, 1863

September 27.

We sent our sick, nearly 100 in number, by wagon to the Big Black railroad depot, six miles, where they took the cars for Vicksburg. They will there await our arrival. I have now but 31 men in my company in camp. Ten months ago I marched 72 men from Bolivar, Tenn., to Lagrange. Not one has been lost by the bullet, and today a difference of 41 in the duty list. A rumor prevails to-day that Rosecrans has had a severe battle and has been defeated. It is impossible to learn or hear anything in this place until the date alone would make it uninteresting. Blair's division moved into Vicksburg from the depot to-day to embark. Osterhaus' division is already on its way up the river. In the evening, with Captains Bishop and Smith and Lieutenant Johnson, had a rather dull game of “California Seven Up.” All kinds of rumors today about the fight in northern Georgia. Have no hope of ever hearing the truth of the matter in camp. We are now 12 days behind in papers. The 3d brigade of our division and some cavalry started, with three days rations, on a scout across the river to-day. Suppose the object is to cover our move to Vicksburg, though I don't believe there are 100 armed Rebels this side of the Alabama line. The soldiers of our division have been having some high fun for the last two days. Orders are very strict against firing in camp, but the men found out they could get up some artificial firing by putting green can in the fire. The steam from the sap generating between the joints will make an explosion equal to a gun fired. And they got up some artillery firing by putting canteens half full of water, stopping them tightly and then putting them in the flames. They did this just to bore the officers who are held responsible by the general for all firing. To-night the general has ordered all the officers of the 40th Illinois to patrol the camp the whole night. This, of course, tickles the men hugely, and from their beds in their tents they have been talking over the duties of a sentry for the benefit of their officer's ears. The devilment that soldiers cannot contrive must be unearthly. To-day some of the 6th Iowa filled an oyster can half full of powder, set a slow train to it and planted it in the ground, they then set a cracker box over it and got a negro to dancing on the box A coal was then touched to the train and the "nigger" was blown full 20 feet. He landed, fortunately, without injury, but so badly scared that he was crazy for an hour. In the evening called on Captain Pinney of the 46th Ohio, and spent a very pleasant evening. He says that Vallandigham will poll about ten votes in their regiment; but that his disciples dare not open their mouths to advocate his cause. He says the loyal men would kill them sure if they dared to boast of their allegiance to a traitor.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 191-2

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

Am decidedly better and getting quite an appetite but can get nothing but broth, gruel, &c. Mouth very bad. Two or three teeth have come out, and can't eat any hard food any way. They give me quinine, at least I think it is quinine. Good many visitors come here to see the sick, and they look like union people. Savannah is a fine place from all accounts of it, Mike is getting entirely over his troubles and talks continually of getting away, there are a great many Irish about here, and they are principally union men. Mike wishes I was able to go with him. Nurses are mostly marines who have been sick and are convalescent. As a class they are good fellows, but some are rough ones. Are very profane. The cords in my legs loosening up a little. Whiskey and water given me to-day, also weakened vinegar and salt. Am all the time getting better. Later — My faithful friend came to see me to-day. Was awful glad to see him. He is well. A guard came with him. Battese is quite a curiosity among the Savannah rebels Is a very large, broad shouldered Indian, rather ignorant, but full of common sense and very kind hearted. Is allowed many favors.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 98-9

Elizabeth Adams Lusk to Captain William Thompson Lusk, November 17, 1862

Norwich, Conn.

November 17th, 1862.

My own dear Son:

I think I will commence the week by writing a letter to you who in these times of trouble occupy so large a share of my thoughts. Sam Elliott was here on Saturday, dined with us and stayed some hours. His sad condition makes me feel very melancholy. Poor fellow! How he has suffered. I sometimes wish you were all withdrawn from the Army. Oh! my poor, poor country! It is so grievous to see our sons and friends maimed, sick, or to know that they are dead. He (Elliott) tells me you are well, and seem strong. God has indeed been merciful to spare your life and strength amid such great dangers as you have passed through during the last eighteen months. Elliott talks of returning to his duties this week. He certainly ought not, for he is weak, sick, and unfit for exertion; besides that, he requires the most nourishing diet. He told me that he found you at breakfast on mouldy bread and sloppy coffee, while we who are at home doing nothing, are fattening on luxuries.

Oh! my dear, dear son, I feel so anxious about the effect of this coming cold winter, and I cannot help a feeling of bitterness that you are not provided with proper food. If you should have an attack of rheumatism, do get permission to return to be taken care of properly. I hear nothing more of your prospects in New-York, but am sure your friends will not relax their exertions. We are all well here, and the Grands are doing finely, especially the last. A week from Thursday is our Thanksgiving Day in Conn., so we are expecting Thomas and Lillie to pass the day, after which I shall return with them to New-York for the winter. Elliott told me when he reached New-York, being cold, he wrapped around him the blanket Hunt gave him, and as he staggered from weakness, a police officer arrested him for drunkenness, but released him immediately on discovering that he was ill. What is the general feeling in the Army regarding the removal of McClellan, as far as you can judge? Uncle John is violently opposed to him, and Hunt, I think, partakes of his feelings. Whether justly, or unjustly, there is certainly a strong party against him. The Post and Tribune oppose him, the World and Express uphold him, while the Herald humbly submits its judgment to the will of the President.

Mary Wells and her husband have returned from Europe, and are expected here this week. Hannah has nearly, or quite recovered her strength. I have not much news to tell you. The Twenty-sixth Regt. left last Thursday, to the relief of some of our citizens. They were in town at all hours, and a hundred or more at once would run past the guard and rush to their tents when they pleased. The Lt.-Col. when issuing his orders, would address them thus: “Gentlemen, please to stand back,” or, “Gentlemen, please to stop,” when he wished them to halt. This is the gossip. Very few of them were known in town, and consequently less interest was felt for them than for the Eighteenth and Twenty-First. Edward Ells, and young Meech who married Louisa Bond went with them. Gen. Tyler and Ned, Dr. Osgood saw last week in Chicago. He reports that they are having a rather forlorn time. It is some time since their paroled prisoners have seen the paymaster. I hear you have been inconvenienced by the same cause. The papers state that all are now being paid, so I hope you too will receive your own. Uncle Thomas heard somewhere, that the “De Soto” was off New Orleans on her way home for repairs. If this is true, Charles may soon be home.

Good-bye, my own dear son, may the Almighty God be ever your defence and shield.

Always very lovingly,

Mother.

Elliott said, if the Medical Examiner forbids his return this week, he should come and see me again. His brother William is in Washington. His arm is still useless.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 226-8

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

Can eat better — or drink rather; Some rebel general dead and buried with honors outside. Had another wash and general clean up; ocean breezes severe for invalids. Am visited twice a day by the rebel surgeon who instructs nurses about treatment. Food principally arrow root; have a little whisky. Sleep great deal of the time. Land, my acquaintance and mess-mate, is lame from scurvy, but is not weak and sick as I am. When I think of anything, say: “Land, put her down,” and he writes what I tell him. Everything clean here, but then any place is clean after summering in Andersonville. Don't improve much and sometimes not at all; get blue sometimes; nature of the beast suppose; other sick in the tent worry and make me nervous.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 97

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: September 22, 1864

Good many sick brought here. Everybody is kind, rebels and all. Am now differently sick than at any other time. Take lots of medicine, eat nothing but gruel. Surgeons are very attentive. Man died in my tent. Oh, if I was away by myself, I would get well. Don't want to see a sick man. That makes me sick.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 96

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Luman Harris Tenney: January 12, 1864

Went to Hospitals with Dr. Smith to see sick. 2nd O. V. C. hospitals in wretched condition. Saw Joshua — sick — and fixed papers. Part of regt. came down.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 105

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

Time slowly dragging itself along. Cut some wretchs hair most every day. Have a sign out “Hair Cutting,” as well as “Washing,” and by the way, Battese has a new wash board made from a piece of the scaffold lumber. About half the time do the work for nothing, in fact not more than one in three or four pays anything — expenses not much though, don't have to pay any rent. All the mess keeps their hair cut short which is a very good advertisement. My eyes getting weak with other troubles. Can just hobble around. Death rate more than ever, reported one hundred and sixty five per day; said by some to be more than that, but 165 is about the figure Bad enough without making any worse than it really is. Jimmy Devers most dead and begs us to take him to the hospital and guess will have to. Every morning the sick are carried to the gate in blankets and on stretchers, and the worst cases admitted to the hospital. Probably out of five or six hundred half are admitted Do not think any lives after being taken there; are past all human aid. Four out of every five prefer to stay inside and die with their friends rather than go to the hospital. Hard stories reach us of the treatment of the sick out there and I am sorry to say the cruelty emanates from our own men who act as nurses. These dead beats and bummer nurses are the same bounty jumpers the U. S. authorities have had so much trouble with. Do not mean to say that all the nurses are of that class but a great many of them are.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 88

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: August 2, 1863

We have warm, fair weather now; but the momentary gloom, hanging like the pall of death over our affairs, cannot be dispelled without a decisive victory somewhere, or news of speedy foreign intervention. The letters which I read at the department this morning, contain no news whatever. I have suggested to the government to prohibit the exchange of newspapers in the flag of truce boat; but I doubt if they will act upon it. It is a manifest injury to us.

The exchange of prisoners is practically resumed; the Federal boat delivering yesterday 750 of our sick and wounded; and we returned 600 of their sick and wounded.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 4

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

Capt. Wirtz sent inside a guard of fifteen or twenty to arrest and take out quite a number of prisoners. They had the names and would go right to their quarters and take them. Some tell-tale traitor has been informing on them, for attempting to escape or something Wirtz punishes very hard now; so much worse than a few months ago. Has numerous instruments of torture just outside the gate. Sores afflict us now, and the Lord only knows what next. Scurvy and scurvy sores, dropsy, not the least thing to eat that can be called fit for any one, much less a sick man, water that to drink is poison, no shelter, and surrounded by raiders liable to cut our throats any time Surely, this is a go. Have been reading over the diary, and find nothing but grumbling and growlings. Had best enumerate some of the better things of this life. I am able to walk around the prison, although quite lame. Have black pepper to put in our soups. Am as clean perhaps as any here, with good friends to talk cheerful to. Then, too, the raiders will let us alone until about the last, for some of them will get killed when they attack the “Astor House Mess,” Am probably as well off as any here who are not raiders, and I should be thankful, and am thankful. Will live probably two or three months yet. “If t'weren't for hope the heart would break,” and I am hopeful yet. A Pennsylvanian of German descent, named Van Tassel, and who has “sorter identified himself with us” for two or three months, died a few moments ago The worst cases of the sick are again taken to the hospital — that is, a few of the worst cases. Many prefer to die among their friends inside. Henry Clayton also died to-day. Was at one time in charge of our Division, and an old prisoner. Mike Hoare still hangs on nobly, as also do many other of my friends and acquaintances. Dorr Blakeman stands it unusually well. Have had no meat now for ten days; nothing but one-third of a loaf of corn bread and half a pint of cow peas for each man, each day. Wood is entirely gone, and occasionally squads allowed to go and get some under guard. Rowe went out to-day, was not able to carry much, and that had to be divided between a hundred men. One of the most annoying things is being squadded over every few days, sick and all. It's an all day job, and have to stand out until we are all tired out, never getting any food on these days.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 72-3