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: 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

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

Marine Hospital, Savannah, Ga. — A great change has taken place since I last wrote in my diary. Am in heaven now compared with the past. At about midnight, September 7th, our detachment was ordered outside at Andersonville, and Battese picked me up and carried me to the gate. The men were being let outside in ranks of four, and counted as they went out, They were very strict about letting none go but the well ones, or those who could walk. The rebel adjutant stood upon a box by the gate, watching very close Pitch pine knots were burning in the near vicinity to give light. As it came our turn to go Battese got me in the middle of the rank, stood me up as well as I could stand, and with himself on one side, and Sergt. Rowe on the other began pushing our way through the gate. Could not help myself a particle, and was so faint that I hardly knew what was going on. As we were going through the gate the adjutant yells out: “Here, here! hold on there, that man can't go, hold on there!” and Battese crowding right along outside. The adjutant struck over the heads of the men and tried to stop us, but my noble Indian friend kept straight ahead, hallooing: “He all right, he well, he go!” And so I got outside, and adjutant having too much to look after to follow me. After we were outside, I was carried to the railroad in the same coverlid which I fooled the rebel out of when captured, and which I presume has saved my life a dozen times. We were crowded very thick into box cars I was nearly dead, and hardly knew where we were or what was going on. We were two days in getting to Savannah. Arrived early in the morning. The railroads here run in the middle of very wide, handsome streets. We were unloaded, I should judge, near the middle of the city. The men as they were unloaded, fell into line and were marched away. Battese got me out of the car, and laid me on the pavement. They then obliged him to go with the rest, leaving me; would not let him take me. I lay there until noon with four or five others, without any guard. Three or four times negro servants came to us from houses near by, and gave us water, milk and food. With much difficulty I could set up, but was completely helpless. A little after noon a wagon came and toted us to a temporary hospital in the outskirts of the city, and near a prison pen they had just built for the well ones. Where I was taken it was merely an open piece of ground, having wall tents erected and a line of guards around it. I was put into a tent and lay on the coverlid. That night some gruel was given to me, and a nurse whom I had seen in Andersonville looked in, and my name was taken. The next morning, September 10th, I woke up and went to move my hands, and could not do it; could not move either limb so much as an inch. Could move my head with difficulty. Seemed to be paralyzed, but in no pain whatever. After a few hours a physician came to my tent, examined and gave me medicine, also left medicine, and one of the nurses fed me some soup or gruel. By night I could move my hands. Lay awake considerable through the night thinking. Was happy as a clam in high tide. Seemed so nice to be under a nice clean tent, and there was such cool pure air. The surroundings were so much better that I thought now would be a good time to die, and I didn't care one way or the other. Next morning the doctor came, and with him Sergt. Winn. Sergt Winn I had had a little acquaintance with at Andersonville Doctor said I was terribly reduced, but he thought I would improve. Told them to wash me. A nurse came and washed me, and Winn brought me a white cotton shirt, and an old but clean pair of pants; my old clothing, which was in rags, was taken away. Two or three times during the day I had gruel of some kind, I don't know what. Medicine was given me by the nurses. By night I could move my feet and legs a little. The cords in my feet and legs were contracted so, of course, that I couldn't straighten myself out. Kept thinking to myself, “am I really away from that place Andersonville?” It seemed too good to be true. On the morning of the 12th, ambulances moved all to the Marine Hospital, or rather an orchard in same yard with Marine Hospital, where thirty or forty nice new tents have been put up, with banks about two feet from the ground, inside. Was put into a tent. By this time could move my arms considerable. We were given vinegar weakened with water, and also salt in it Had medicine. My legs began to get movable more each day, also my arms, and to day I am laying on my stomach and writing in my diary. Mike Hoare is also in this hospital. One of my tentmates is a man named Land, who is a printer, same as myself. I hear that Wm. B Rowe is here also, but haven't seen him.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 93-5

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: September 5, 1864

The nice spring of cold water still flows and furnishes drinking water for all; police guard it night and day so to be taken away only in small quantities. Three hundred said to be dying off each day.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 93

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

A nice spring of cold water has broken out in camp, enough to furnish nearly all here with drinking water. God has not forgotten us. Battese brings it to me to drink.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 91

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

The water is a God-send. Sanders better and Rowe worse.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 92

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

Am still hoping for relief. Water is bracing some up, myself with others. Does not hurt us

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 92

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

Alive and kicking Drank some soured water made from meal and water.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 90

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: July 10, 1864

Have bought of a new prisoner quite a large (thick I mean,) blank book so as to continue my diary. Although it's a tedious and tiresome task, am determined to keep it up. Don't know of another man in prison who is doing likewise. Wish I had the gift of description that I might describe this place. Know that I am not good at such things, and have more particularly kept track of the mess which was the “Astor House Mess” on Belle Isle, and is still called so here. Thought that Belle Isle was a very bad place, and used about the worst language I knew how to use in describing it, and so find myself at fault in depicting matters here as they are. At Belle Isle we had good water and plenty of it, and I believe it depends more upon water than food as regards health. We also had good pure air from up the James River. Here we have the very worst kind of water. Nothing can be worse or nastier than the stream drizzling its way through this camp. And for air to breathe, it is what arises from this foul place. On all four sides of us are high walls and tall trees, and there is apparently no wind or breeze to blow away the stench, and we are obliged to breathe and live in it. Dead bodies lay around all day in the broiling sun, by the dozen and even hundreds, and we must suffer and live in this atmosphere. It's too horrible for me to describe in fitting language. There was once a very profane man driving a team of horses attached to a wagon in which there were forty or fifty bushels of potatoes It was a big load and there was a long hill to go up. The very profane man got off the load of potatoes to lighten the weight, and started the team up the hill. It was hard work, but they finally reached the top and stopped to rest. The profane man looked behind him and saw that the end board of the wagon had slipped out just as he had started, and there the potatoes were, scattered all the way along up the hill. Did the man make the very air blue with profanity? No, he sat down on a log feeling that he couldn't do the subject justice and so he remarked: “No! it's no use, I can't do it justice” While I have no reason or desire to swear, I certainly cannot do this prison justice. It's too stupendous an undertaking. Only those who are here will ever know what Andersonville is.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 81

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

Oh, how hot, and oh, how miserable. The news that six have been sentenced to be hanged is true, and one of them is Moseby. The camp is thoroughly under control of the police now, and it is a heavenly boon. Of course there is some stealing and robbery, but not as before. Swan, of our mess, is sick with scurvy. I am gradually swelling up and growing weaker. But a few more pages in my diary. Over a hundred and fifty dying per day now, and twenty six thousand in camp. Guards shoot now very often. Boys, as guards, are the most cruel. It is said that if they kill a Yankee, they are given a thirty days furlough. Guess they need them as soldiers too much to allow of this. The swamp now is fearful, water perfectly reeking with prison offal and poison, still men drink it and die. Rumors that the six will be hung inside. Bread to-day and it is so coarse as to do more hurt than good to a majority of the prisoners. The place still gets worse. Tunneling is over with; no one engages in it now that I know of. The prison is a success as regards safety; no escape except by death, and very many take advantage of that way. A man who has preached to us (or tried to) is dead. Was a good man I verily believe, and from Pennsylvania. It's almost impossible for me to get correct names to note down; the last named man was called “the preacher,” and I can find no other name for him. Our quartette of singers a few rods away is disbanded. One died, one nearly dead, one a policeman and the other cannot sing alone, and so where we used to hear and enjoy good music evenings, there is nothing to attract us from the groans of the dying. Having formed a habit of going to sleep as soon as the air got cooled off and before fairly dark, I wake up at two or three o'clock and stay awake. I then take in all the horrors of the situation. Thousands are groaning, moaning and crying, with no bustle of the daytime to drown it. Guards every half hour call out the time and post, and there is often a shot to make one shiver as if with the ague. Must arrange my sleeping hours to miss getting owly in the morning. Have taken to building air castles of late, on being exchanged. Getting loony, I guess, same as all the rest.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 78-80

Major-General Benjamin F. Butler to Lieutenant-General Winfield Scott, May 24, 1861

HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF VIRGINIA,

Fort Monroe, May 24, 1861.

Lieutenant-General WINFIELD SCOTT:

I have the honor to report my arrival at this post Wednesday morning at 8 o'clock. I found that no troops had arrived except some recruits for the Third and Fourth Massachusetts Regiments of three-months' men and two detached companies of three-years' men which have been temporarily annexed to those regiments. This morning the Second New York Volunteers have reported themselves in good condition, numbering 782 men. These I have encamped on the farm of Mr. Segar, which is at the end of Mill Creek Bridge toward Hampton, and have also ordered into camp in connection with them the First Vermont Regiment (militia), Colonel Phelps. The force at this post may be stated thus: Colonel Dimick, commanding U.S. Regulars, 415 men; Third Regiment Massachusetts Militia and one company three-years' men, 727 men; Fourth Massachusetts Militia and one company three-years' men, 783 men; First Vermont Militia, 779 men; Second New York Volunteers, three years, 782 men. As there is very little sickness, the effective force kill be probably 3,375 men. Of these, the New York and Vermont regiments only are furnished with camp equipage.

Upon my arrival I put myself in communication with Colonel De Russy, of the Engineers, and consulted him upon two subjects:

First, as to the supply of water. I found that on that day the Minnesota was supplying herself from a well or spring on land of Mr. Clark, near the end of Mill Creek Bridge, about a mile from the fort, and that after pumping 800 gallons the well was exhausted, but refilled itself during the night, and from personal examinations of its surroundings I think it may be trusted to supply 700 to 1,000 gallons daily with a little enlargement of the reservoir. The water is of the best quality, and as it is immediately under the guns of the heaviest battery of the fort on the land side, I have thought it proper, with the advice of Colonel De Russy, of the Engineer Corps, to direct that a pipe be put in to bring it into the fort along the bridge and causeway, first having a cistern excavated at the fountain which will contain the whole supply of the spring. I have also advised with Colonel De Russy of the propriety of finishing the artesian well which had been begun here, and he is now in communication with a contractor for that purpose. There is an appropriation, as I understand, of $14,000 made by Congress for that purpose.

On Thursday I directed Colonel Phelps, of the Vermont regiment, to make a reconnaissance in force in Hampton and its neighborhood within two miles of the fort, in order to examine its capabilities for en-camping the troops about to arrive, and at the same time I made personal examination of the ground, Colonel De Russy being of opinion that the wood suggested by the Lieutenant-General might be a little unhealthy, and I was further determined upon encamping in this direction by considerations of probable advances in this direction, to which I will take leave to call your attention soon. The rebels upon our approach attempted to burn the bridge over Hampton Creek, but the fire was promptly extinguished by the Vermonters, assisted by the citizens. Colonel Phelps passed into the village of Hampton, and found only a few citizens, who professed to be watching their negroes, in which occupation I have not as yet disturbed them. I therefore encamped Colonel Phelps' Vermont regiment and Colonel Carr's New York regiment on the point of land just above the spring, about half way between Fort Monroe and Hampton.

Saturday, May 25. — I had written thus far when I was called away to meet Major Cary, of the active Virginia volunteers, upon questions which have arisen of very considerable importance both in a military and political aspect, and which I beg leave to submit herewith.

On Thursday night, three negroes, field hands, belonging to Col. Charles Mallory, now in command of the secession forces in this district, delivered themselves up to my picket guard, and, as I learned from the report of the officer of the guard in the morning, had been detained by him. I immediately gave personal attention to the matter, and found satisfactory evidence that these men were about to be taken to Carolina for the purpose of aiding the secession forces there; that two of them left wives and children (one a free woman) here; that the other had left his master from fear that he would be called upon to take part in the rebel armies. Satisfied of these facts from cautious examination of each of the negroes apart from the others, I determined for the present, and until better advised, as these men were very serviceable, and I had great need of labor in my quartermaster's department, to avail myself of their services, and that I would send a receipt to Colonel Mallory that I had so taken them, as I would for any other property of a private citizen which the exigencies of the service seemed to require to be taken by me, and especially property that was designed, adapted, and about to be used against the United States.

As this is but an individual instance in a course of policy which may be required to be pursued with regard to this species of property, I have detailed to the Lieutenant-General this case, and ask his direction. I am credibly informed that the negroes in this neighborhood are now being employed in the erection of batteries and other works by the rebels, which it would be nearly or quite impossible to construct without their labor. Shall they be allowed the use of this property against the United States, and we not be allowed its use in aid of the United States?

Major Cary, upon my interview with him, which took place between this fort and Hampton, desired information upon several questions: First: Whether I would permit the removal through the blockade of the families of all persons who desired to pass southward or northward. In reply to this, I informed him that I could not permit such removal, for the reasons, first, that presence of the families of belligerents in a country was always the best hostage for the good behavior of the citizens; and, secondly, that one object of our blockade being to prevent the passage of supplies of provisions into Virginia so long as she remained in a hostile attitude, the reduction of the number of consumers would in so far tend to neutralize that effect.

He also desired to know if the transit of persons and families northward from Virginia would be permitted. I answered him that with the exception of an interruption at Baltimore there was no interruption of the travel of peaceable persons north of the Potomac, and that all the internal lines of travel through Virginia were at present in the hands of his friends, and that it depended upon them whether that line of travel was interrupted, and that the authorities at Washington could better judge of this question than myself, as necessary travel could go by way of Washington; that the passage through our blockading squadron would require an amount of labor and surveillance to prevent abuse which I did not conceive I ought to be called upon to perform.

Major Cary demanded to know with regard to the negroes what course I intended to pursue. I answered him substantially as I have written above, when he desired to know if I did not feel myself bound by my constitutional obligations to deliver up fugitives under the fugitive-slave act. To this I replied that the fugitive-slave act did not affect a foreign country, which Virginia claimed to be, and that she must reckon it one of the infelicities of her position that in so far at least she was taken at her word; that in Maryland, a loyal State, fugitives from service had been returned, and that even now, although so much pressed by my necessities for the use of these men of Colonel Mallory's, yet if their master would come to the fort and take the oath of allegiance to the Constitution of the United States I would deliver the men up to him and endeavor to hire their services of him if he desired to part with them. To this Major Cary responded that Colonel Mallory was absent.

This morning the steamer Alabama arrived, having on board Colonel Duryea's regiment of New York, 850 strong, fully equipped. I have caused them to be landed and encamped with the First Vermont. The steamer Pembroke, from Massachusetts, has arrived, having two unattached companies — one of rifles and the other of infantry, 101 men each, and without equipage — so that now the actual number of men ready for service may be set down at 4,400, but not very efficient, some being quite new recruits and others not fully equipped, two regiments being wholly without tents.

The rebels have built a very strong battery on Sewell's Point, at the entrance of Elizabeth River, about four miles from this post, and about two and one-half miles from the Ripraps, or Fort Calhoun, and supported in the rear, at the distance of about a mile across Tanner's Creek, by the rebel forces gathered about there, amounting, as nearly as I can ascertain, to some 3,000 or 4,000 men, it being understood from the attack of the Monticello on Sunday last that I intended to menace Norfolk in that direction. Of course I had not at my disposal any force sufficient to make such an attack and carry this battery with any hope of holding possession of it should it be taken. I had determined, however, upon consultation with Commodore Stringham, to engage the battery with the naval force, and to endeavor, under the cover of their fire, to land and at least destroy the guns and works, and such plan was arranged for this morning; but yesterday Commodore Stringham received orders from the Navy Department to sail at once for Charleston, so that our expedition was disorganized. As we had no sufficient force to make such an attack — in the absence of the flag-ship Minnesota and her guns at long range — as would give the movement that assurance of success which I understand you desire should seem to attend our operations, it has been abandoned. I have, however, directed Colonel De Russy to prepare to put some guns of long range upon the Ripraps, so as to prevent any further approach towards us from Sewell's Point or Willoughby's Spit.

In this connection I beg leave to suggest to the Lieutenant-General the necessity in coast operations for say fifty surf-beats, of such construction as he caused to be prepared for the landing at Vera Cruz, the adaptation and efficiency of which have passed into history. May I respectfully request and urge that such a flotilla be furnished for coast operations.

I have learned that the enemy are about to fortify a point at Newport News, about eleven miles from this place, at the mouth of the James River, and on the northerly side of it. They have already a battery at Pig Point, on the southerly and opposite side of the river, which commands the Nansemond River. I think it of the last importance that we should occupy Newport News, and I am now organizing an expedition consisting of two regiments for that purpose, unless I find unexpected obstacles. I purpose this afternoon, in the steamer Yankee, to make a personal reconnaissance of that point, and at once to occupy the same with that amount of force, intending to intrench there for the purpose of being in possession and command of the entrance to the James River myself, and from that position, by the aid of the naval force, to be in condition to threaten Craney Island and the approaches of Norfolk, and also to hold one of the approaches to Richmond. By a march of nine miles, at farthest, I can support the post at Newport News; by the sea, in two hours, I can afford it relief. There is water enough to permit the approach of the largest sized vessels--indeed the Lieutenant-General will recollect that Newport News Point was once counted upon as a naval depot instead of Norfolk.

Trusting that these dispositions and movements will meet the approval of the Lieutenant-General, and begging pardon for the detailed length of this dispatch, I have the honor to be, most respectfully, your obedient servant,

BENJ. F. BUTLER,

Major-General, Commanding.

[Indorsements.]

MAY 29, 1861

There is much to praise in this report, and nothing to condemn. It is highly interesting in several aspects, particularly in its relation to the slave question.

Respectfully submitted to the Secretary of War.

WINFIELD SCOTT.

I agree with the Lieutenant-General in his entire approval of the within report.

SIMON CAMERON.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 2 (Serial No. 2), p. 648-52

Diary of William Howard Russell: June 22, 1861

An active man would soon go mad if he were confined in Cairo. A mudbank stretching along the course of a muddy river is not attractive to a pedestrian; and, as is the case in most of the Southern cities, there is no place round Cairo where a man can stretch his legs, or take an honest walk in the country. A walk in the country! The Americans have not an idea of what the thing means. I speak now only of the inhabitants of the towns of the States through which I have passed, as far as I have seen of them. The roads are either impassable in mud or knee-deep in dust. There are no green shady lanes, no sheltering groves, no quiet paths through green meadows beneath umbrageous trees. Off the rail there is a morass — or, at best, a clearing — full of stumps. No temptations to take a stroll. Down away South the planters ride or drive; indeed in many places the saunterer by the wayside would probably encounter an alligator, or disturb a society of rattlesnakes. .

To-day I managed to struggle along the levee in a kind of sirocco, and visited the works at the extremity, which were constructed by an Hungarian named Waagner, one of the emigres who came with Kossuth to the United States. I found him in a hut full of flies, suffering from camp diarrhea, and waited on by Mr. O'Leary, who was formerly petty officer in our navy, served in the Furious in the Black Sea, and in the Shannon Brigade in India, now a lieutenant in the United States' army, where I should say he feels himself very much out of place. The Hungarian and the Milesian were, however, quite agreed about the utter incompetence of their military friends around them, and the great merits of heavy artillery. “When I tell them here the way poor Sir William made us rattle about them sixty-eight-pounder guns, the poor ignorant creatures laugh at me — not one of them believes it,” “It is most astonishing,” says the colonel, “how ignorant they are; there is not one of these men who can trace a regular work. Of West Point men I speak not, but of the people about here, and they will not learn of me — from me who know.” However, the works were well enough, strongly covered, commanded both rivers, and not to be reduced without trouble.

The heat drove me in among the flies of the crowded hotel, where Brigadier Prentiss is planning one of those absurd expeditions against a Secessionist camp at Commerce, in the State of Missouri, about two hours steaming up the river, and some twelve or fourteen miles inland. Cairo abounds in Secessionists and spies, and it is needful to take great precautions lest the expedition be known; but, after all, stores must be got ready, and put on board the steamers, and preparations must be made which cannot be concealed from the world. At dusk 700 men, supported by a six-pounder field-piece, were put on board the “City of Alton,” on which they clustered like bees in a swarm, and as the huge engine labored up and down against the stream, and the boat swayed from side to side, I felt a considerable desire to see General Prentiss chucked into the stream for his utter recklessness in cramming on board one huge tinder-box, all fire and touchwood, so many human beings, who, in event of an explosion, or a shot in the boiler, or of a heavy musketry fire on the banks, would have been converted into a great slaughter-house. One small boat hung from her stern, and although there were plenty of river flats and numerous steamers, even the horses belonging to the field-piece were crammed in among the men along the deck.

In my letter to Europe I made, at the time, some remarks by which the belligerents might have profited, and which at the time these pages are reproduced may strike them as possessing some value, illustrated as they have been by many events in the war. “A handful of horsemen would have been admirable to move in advance, feel the covers, and make prisoners for political or other purposes in case of flight; but the Americans persist in ignoring the use of horsemen, or at least in depreciating it, though they will at last find that they may shed much blood, and lose much more, before they can gain a victory without the aid of artillery and charges after the retreating enemy. From the want of cavalry, I suppose it is, the unmilitary practice of ‘scouting,’ as it is called here, has arisen. It is all very well in the days of Indian wars for footmen to creep about in the bushes, and shoot or be shot by sentries and pickets; but no civilized war recognizes such means of annoyance as firing upon sentinels, unless in case of an actual advance or feigned attack on the line. No camp can be safe without cavalry videttes and pickets; for the enemy can pour in impetuously after the alarm has been given, as fast as the outlying footmen can run in. In feeling the way for a column, cavalry are invaluable, and there can be little chance of ambuscades or surprises where they are judiciously employed; but ‘scouting’ on foot, or adventurous private expeditions on horseback, to have a look at the enemy, can do, and will do, nothing but harm. Every day the papers contain accounts of ‘scouts’ being killed, and sentries being picked off. The latter is a very barbarous and savage practice; and the Russian, in his most angry moments, abstained from it. If any officer wishes to obtain information as to his enemy, he has two ways of doing it. He can employ spies, who carry their lives in their hands, or he can beat up their quarters by a proper reconnoissance on his own responsibility, in which, however, it would be advisable not to trust his force to a railway train.”

At night there was a kind of émeute in camp. The day, as I have said, was excessively hot, and on returning to their tents and huts from evening parade the men found the contractor who supplies them with water had not filled the barrels; so they forced the sentries, broke barracks after hours, mobbed their officers, and streamed up to the hotel, which they surrounded, calling out, “Water, water,” in chorus. The General came out, and got up on a rail: “Gentlemen,” said he, “it is not my fault you are without water. It's your officers who are to blame; not me.” (“Groans for the Quartermaster,” from the men.) “If it is the fault of the contractor, I’ll see that he is punished. I’ll take steps at once to see that the matter is remedied. And now, gentlemen, I hope you'll go back to your quarters;” and the gentlemen took it into their heads very good-humoredly to obey the suggestion, fell in, and marched back two deep to their huts.

As the General was smoking his cigar before going to bed, I asked him why the officers had not more control over the men. “Well,” said he, “the officers are to blame for all this. The truth is, the term for which these volunteers enlisted is drawing to a close; and they have not as yet enrolled themselves in the United States army. They are merely volunteer regiments of the State of Illinois. If they were displeased with anything, therefore, they might refuse to enter the service or to take fresh engagements; and the officers would find themselves suddenly left without any men; they therefore curry favor with the privates, many of them, too, having an eye to the votes of the men when the elections of officers in the new regiments are to take place.”

The contractors have commenced plunder on a gigantic scale; and their influence with the authorities of the State is so powerful, there is little chance of punishing them. Besides, it is not considered expedient to deter contractors, by too scrupulous an exactitude, in coming forward at such a trying period; and the Quartermaster's department, which ought to be the most perfect, considering the number of persons connected with transport and carriage, is in a most disgraceful and inefficient condition. I told the General that one of the Southern leaders proposed to hang any contractor who was found out in cheating the men, and that the press cordially approved of the suggestion. “I am afraid” said he, “if any such proposal was carried out here, there would scarcely be a contractor left throughout the States.” Equal ignorance is shown by the medical authorities of the requirements of an army. There is not an ambulance or cacolet of any kind attached to this camp; and, as far as I could see, not even a litter was sent on board the steamer which has started with the expedition.

Although there has scarcely been a fought field or anything more serious than the miserable skirmishes of Shenck and Butler, the pressure of war has already told upon the people. The Cairo paper makes an urgent appeal to the authorities to relieve the distress and pauperism which the sudden interruption of trade has brought upon so many respectable citizens. And when I was at Memphis the other day, I observed a public notice in the journals, that the magistrates of the city would issue orders for money to families left in distress by the enrolment of the male members for military service. When General Scott, sorely against his will, was urged to make preparations for an armed invasion of the seceded States in case it became necessary, he said it would need some hundreds of thousands of men and many millions of money to effect that object. Mr. Seward, Mr. Chase, and Mr. Lincoln laughed pleasantly at this exaggeration, but they have begun to find by this time the old general was not quite so much in the wrong.

In reference to the discipline maintained in the camp, I must admit that proper precautions are used to prevent spies entering the lines. The sentries are posted closely and permit no one to go in without a pass in the day and a countersign at night. A conversation with General Prentiss in the front of the hotel was interrupted this evening by an Irishman, who ran past us towards the camp, hotly pursued by two policemen. The sentry on duty at the point of the lines close to us brought him up by the point of the bayonet. “Who goes tere?” “A friend, shure your honor; I'm a friend.” “Advance three paces and give the countersign.” “I don't know it, I tell you. Let me in, let me in.” But the German was resolute, and the policemen now coming up in hot pursuit, seized the culprit, who resisted violently, till General Prentiss rose from his chair and ordered the guard, who had turned out, to make a prisoner of the soldier and hand him over to the civil power, for which the man seemed to be most deeply grateful. As the policemen were walking him off, he exclaimed, “Be quiet wid ye, till I spake a word to the Giniral,” and then bowing and chuckling with drunken gravity, he said, “an’ indeed, Giniral, I'm much obleeged to ye altogither for this kindness. Long life to ye. We've got the better of that dirty German. Hoora' for Giniral Prentiss.” He preferred a chance of more whiskey in the police office and a light punishment to the work in camp and a heavy drill in the morning. An officer who was challenged by a sentry the other evening, asked him, “Do you know the countersign yourself?” “No, sir, it's not nine o'clock, and they have not given it out yet.” Another sentry stopped a man because he did not know the countersign. The fellow said, “I dare say you don't know it yourself.” “That's a lie,” he exclaimed; “it’s Plattsburgh.” “Pittsburgh it is, sure enough,” said the other, and walked on without further parley.

The Americans, Irish, and Germans, do not always coincide in the phonetic value of each letter in the passwords, and several difficulties have occurred in consequence. An incautious approach towards the posts at night is attended with risk; for the raw sentries are very quick on the trigger. More fatal and serious injuries have been inflicted on the Federals by themselves than by the enemy. “I declare to you, sir, the way the boys touched off their irons at me going home to my camp last night, was just like a running fight with the Ingins. I was a little ‘tight,’ and didn't mind it a cuss.”

SOURCE: William Howard Russell, My Diary North and South, Vol. 1, p. 341-5

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 2nd Lieutenant Luman Harris Tenney: September 10, 1863

We were notified of the surrender of the Gap and 2500 prisoners and 12 pieces of artillery. Encouraged. Had been talk that we were to storm the works. 32 pounders to be brought by Baptist Gap. Had some chopping before getting to the main road. Saw a good many Ohio boys on the other side. Oh such strong works as those at the Gap — natural fortifications. High bluffs on all sides. Plenty of water. Many rifle pits, and intrenchments. Batteries well planted. Glad we went round. Two N. Carolina regts. One Ga. One Tenn. 5 days' rations on hand. Gen. Frazier afraid boys wouldn't fight. Camped near Mr. Patterson's. Drake ate supper with me. Chose Buell and Barber to go home for conscripts.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 87-8

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

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

The same old story, only worse, worse. It seems all the time it was as bad as could be, but is not. They die now like sheep — fully a hundred each day. New prisoners come inside in squads of hundreds, and in a few weeks are all dead The change is too great and sudden for them. Old prisoners stand it the best. Found a Jackson, Michigan man, who says I am reported dead there. Am not, however, and may appear to them yet. Jimmy Devers is very bad with the scurvy and dropsy and will probably die if relief does not come. Sergt. Rowe also is afflicted; in fact all the mess except Battese He does all the cooking now. He has made me a cane to walk with, brings water from the well, and performs nearly all the manual labor for us. He is a jewel, but a rough one.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 71-2

Diary of Sergeant Major Luman Harris Tenney: July 10, 1863

Moved out at 4 A. M., our brigade in advance. Reached Corydon, 17 miles, before noon. Passed the barricade where the militia fought. Made of logs and rails, very good. Made little resistance, afraid of cannon. 350 taken prisoners. Many home guards went on with us. All the men, women, girls and children out to see us, water and grub. Did us all good to meet friends.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 78

Captain Charles Wright Wills: December 8, 1862

Provost Marshal's Office, 4th Division,

Army of the Tennessee, near Tallahatchie, Miss.,

December 8, 1862.

Still we tarry by the wayside anxiously awaiting the order to move forward. We did provide three days' rations once, but devoured them without leaving camp. Two divisions, McKean’s and Ross’, have left here, while the remainder of the army has pushed onward. We hear of the advance skirmishing 50 miles in front of us. Think the main force is at Oxford, about 25 miles from here. We're probably waiting for the railroad to be repaired so that supplies can be furnished us when we move. The retreating Rebels destroyed every culvert and bridge as they fell back, and it of course takes time to rebuild so many. The road is not yet in running order to Holly Springs, and everything has to be wagoned to the army, which but a very little rain in this country makes impossible. We suffered three days of cold, drizzling rain last week which most effectually blockaded the roads, but the last three days have been beautifully clear, etc., and travel is again resumed. We will change camp to-morrow to improve our water facilities, probably moving four or five miles back toward Holly Springs. One mile northward is harder to travel than 10 in the opposite direction. My whole company is detached from the regiment as provost guard. It relieves us from picket duty, fatigue, etc., gives us officers' quarters in a house (there are a sofa, two rocking chairs, soft-bottomed chairs, a library, feather bed, etc., in the room I am now writing in and occupy). I've soldiered long enough to never refuse these little good things Providence throws in my way. The detail is permanent, but suppose I can get back to my regiment when I feel disposed. The 7th Cavalry had a little skirmish in front a day or two since; Coe, and a number of others were taken prisoners. Nelson was a prisoner once, I hear, but was retaken by his men, or the 2d Illinois Cavalry. Rumor has it to-day, that our forces have possession of Jackson, Miss., and have captured 3,000 of General Holmes' Army, which was attempting to reinforce Pemberton. Don't think the rumor worth doubting, unless McClernand has got within striking distance. Can't hear a word from his expedition. Wonder what the deuce Banks is going to try to do. Hope we won't fool away his time and the lives of his men in Texas. We've had enough of those coast expeditions. The one under Butler was the only one that paid expenses. Burnside is beaten badly. Will bet that another change of base will be necessary before Richmond is ours. We're out of all patience with that army. We are slow enough in all reason, but they certainly beat us crawling, wonderfully, making slowness the gage. Our men are using this country awfully rough. Such animals as chickens, fences, swine, etc., are entirely unseeable and unfindable within 15 miles of where our camp has been this last week. This alone is not so bad; but if you wink at this amount of license in soldiers, they go farther and insult and almost scare to death women and children, all citizens indiscriminately. Guess that 'tis the intention of the general commanding to reform this matter. Says he is going to hold company officers responsible for the conduct of their men and punish officers, not soldiers, hereafter for outrages committed. I send my boys out as patrols, and whenever they catch a man with poultry or meat of any kind they relieve him thereof, take him under guard to his regimental commander, and Company G eats up the chickens or pork, or potatoes, of course; so you see this provost duty is not so bad as it might be on us. I have also in my charge 35 Rebel prisoners, Louisianians and North Carolinians. Price had three Kentucky regiments, but they have nearly all deserted him, hundreds have taken the oath at different points along our line and gone to their homes. I have an old negro here now that I wish I could send to you to cut the wood and do your errands. He is 63 years old, but is good for twenty years yet.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 133-4

1st Lieutenant Charles Wright Wills: June 19, 1862

Rienzi, Tishomingo Co., Miss., June 19, 1862.

This is one of the few days that remind one of Illinois, although there are very few nights that might not remind a Greenlander of his home. I think there has not been a night yet that I have not slept under three blankets, and there have been many nights that I would have used a dozen if I had had them. The natives say that ’tis the Gulf breeze that makes the air so cool after about 7 or 8 p. m. I wish that it would get along about eight hours earlier daily; but to-day there are clouds kiting about so o’erhead that the sun don't amount to much only for light, and ’tis cool enough to make underclothing comfortable. The colonel, A. D. C. and myself visited the camp of the 7th Illinois yesterday at Jacinto. We found them surrounded with a brush parapet, felled trees, etc., ready as they said for a twelve-hour's fight. They'd been visited by a scare. There is no enemy within 15 miles of them and hasn't been. They are camped in the suburbs of a beautiful little town that fell in among the hills in a very tasty manner (for a Mississippi town). In one little valley near a fine residence there are three springs bubbling up in line and within a foot of each other, which are so independent that each furnishes a different kind of water. The first pure, cold, soft water without taste, another chalybeate, and the third, strong sulphur. The waters of the three fall into one little basin and run thence into a bathhouse twenty steps distant. There is a neat vine covered arbor over the springs with seats arranged within, and altogether ’tis a neat little place — good to water Yankee horses at. There were several gangs of negroes at work in the corn and cotton fields along the road yesterday, and I thanked God they were not in Illinois. Candidly, I'd rather see them and a whole crop of grindstones dumped into the Gulf, than have so many of them in our State, as there are even here. Yet, it don't look square to see the women, if they are niggers, plowing. I have no reason for the last sentence, only it isn't in my opinion what petticoats were designed for. Talking about niggers, these headquarters are fully up with anything in that Potomac mob on the colored question. They got Jeff Davis' coachman. What of it? J. D. isn't anybody but a broken-backed-politician-of-a-civilian, and of course his coachman is no better than a white man. But we, we have, listen, General Beauregard's nigger “toddy mixer,” and my experience fully proves to the satisfaction of your brother that the general's taste in selecting a toddy artist is fine. He is a sharp cuss (the nigger). He left them at Tupelo day before yesterday, p. m., slipped by the pickets while ’twas light without their seeing him, but after dark he was suddenly halted by their videttes when within ten feet of them. He ran by them and they fired, but as usual missed. He is really the servant of Colonel Clough, of Memphis, but the colonel is now on Beauregard's staff, and John (the boy) was selected as drink mixer for the general-pro tem. He reports that Price started with the flower of the flock, only some 3,000 posies, to Virginia, but said posies, like their vegetable brethren, wilt and droop by the wayside, and unlike them, scoot off through the brush at every chance, and that is the last of them as far as soldiering is concerned. Hundreds of the dissatisfied Rebels pretended sickness and lay by the roadside until the army passed and then heeled it for home. All the prisoners and deserters that we get concur in saying that at least 10,000 have deserted since the evacuation. A couple of very fine-looking young fellows, Kentuckians, came in this p. m. Their regiment with two others are the outpost guard between the Rebel Army and ours. They were in a skirmish the other day at Baldwin, where two of our companies were surprised and lost six men, taken prisoners. There were 60 of our boys and they reported 400 Rebels. These deserters say there were only 42 Rebels; but the next day 700 Rebels came onto 75 of our men and the chivalry were put to flight in a perfect rout. So it goes. There was a flag of truce came in last night to our picket. Brought a dozen packages for Halleck and company, with a number of letters for Northern friends, all unsealed. Several of the envelopes were of common brown wrapping paper. There are a good many things about this advance of an army that are more interesting than the main army the infants know of. We cavalry feel as safe here as in Illinois, but General Ashboth keeps calling on Pope for more men all the time.

What do you think we'll have to eat to-morrow? Answer: Lamb, roast goose and liver (beef), blackberry pies, plum pudding, new peas, string beans, onions, beets, fresh apple sauce, etc. That's a fact, and we have a cow that furnishes us milk, too, and a coop full of chickens, maccaroni for our soup, and we get all the beef brains.

Tell Colonel Kellogg that the boys are talking about him yet, like a lot of chickens for their lost "Mar." The 7th has plenty to do now, if I wasn't so tired I'd write you a copy of the orders I sent them to-day.

The enemy keeps annoying our outposts, and rumors come to-day of their being on the way for this place to surprise us. All bosh, I suppose. I hope they are too gentlemanly to disturb us while we are doing as well as we are here. It would be worse than the old lady where I stayed night before last. I went to bed at 12:30, and about 5 she sent a servant up for the sheets to wash. The joke was on our family, but I told her that she had better let me roll over the whole house if she had to wash up after me, for it would improve the health of her family to scrub the premises and them. Fine people here. They’ve commenced bushwhacking. One of my orderlies was shot through the thigh night before last while carrying some dispatches. “Concilate,” “noble people,” “high spirited.” Oh! Strangulate is the better direction.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 105-8

1st Lieutenant Charles Wright Wills: June 16, 1862

Rienzi, Tishomingo Co., Miss., June 16, 1862.

We are camped here enjoying ourselves grandly. As our brigade is scattered over a line of 50 miles we just pitch our headquarters in the quietest spot we can find independent of the command. There are only two companies now out of the 24 within 8 miles of us, and all we have to do with any of them is to send them orders and receive their communications and forward them. In the heat of the day we read and lounge in our tents, and mornings we go to the creek and bathe and then ride a dozen or so miles to keep our horses exercised. I have a clerk, too, for my copying, etc., so I'm a gentleman. Evenings I visit generally some of the half dozen families within a half mile of us of whom I borrow books and in return furnish them with occasional papers. We have splendid water and my health is perfect. This is the healthiest part of the South.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 105