View allAll Photos Tagged separator
Red Wolf Global moves High Pressure Separator to Rayong
See: redwolfglobal.com/red-wolf-global-moves-high-pressure-sep...
Contact: Projects.Thailand@RedWolfGlobal.com
Red Wolf Global transported an High Pressure Separator from Thailand's main port, Laem Chabang, in Chonburi to the eastern Thailand province of Rayong.
The shipment traveled from Hamburg, Germany’s largest port, which took approximately 30 days to reach Thailand.
The HP Separator a 67 tons is a separation device that is used in the cement industry for grinding systems equipped with tube mills, roller mills and high pressure grinding rolls.
Once the HP Separator arrived at the Laem Chabang port, two 120 mt cranes were used to lift off the 67 tons HP separator and positioning on the low bed six axle truck trailer.
Due to the weight of the cargo, police permission for required for the road transport. The Red Wolf Global team this permission as well as a police escort for the 75 km trip from Laem Chabang port to Rayong province. The Red Wolf Global Thailand team had located a special truck trailer due to the cargo weight.
Once the HP Separator arrived at the destination, our team used two 120 mt cranes to lift off the HP Separator and position it to its new home at the TPI Polene company in Rayong province.
#RedWolfGlobal #RWGTH #RWGBKK #Thailand #LaemChabang #ประเทศไทย #แหลมฉบัง #projectcargo #projectlogistics #XLProjects #ProjectCargoNexus #AiOLogistics #Rayong
The Magnetic Disc Separator in action separating individual minerals in a beach sands deposit #minerals #mineralprocessing
In our #blog, we review the project www.mastermagnets.com/magnetic-disc-separator-processes-b...
I think this is where the kernels are separated from the cobs. There are plenty of cats around to intercept any hungry rodents.
roast chicken with BBQ sauce and sweet potato. See large potato in harvest shot. Fat separator for the drippings.
17.7.18
Flyover / overbridge project work in progress
grade separator
Foundation stone laid in February 2014 by Chief Minister Minister Manohar Parrikar. Work started Feb 2014 and was expected to finish by December 2014 (both projects/separator by June 2016).
Cost 33.49 crores. Awarded for 41.80cr
575+485m length (2 separators before and after the airport, same road)
To ease total traffic movement towards Dabolim airport from Verna side and Vasco side. Also, to prevent present traffic congestion near traffic signal in front of airport. GSIDC
Contractor: M Venkata Rao Infra Projects Private Ltd
Finally, Inaugurated on 26.5.20 by CM Sawant, Mauvin, Alina etc
www.alibaba.com/product-detail/Poultry-cow-pig-chicken-du...
whatsapp/wechat:008615737157856
Screw press manure solid liquid separator dewatering machine is a kind of dehydrator of livestock and poultry manure. It can separate the raw water from pig manure, duck dung, cow dung and chicken manure into liquid organic manure and solid organic fertilizer.
A magnetic separator ideal for removing metal from dry granular materials including foodstuffs and plastics. For more information go to www.magneticseparation.co/magnet_separators/drawer_magnet...
Construction of a pair of hydrodynamic separator units on the northwestern portion of the Columbia Golf Course.
Found this really cool cream separator in an anquite mall. Paid $37.oo for it. The parts move. No, there's no bell on it ;) Not quite 1/6 scale maybe 1/8 scale, but to cool to pass up! I can't read the praint to see the maker's name. I have a real separator, an IH.
Producer Adrian Hawks. To cut inputs, he and son Cory engineered a seed cleaner/separator. System cleans 700 to 800 bushels of wheat per hour and will allow the producers the opportunity for more intercropping. Hawks property, Liberty County, MT. June 2021
Red Wolf Global moves High Pressure Separator to Rayong
See: redwolfglobal.com/red-wolf-global-moves-high-pressure-sep...
Contact: Projects.Thailand@RedWolfGlobal.com
Red Wolf Global transported an High Pressure Separator from Thailand's main port, Laem Chabang, in Chonburi to the eastern Thailand province of Rayong.
The shipment traveled from Hamburg, Germany’s largest port, which took approximately 30 days to reach Thailand.
The HP Separator a 67 tons is a separation device that is used in the cement industry for grinding systems equipped with tube mills, roller mills and high pressure grinding rolls.
Once the HP Separator arrived at the Laem Chabang port, two 120 mt cranes were used to lift off the 67 tons HP separator and positioning on the low bed six axle truck trailer.
Due to the weight of the cargo, police permission for required for the road transport. The Red Wolf Global team this permission as well as a police escort for the 75 km trip from Laem Chabang port to Rayong province. The Red Wolf Global Thailand team had located a special truck trailer due to the cargo weight.
Once the HP Separator arrived at the destination, our team used two 120 mt cranes to lift off the HP Separator and position it to its new home at the TPI Polene company in Rayong province.
#RedWolfGlobal #RWGTH #RWGBKK #Thailand #LaemChabang #ประเทศไทย #แหลมฉบัง #projectcargo #projectlogistics #XLProjects #ProjectCargoNexus #AiOLogistics #Rayong
ROTEX® MINERALS SEPARATORS™ were specifically designed to meet the demanding screening requirements of minerals applications. The Minerals Separator provides unsurpassed screening performance when sharp separations and high efficiencies are required. The Minerals Separator is able to maximize product recoveries at material temperatures up to 400° F (205°C). Standard features include a patented cam lift rail system for quick screen change capability and sleeveless inlet/outlet connections.
Construction of a pair of hydrodynamic separator units on the northwestern portion of the Columbia Golf Course.
Improve Engine Performance and Keep Oil Where its NEEDED!
Killer B is a company who specializes in aftermarket performance parts for Subaru vehicles. They have recently confirmed fitments for their oil / air separator kits for the 2008-2017 Subaru WRX and STI. Once the sound tube is removed...
www.vividracing.com/blog/announcing-new-products-specials...
Found this really cool cream separator in an anquite mall. Paid $37.oo for it. The parts move. No, there's no bell on it ;) Not quite 1/6 scale maybe 1/8 scale, but to cool to pass up! I can't read the praint to see the maker's name. I have a real separator, an IH.
A Pulley #Magnet in action removing a large steel spanner, a large nut & lump of ferrous metal from conveyed shredded #plasticwaste #recycling - For more details go to www.buntingeurope.com/magnetic-separation/magnetic-separa...
Turquoise nuggets with white Indian millefiore discs with light blue opaque (large) and white-lined (small) seed beads as separators.
Fuar hazırlıkları... Preparing for exhibition...
#molino #makine #machinery #makina #değirmen #flour #milling #öğütme #değirmencilik #grinding #granulation #wheat #buğday #arpa #barley #manufacturing #producing #üretmek #imalat #work #roller #mill #blower #separator #vibroseparator #vibro #sifting #vals #roots #pump
www.alibaba.com/product-detail/Poultry-cow-pig-chicken-du...
whatsapp/wechat:008615737157856
Screw press manure solid liquid separator dewatering machine is a kind of dehydrator of livestock and poultry manure. It can separate the raw water from pig manure, duck dung, cow dung and chicken manure into liquid organic manure and solid organic fertilizer.
The Vibratory material spreader is a revolutionary vibratory separator designed for larger accuracy and efficient screening.
✔️Check out our new video and see in action how our vibratory separator handles product separation and is an ideal solution for your industry.
Watch the full video here: youtu.be/bqViyRv0X1g
To know more about our product range visit:
#jkmagnetics #manufacturer #vibratorymotor #vibratoryseparator #vibratorymaterialspreader
17.7.18
Flyover / overbridge project work in progress
grade separator
Foundation stone laid in February 2014 by Chief Minister Minister Manohar Parrikar. Work started Feb 2014 and was expected to finish by December 2014 (both projects/separator by June 2016).
Cost 33.49 crores. Awarded for 41.80cr
575+485m length (2 separators before and after the airport, same road)
To ease total traffic movement towards Dabolim airport from Verna side and Vasco side. Also, to prevent present traffic congestion near traffic signal in front of airport. GSIDC
Contractor: M Venkata Rao Infra Projects Private Ltd
Finally, Inaugurated on 26.5.20 by CM Sawant, Mauvin, Alina etc
John L. Ransom.
[From a photograph taken three months after escape.]
Andersonville Diary of John L. Ransom
Andersonville Diary,
ESCAPE,
——AND——
LIST OF THE DEAD,
——WITH——
Name, Co., Regiment, Date of Death
——AND——
No. of Grave in Cemetery.
decorative separator
JOHN L. RANSOM,
LATE FIRST SERGEANT NINTH MICH. CAV.,
AUTHOR AND PUBLISHER.
AUBURN, N. Y.
1881.
“Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1881, by
John L. Ransom, in the office of the Librarian of
Congress, at Washington.”
[80]
July 9.—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.
[81]
July 10.—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 stupenduous an undertaking. Only those who are here will ever know what Andersonville is.
AN ACCOUNT OF THE HANGING.
July 11.—This morning lumber was brought into the prison by the rebels, and near the gate a gallows erected for the purpose of[82] executing the six condemned Yankees. At about ten o’clock they were brought inside by Capt. Wirtz and some guards, and delivered over to the police force. Capt. Wirtz then said a few words about their having been tried by our own men and for us to do as we choose with them, that he washed his hands of the whole matter, or words to that effect. I could not catch the exact language, being some little distance away. I have learned by enquiry, their names, which are as follows: John Sarsfield, 144th New York; William Collins, alias “Moseby,” Co. D, 88th Pennsylvania; Charles Curtiss, Battery A, 5th Rhode Island Artillery; Pat Delaney, Co. E, 83d Pennsylvania; A. Munn, U. S. Navy, and W. R. Rickson of the U. S. Navy. After Wirtz made his speech he withdrew his guards, leaving the condemned at the mercy of 28,000 enraged prisoners who had all been more or less wronged by these men. Their hands were tied behind them, and one by one they mounted the scaffold. Curtiss, who was last, a big stout fellow, managed to get his hands loose and broke away and ran through the crowd and down toward the swamp. It was yelled out that he had a knife in his hand, and so a path was made for him. He reached the swamp and plunged in, trying to get over on the other side, presumably among his friends. It being very warm he over exerted himself, and when in the middle or thereabouts, collapsed and could go no farther. The police started after him, waded in and helped him out. He pleaded for water and it was given him. Then led back to the scaffold and helped to mount up. All were given a chance to talk. Munn, a good looking fellow in marine dress, said he came into the prison four months before perfectly honest, and as innocent of crime as any fellow in it. Starvation, with evil companions, had made him what he was. He spoke of his mother and sisters in New York, that he cared nothing as far as he himself was concerned, but the news that would be carried home to his people made him want to curse God he had ever been born. Delaney said he would rather be hung than live here as the most of them lived, on their allowance of rations. If allowed to steal could get enough to eat, but as that was stopped had rather hang. Bid all good bye. Said his name was not Delaney and that no one knew who he really was, therefore his friends would never know his fate, his Andersonville history dying with him. Curtiss said he didn’t care a ——, only hurry up and not be talking about it all day; making too much fuss over a very small matter. William Collins, alias Moseby, said he was innocent of murder and[83] ought not to be hung; he had stolen blankets and rations to preserve his own life, and begged the crowd not to see him hung as he had a wife and child at home, and for their sake to let him live. The excited crowd began to be impatient for the “show” to commence as they termed it. Sarsfield made quite a speech; he had studied for a lawyer; at the outbreak of the rebellion he had enlisted and served three years in the army, been wounded in battle, furloughed home, wound healed up, promoted to first sergeant and also commissioned; his commission as a lieutenant had arrived but had not been mustered in when he was taken prisoner; began by stealing parts of rations, gradually becoming hardened as he became familiar with the crimes practiced; evil associates had helped him to go down hill and here he was. The other did not care to say anything. While the men were talking they were interrupted by all kinds of questions and charges made by the crowd, such as “don’t lay it on too thick, you villain,” “get ready to jump off,” “cut it short,” “you was the cause of so and so’s death,” “less talk and more hanging,” &c., &c. At about eleven o’clock they were all blindfolded, hands and feet tied, told to get ready, nooses adjusted and the plank knocked from under. Moseby’s rope broke and he fell to the ground, with blood spurting from his ears, mouth and nose. As they was lifting him back to the swinging off place he revived and begged for his life, but no use, was soon dangling with the rest, and died very hard. Munn died easily, as also did Delaney, all the rest died hard and particularly Sarsfield who drew his knees nearly to his chin and then straightened them out with a jerk, the veins in his neck swelling out as if they would burst. It was an awful sight to see, still a necessity. Moseby, although he said he had never killed any one, and I don’t believe he ever did deliberately kill a man, such as stabbing or pounding a victim to death, yet he has walked up to a poor sick prisoner on a cold night and robbed him of blanket, or perhaps his rations and if necessary using all the force necessary to do it. These things were the same as life to the sick man, for he would invariably die. The result has been that many have died from his robbing propensities. It was right that he should hang, and he did hang most beautifully and Andersonville is the better off for it. None of the rest denied that they had killed men, and probably some had murdered dozens. It has been a good lesson; there are still bad ones in camp but we have the strong arm of the law to keep them in check. All during the hanging scene the stockade was covered[84] with rebels, who were fearful a break would be made if the raiders should try and rescue them. Many citizens too were congregated on the outside in favorable positions for seeing. Artillery was pointed at us from all directions ready to blow us all into eternity in short order; Wirtz stood on a high platform in plain sight of the execution and says we are a hard crowd to kill our own men. After hanging for half an hour or so the six bodies were taken down and carried outside. In noting down the speeches made by the condemned men, have used my own language; in substance it is the same as told by them. I occupied a near position to the hanging and saw it all from first to last, and stood there until they were taken down and carried away. Was a strange sight to see and the first hanging I ever witnessed. The raiders had many friends who crowded around and denounced the whole affair and but for the police there would have been a riot; many both for and against the execution were knocked down. Some will talk and get into trouble thereby; as long as it does no good there is no use in loud talk and exciting arguments; is dangerous to advance any argument, men are so ready to quarrel. Have got back to my quarters thoroughly prostrated and worn out with fatigue and excitement, and only hope that to-day’s lesson will right matters as regards raiding. Battese suspended washing long enough to look on and see them hang and grunted his approval. Have omitted to say that the good Catholic priest attended the condemned. Rebel negroes came inside and began to take down the scaffold; prisoners took hold to help them and resulted in its all being carried off to different parts of the prison to be used for kindling wood, and the rebels get none of it back and are mad. The ropes even have been gobbled up, and I suppose sometime may be exhibited at the north as mementoes of to-day’s proceedings. Mike Hoare assisted at the hanging. Some fears are entertained that those who officiated will get killed by the friends of those hanged. The person who manipulated the “drop,” has been taken outside on parole of honor, as his life would be in danger in here. Jimmy thanks God that he has lived to see justice done the raiders; he is about gone—nothing but skin and bone and can hardly move hand or foot; rest of the mess moderately well. The extra rations derived from our three mess-mates as policemen, helps wonderfully to prolong life. Once in a while some of them gets a chance to go outside on some duty and buy onions or sweet potatoes which is a great luxury.
[85]
July 12.—Good order has prevailed since the hanging. The men have settled right down to the business of living, with no interruption. I keep thinking our situation can get no worse, but it does get worse every day and not less than one hundred and sixty die each twenty-four hours. Probably one-fourth or one-third of these die inside the stockade, the balance in the hospital outside. All day and up to four o’clock p. m., the dead are being gathered up and carried to the south gate and placed in a row inside the dead line. As the bodies are stripped of their clothing in most cases as soon as the breath leaves, and in some cases before, the row of dead presents a sickening appearance. Legs drawn up and in all shapes. They are black from pitch pine smoke and laying in the sun. Some of them lay there for twenty hours or more, and by that time are in a horrible condition. At four o’clock a four or six mule wagon comes up to the gate and twenty or thirty bodies are loaded on to the wagon and they are carted off to be put in trenches, one hundred in each trench, in the cemetery, which is eighty or a hundred rods away. There must necessarily be a great many whose names are not taken. It is the orders to attach the name, company and regiment to each body, but it is not always done. I was invited to-day to dig in a tunnel, but had to decline. My digging days are over. Must dig now to keep out of the ground, I guess. It is with difficulty now that I can walk, and only with the help of two canes.
July 13.—Can see in the distance the cars go poking along by this station, with wheezing old engines, snorting along. As soon as night comes a great many are blind, caused by sleeping in the open air, with moon shining in the face. Many holes are dug and excavations made in camp. Near our quarters is a well about five or six feet deep, and the poor blind fellows fall into this pit hole. None seriously hurt, but must be quite shaken up. Half of the prisoners have no settled place for sleeping, wander and lay down wherever they can find room. Have two small gold rings on my finger, worn ever since I left home. Have also a small photograph album with eight photographs in. Relics of civilization. Should I get these things through to our lines they will have quite a history. When I am among the rebels I wind a rag around my finger to cover up the rings, or else take them and put in my pocket. Bad off as I have been, have never seen the time yet that I would part with them. Were presents to me, and the photographs have looked at about one-fourth of the time since imprisonment. One prisoner[86] made some buttons here for his little boy at home, and gave them to me to deliver, as he was about to die. Have them sewed on to my pants for safe keeping.
July 14.—We have been too busy with the raiders of late to manufacture any exchange news, and now all hands are at work trying to see who can tell the biggest yarns. The weak are feeling well to-night over the story that we are all to be sent North this month, before the 20th. Have not learned that the news came from any reliable source. Rumors of midsummer battles with Union troops victorious. It’s “bite dog, bite bear,” with most of us prisoners; we don’t care which licks, what we want is to get out of this pen. Of course, we all care and want our side to win, but it’s tough on patriotism. A court is now held every day and offenders punished, principally by buck and gagging, for misdemeanors. The hanging has done worlds of good, still there is much stealing going on yet, but in a sly way, not openly. Hold my own as regards health. The dreaded month of July is half gone, almost, and a good many over one hundred and fifty die each day, but I do not know how many. Hardly any one cares enough about it to help me any in my inquiries. It is all self with the most of them. A guard by accident shot himself. Have often said they didn’t know enough to hold a gun. Bury a rebel guard every few days within sight of the prison. Saw some women in the distance. Quite a sight. Are feeling quite jolly to-night since the sun went down. Was visited by my new acquaintances of the 9th Michigan Infantry, who are comparatively new prisoners. Am learning them the way to live here. They are very hopeful fellows and declare the war will be over this coming fall, and tell their reasons very well for thinking so. We gird up our loins and decide that we will try to live it through. Rowe, although often given to despondency, is feeling good and cheerful. There are some noble fellows here. A man shows exactly what he is in Andersonville. No occasion to be any different from what you really are. Very often see a great big fellow in size, in reality a baby in action, actually sniveling and crying, and then again you will see some little runt, “not bigger than a pint of cider,” tell the big fellow to “brace up” and be a man. Stature has nothing to do as regards nerve, still there are noble big fellows as well as noble little ones. A Sergt. Hill is judge and jury now, and dispenses justice to evil doers with impartiality. A farce is made of defending some of the arrested ones. Hill inquires all of the particulars of each case, and sometimes lets the offenders go[87] as more sinned against than sinning. Four receiving punishment.
July 15.—Blank cartridges were this morning fired over the camp by the artillery, and immediately the greatest commotion outside. It seems that the signal in case a break is made, is cannon firing. And this was to show us how quick they could rally and get into shape. In less time than it takes for me to write it, all were at their posts and in condition to open up and kill nine-tenths of all here. Sweltering hot. Dying off one hundred and fifty-five each day. There are twenty-eight thousand confined here now.
July 16.—Well, who ever supposed that it could be any hotter; but to-day is more so than yesterday, and yesterday more than the day before. My coverlid has been rained on so much and burned in the sun, first one and then the other, that it is getting the worse for wear. It was originally a very nice one, and home made. Sun goes right through it now, and reaches down for us. Just like a bake oven. The rabbit mules that draw in the rations look as if they didn’t get much more to eat than we do. Driven with one rope line, and harness patched up with ropes, strings, &c. Fit representation of the Confederacy. Not much like U. S. Army teams. A joke on the rebel adjutant has happened. Some one broke into the shanty and tied the two or three sleeping there, and carried off all the goods. Tennessee Bill, (a fellow captured with me) had charge of the affair, and is in disgrace with the adjutant on account of it. Every one is glad of the robbery. Probably there was not ten dollars worth of things in there, but they asked outrageous prices for everything. Adjt. very mad, but no good. Is a small, sputtering sort of fellow.
July 17.—Cords contracting in my legs and very difficult for me to walk—after going a little ways have to stop and rest and am faint. Am urged by some to go to the hospital but don’t like to do it; mess say had better stay where I am, and Battese says shall not go, and that settles it. Jimmy Devers anxious to be taken to the hospital but is pursuaded to give it up. Tom McGill, another Irish friend, is past all recovery; is in another part of the prison. Many old prisoners are dropping off now this fearful hot weather; knew that July and August would thin us out; cannot keep track of them in my disabled condition. A fellow named Hubbard with whom I have conversed a good deal, is dead; a few days ago was in very good health, and its only a question of a few days now with any of us. Succeeded in getting four small onions about as large as hickory nuts, tops and all for two dollars Confederate money.[88] Battese furnished the money but won’t eat an onion; ask him if he is afraid it will make his breath smell? It is said that two or three onions or a sweet potato eaten raw daily will cure the scurvy. What a shame that such things are denied us, being so plenty the world over. Never appreciated such things before but shall hereafter. Am talking as if I expected to get home again. I do.
July 18.—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.
July 19.—There is no such thing as delicacy here. Nine out of ten would as soon eat with a corpse for a table as any other way. In the middle of last night I was awakened by being kicked by a dying man. He was soon dead. In his struggles he had floundered clear into our bed. Got up and moved the body off a few feet, and again went to sleep to dream of the hideous sights. I can never get used to it as some do. Often wake most scared to death, and shuddering from head to foot. Almost dread to go to sleep on this account. I am getting worse and worse, and prison ditto.
July 20.—Am troubled with poor sight together with scurvy and dropsy. My teeth are all loose and it is with difficulty I can eat.[89] Jimmy Devers was taken out to die to-day. I hear that McGill is also dead. John McGuire died last night, both were Jackson men and old acquaintances. Mike Hoare is still policeman and is sorry for me. Does what he can. And so we have seen the last of Jimmy. A prisoner of war one year and eighteen days. Struggled hard to live through it, if ever any one did. Ever since I can remember have known him. John Maguire also, I have always known. Everybody in Jackson, Mich., will remember him, as living on the east side of the river near the wintergreen patch, and his father before him. They were one of the first families who settled that country. His people are well to do, with much property. Leaves a wife and one boy. Tom McGill is also a Jackson boy and a member of my own company. Thus you will see that three of my acquaintances died the same day, for Jimmy cannot live until night I don’t think. Not a person in the world but would have thought either one of them would kill me a dozen times enduring hardships. Pretty hard to tell about such things. Small squad of poor deluded Yanks turned inside with us, captured at Petersburg. It is said they talk of winning recent battles. Battese has traded for an old watch and Mike will try to procure vegetables for it from the guard. That is what will save us if anything.
July 21.—And rebels are still fortifying. Battese has his hands full. Takes care of me like a father. Hear that Kilpatrick is making a raid for this place. Troops (rebel) are arriving here by every train to defend it. Nothing but corn bread issued now and I cannot eat it any more.
July 22.—A petition is gotten up signed by all the sergeants in the prison, to be sent to Washington, D. C., begging to be released. Capt. Wirtz has consented to let three representatives go for that purpose. Rough that it should be necessary for us to beg to be protected by our government.
July 23.—Reports of an exchange in August. Can’t stand it till that time. Will soon go up the spout.
July 24.—Have been trying to get into the hospital, but Battese won’t let me go. Geo. W. Hutchins, brother of Charlie Hutchins of Jackson, Mich., died to-day—from our mess. Jimmy Devers is dead.
July 25.—Rowe getting very bad. Sanders ditto. Am myself much worse, and cannot walk, and with difficulty stand up. Legs drawn up like a triangle, mouth in terrible shape, and dropsy worse than all. A few more days. At my earnest solicitation was carried[90] to the gate this morning, to be admitted to the hospital. Lay in the sun for some hours to be examined, and finally my turn came and I tried to stand up, but was so excited I fainted away. When I came to myself I lay along with the row of dead on the outside. Raised up and asked a rebel for a drink of water, and he said: “Here, you Yank, if you ain’t dead, get inside there!” And with his help was put inside again. Told a man to go to our mess and tell them to come to the gate, and pretty soon Battese and Sanders came and carried me back to our quarters; and here I am, completely played out. Battese flying around to buy me something good to eat. Can’t write much more. Exchange rumors.
July 26.—Ain’t dead yet. Actually laugh when I think of the rebel who thought if I wasn’t dead I had better get inside. Can’t walk a step now. Shall try for the hospital no more. Had an onion.
July 27.—Sweltering hot. No worse than yesterday. Said that two hundred die now each day. Rowe very bad and Sanders getting so. Swan dead, Gordon dead, Jack Withers dead, Scotty dead, a large Irishman who has been near us a long time is dead. These and scores of others died yesterday and day before. Hub Dakin came to see me and brought an onion. He is just able to crawl around himself.
July 28.—Taken a step forward toward the trenches since yesterday, and am worse. Had a wash all over this morning. Battese took me to the creek; carries me without any trouble.
July 29.—Alive and kicking. Drank some soured water made from meal and water.
July 30.—Hang on well, and no worse.
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MOVED JUST IN TIME.
REMOVED FROM ANDERSONVILLE TO THE MARINE HOSPITAL, SAVANNAH—GETTING THROUGH THE GATE—BATTESE HAS SAVED US—VERY SICK BUT BY NO MEANS DEAD YET—BETTER AND HUMANE TREATMENT.
Aug. 1.—Just about the same. My Indian friend says: “We all get away.”
Aug. 2.—Two hundred and twenty die each day. No more news of exchange.
Aug. 3.—Had some good soup, and feel better. All is done for me that can be done by my friends. Rowe and Sanders in almost as bad a condition as myself. Just about where I was two or three weeks ago. Seem to have come down all at once. August goes for them.
Aug. 4.—Storm threatened. Will cool the atmosphere. Hard work to write.
Aug. 5.—Severe storm. Could die in two hours if I wanted to, but don’t.
Aug. 12.—Warm. Warm. Warm. If I only had some shade to lay in, and a glass of lemonade.
Aug. 13.—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.
Aug. 14.—Battese very hopeful, as exchange rumors are afloat. Talks more about it than ever before.
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Aug. 15.—The water is a God-send. Sanders better and Rowe worse.
Aug. 16.—Still in the land of the living. Capt. Wirtz is sick and a Lieut. Davis acting in his stead.
Aug. 17.—Hanging on yet. A good many more than two hundred and twenty-five die now in twenty-four hours. Messes that have stopped near us are all dead.
Aug. 18.—Exchange rumors.
Aug. 19.—Am still hoping for relief. Water is bracing some up, myself with others. Does not hurt us.
Aug. 20.—Some say three hundred now die each day. No more new men coming. Reported that Wirtz is dead.
Aug. 21.—Sleep nearly all the time except when too hot to do so.
Aug. 22—Exchange rumors.
Aug. 23.—Terribly hot.
Aug. 24.—Had some soup. Not particularly worse, but Rowe is, and Sanders also.
Aug. 25.—In my exuberance of joy must write a few lines. Received a letter from my brother, George W. Ransom, from Hilton Head.[A] Contained only a few words.
[A]My brother supposed me dead, as I had been so reported; still, thinking it might not be so, every week or so he would write a letter and direct to me as a prisoner of war. This letter, very strangely, reached its destination.
Aug. 26.—Still am writing. The letter from my brother has done good and cheered me up. Eye sight very poor and writing tires me. Battese sticks by; such disinterested friendship is rare. Prison at its worst.
Aug. 27.—Have now written nearly through three large books, and still at it. The diary am confident will reach my people if I don’t. There are many here who are interested and will see that it goes north.
Aug. 28.—No news and no worse; set up part of the time. Dying off a third faster than ever before.
Aug. 29.—Exchange rumors afloat. Any kind of a change would help me.
Aug. 30.—Am in no pain whatever, and no worse.
Aug. 31.—Still waiting for something to turn up. My Indian friend says: “good news yet.” Night.—The camp is full of exchange rumors.
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Sept 1.—Sanders taken outside to butcher cattle. Is sick but goes all the same. Mike sick and no longer a policeman. Still rumors of exchange.
Sept. 2.—Just about the same; rumors afloat does me good. Am the most hopeful chap on record.
Sept. 3.—Trade off my rations for some little luxury and manage to get up quite a soup. Later.—Sanders sent in to us a quite large piece of fresh beef and a little salt; another God-send.
Sept. 4.—Anything good to eat lifts me right up, and the beef soup has done it.
Sept. 4.—The beef critter is a noble animal. Very decided exchange rumors.
Sept. 5.—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.
Sept. 6.—Hurrah! Hurrah!! Hurrah!!! Can’t holler except on paper. Good news. Seven detachments ordered to be ready to go at a moment’s notice. Later.—All who cannot walk must stay behind. If left behind shall die in twenty-four hours. Battese says I shall go. Later.—Seven detachments are going out of the gate; all the sick are left behind. Ours is the tenth detachment and will go to-morrow so said. The greatest excitement; men wild with joy. Am worried fearful that I cannot go, but Battese says I shall.
Sept. 7.—Anxiously waiting the expected summons. Rebels say as soon as transportation comes, and so a car whistle is music to our ears. Hope is a good medicine and am sitting up and have been trying to stand up but can’t do it; legs too crooked and with every attempt get faint. Men laugh at the idea of my going, as the rebels are very particular not to let any sick go, still Battese say I am going. Most Dark.—Rebels say we go during the night when transportation comes. Battese grinned when this news come and can’t get his face straightened out again.
Marine Hospital, Savannah, Ga., Sept. 15, 1864.—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[94] 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[95] 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 bunks 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 tent mates 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.
Sept. 16.—How I do sleep; am tired out, and seems to me I can just sleep till doomsday.
Sept. 17.—Four in each tent. A nurse raises me up, sitting posture, and there I stay for hours, dozing and talking away. Whiskey given us in very small quantities, probably half a teaspoonful in half a glass of something, I don’t know what. Actually makes me drunk. I am in no pain whatever.
Sept. 18.—Surgeon examined me very thoroughly to-day. Have some bad sores caused by laying down so much; put something on them that makes them ache. Sergt. Winn gave me a pair of socks.
Sept. 19.—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.
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Sept. 20.—Too cool for me. The priest said he would come and see me often. Good man. My left hand got bruised in some way and rebel done it up. He is afraid gangrene will get in sore. Mike Hoare is quite sick.
Sept. 21.—Don’t feel as well as I did some days ago. Can’t eat; still can use my limbs and arms more.
Sept. 22.—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.
Sept. 23.—Shall write any way; have to watch nurses and rebels or will lose my diary. Vinegar reduced I drink and it is good; crave after acids and salt. Mouth appears to be actually sorer than ever before, but whether it is worse or not can’t say. Sergt. Winn says the Doctor says that I must be very careful if I want to get well. How in the old Harry can I be careful? They are the ones that had better be careful and give me the right medicine and food. Gruel made out of a dish cloth to eat.
Sept 24.—Arrowroot soup or whatever you may call it; don’t like it; makes me sick. Priest spoke to me. Cross and peevish and they say that is a sure sign will get well. Ain’t sure but shall be a Catholic yet. Every little while get out the old diary from under the blanket and write a sentence. Never was made to be sick—too uneasy. This will do for to-day.
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HOSPITAL LIFE.
A GRADUAL IMPROVEMENT IN HEALTH—GOOD TREATMENT WHICH IS OPPORTUNE—PARTING WITH RELICS TO BUY LUXURIES—DALY, THE TEAMSTER AT ANDERSONVILLE, KILLED—A VISIT FROM BATTESE THE INDIAN, ETC., ETC.
Sept. 25—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.
Sept. 26—Am really getting better and hopeful. Battese has the two first books of my diary; would like to see him. Was mistaken about Rowe being in the hospital; he is not, but I hear is in the big stockade with bulk of prisoners. Say we were removed from Andersonville for the reason that our troops were moving that way. Well, thank heaven they moved that way. Mike Hoare, the irrepressible Irishman, is hobbling around and in our tent about half the time; is also getting well. Quite a number die here not having the constitution to rally. This is the first hospital I was ever[98] in. My old coverlid was washed and fumigated the first day in hospital. Am given very little to eat five or six times a day; washed with real soap, an improvement on sand. Half a dozen rebel doctors prowling around, occasionally one that needs dressing down, but as a general thing are very kind. Can see from my bunk a large live oak tree which is a curiosity to me. Although it is hot weather the evenings are cool, in fact cold; ocean breezes. A discussion on the subject has set me down as weighing about ninety-five; I think about one hundred and five or ten pounds; weighed when captured one hundred and seventy-eight; boarding with the confederacy does not agree with me. The swelling about my body has all left me. Sergt. Winn belongs to the 100th Ohio; he has charge of a ward in this hospital.
Sept. 27.—Getting so I can eat a little and like the gruel. Have prided myself all during the imprisonment on keeping a stiff upper lip while I saw big strong men crying like children; cruelty and privations would never make me cry—always so mad, but now it is different and weaken a little sometimes all to myself. Land, my sick comrade, writes at my dictation.
Sept 28.—Sent word to Battese by a convalescent who is being sent to the large prison, that I am getting well. Would like to see him. Am feeling better. Good many union men in Savannah. Three hundred sick here, with all kinds of diseases—gangrene, dropsy, scurvy, typhoid and other fevers, diarrhea, &c. Good care taken of me. Have medicine often, and gruel. Land does the writing.
Sept. 29.—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.
Sept. 30.—Am decidedly better and getting quite an appetite but[99] 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.
Oct. 1.—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.
Oct. 2.—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[100] 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.
Oct 3.—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. Gnaw 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.
Oct. 4.—Am now living splendid; vegetable diet is driving off the scurvy and dropsy, in fact the dropsy has dropped out but the effect remains. Set up now part of the time and talk like a runaway horse until tired out and then collapse. Heard that all the prisoners are going to be sent to Millen, Ga. Wrote a few lines directed to my father in Michigan. Am now given more food but not much at a time. Two poor fellows in our tent do not get along as well as I do, although Land is doing well and is going to be a nurse. The hospital is not guarded very close and Mike Hoare cannot resist the temptation to escape. Well, joy go with him. Dosed with quinine and beastly to take. Battese on his last visit to me left the two first books of my diary which he had in his possession. There is no doubt but he has saved my life, although he will take no credit for it. It is said all were moved from Andersonville to different points; ten thousand went to Florence, ten thousand to Charleston and ten thousand to Savannah; but the dead stay there and will for all time to come. What a terrible place and what a narrow escape I had of it. Seems to me that fifteen thousand died while I was there; an army almost and as many men as inhabit a city of fifty thousand population.
Oct. 5.—All in Andersonville will remember Daly, who used to drive the bread wagon into that place. He came to Savannah with us and was in this hospital; a few days ago he went away with[101] some sailors to be exchanged. Soon after leaving Savannah he fell off the cars and was killed, and a few hours after leaving here was brought back and buried; it is said he had been drinking. Getting better every day, eat right smart. Mike waiting for a favorable chance to escape and in the meantime is getting well; heard that Battese has gone away with sailors to our lines. Its wonderful the noticeable change of air here from that at Andersonville—wonder that any lived a month inhaling the poison. If some of those good fellows that died there, Jimmy Devers, Dr. Lewis, Swain, McGuire and scores of others, had lived through it to go home with me, should feel better. Have a disagreeable task to perform—that of going to see the relatives of fifteen or twenty who died and deliver messages. Rebel surgeons act as if the war was most over, and not like very bad enemies. Fresh beef issued to those able to eat it which is not me; can chew nothing hard, in fact cannot chew at all. Am all tired out and will stop for to-day.
Oct. 7.—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.
Oct. 8.—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 confed. 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[102] 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.”
Oct. 9.—The reason we have not been exchanged is because if the exchange is made it will put all the men held by the union forces right into the rebel army, while the union prisoners of war held by the rebels are in no condition to do service; that would seem to me to be a very poor reason. Rowe and Bullock are in the main prison I hear, and well; it is one of the miracles that Bullock lived as he was ailing all through Andersonville. Brass buttons with hens on (eagles) are eagerly sought after by the guards. Mike still harping on escape, but I attend right to the business of getting enough to eat. Although can’t eat much have the appetite all the same. The rebel M. D., by name Pendleton, or some such name, says if I am not careful will have a relapse, and is rather inclined to scold; says I get along all together too fast, and tells the nurse and Mike and Land, that I must not eat but little at a time and then only such food as he may direct, and if I don’t do as he says, will put me in the main building away from my friends. Says it is suicide the way some act after a long imprisonment. Well, suppose he is right and I must go slow. Names of yankee officers marked on the tents that have occupied them as prisoner of war before us.
Oct. 10.—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[103] 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; coverlid 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.
Oct. 12.—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.
Oct. 14.—Did not write any yesterday. A man named Hinton died in our tent at about two o’clock this morning, and his bunk is already filled by another sick man. None die through neglect here; all is done that could reasonably be expected. The pants with those buttons on to be taken North for a little boy whose father died in Andersonville, were taken away from me when first taken to the hospital. Have also lost nearly all the relics, pictures and letters given me to take North. For a week or ten days could take care of nothing. Winn took charge of the book that I am writing in now and Battese had the other two books, and now they are all[104] together safe in my charge. Wonder if any one will ever have the patience or time to read it all? Not less than a thousand pages of finely written crow tracks, and some places blurred and unintelligable from being wet and damp. As I set up in my bunk my legs are just fitted for hanging down over the side, and have not been straightened for three or four months. Rub the cords with an ointment furnished me by physician and can see a change for the better. Legs are blue, red and shiny and in some places the skin seems calloused to the bone.
Oct. 15.—Richard is getting to be himself again. A very little satisfies me as regards the upward tendency to health and liberty. Some would think to look at me almost helpless and a prisoner of war, that I hadn’t much to feel glad about. Well, let them go through what I have and then see. Citizens look on me with pity when I should be congratulated. Am probably the happiest mortal any where hereabouts. Shall appreciate life, health and enough to eat hereafter. Am anxious for only one thing, and that is to get news home to Michigan of my safety. Have no doubt but I am given up for dead, as I heard I was so reported. Drizzling rain has set in. Birds chipper from among the trees. Hear bells ring about the city of Savannah. Very different from the city of Richmond; there it was all noise and bustle and clatter, every man for himself and the devil take the hindmost, while here it is quiet and pleasant and nice. Every one talks and treats you with courtesy and kindness. Don’t seem as if they could both be cities of the Confederacy. Savannah has probably seen as little of real war or the consequence of war, as any city in the South.
Oct. 18.—Every day since last writing I have continued to improve, and no end to my appetite. Now walk a trifle with the aid of crutches. Coming cool, and agrees with me, have fresh beef issued to us. Mike not yet gone. Battese went some days ago with others to our lines, at least it was supposed to our lines. Hope to see him sometime. Many have gangrene. Millen still talked of. See city papers every day, and they have a discouraged tone as if their cause were on its last legs. Mike goes to-night for sure, he says. Think if I was in his place would not try to get away, we are so comfortable here. Still liberty is everything, and none know what it is except those deprived of it. It’s a duty, we think, to escape if possible, and it seems possible to get away from here. Rebel guards that I sometimes come in contact with are marines who belong to rebel gunboats stationed in the mouth of Savannah[105] River and are on duty here for a change from boat life. They seem a kindly set, and I don’t believe they would shoot a prisoner if they saw him trying to get away.
Oct. 19.—Last night I talked with a guard while Mike Hoare went out of his tunnel and got away safely from the hospital. The guard was on the inside and I hobbled to where he was and engaged him in conversation and Mike crawled away. It seems that Mike learned of some union Irish citizens in the city and his idea is to reach them which he may do, as there are scarcely any troops about the city, all being to the front. Now I am alone, best friends all gone one way or the other. The only acquaintances here now are Land and Sergt. Winn, with whom I became acquainted in Andersonville. Not like my other friends though. It is said there are half a dozen hospitals similar to this in Savannah which are filled with Andersonville wrecks. They have need to do something to redeem themselves from past conduct. Don’t believe that it is the Confederacy that is taking such good care of us, but it is the city of Savannah; that is about the way it is as near as I can find out.
Oct. 22.—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.
Oct. 24.—Did not write yesterday. Jumping right along toward health if not wealth. Discarded crutches and have now two canes. Get around considerable, a little at a time. It is said that they want Yankee printers who are prisoners of war to go and work in the printing offices in the city on parole of honor(?). Will not do it. Am all right where I am for a month yet, and by that time[106] expect to go to our lines. Hub Dakin in hospital now. Priests still come and go. Convalescent shot and wounded by the guards, the first I have heard of being hurt since I came to this place. A small-pox case discovered in hospital and created great excitement. Was removed. Was loitering near the gate, when an Irish woman came through it with her arms full of wheat bread. All those able to rushed up to get some of it and forty hands were pleading for her favors. After picking her men and giving away half a dozen loaves her eyes lighted on me and I secured a large loaf. She was a jolly, good natured woman, and it is said that she keeps a bake shop. My bad looks stood me in well this time. As beautiful bread as I ever saw.
Oct. 25.—Am feeling splendid and legs doing nobly, and even taking on fat. Am to be a gallant nurse as soon as able, so Sergt. Winn says. Most of the men as soon as convalescent are sent to big prison, but Winn has spoken a good word for me. Papers say the prison at Millen, Ga., is about ready for occupancy, and soon all will be sent there, sick and all. Nights cool and need more covering than we have. I am congratulated occasionally by prisoners who saw me in Andersonville. They wonder at my being alive. Rains.
Oct. 26.—Time passes now fast; most a year since captured. When the Rebs once get hold of a fellow they hang on for dear life. Talk that all are to be vaccinated any way, whether they want to or not. Don’t suppose it will do any harm if good matter is used. Vaccinate me if they want to. Walk better every day. Sometimes I overdo a little and feel bad in consequence. Land is “right smart,” in fact, so smart that he will have to go to the big stockade pretty soon.
Oct. 27.—A rebel physician (not a regular one), told me that it looked very dark for the Confederacy just now; that we need have no fears but we would get home very soon now, which is grand good news. I have no fears now but all will turn out well. Everything points to a not far away ending of the war, and all will rejoice, rebels and all.
Oct. 28.—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[107] 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.
Oct. 29.—I suppose we must be moved again, from all reports. Savannah is threatened by Union troops, and we are to be sent to Millen, Ga. Am sorry, for while I remain a prisoner would like to stay here, am getting along so nicely and recovering my health. It is said, however, that Millen is a good place to go to, and we will have to take the consequences whatever they may be. Can eat now anything I can get hold of, provided it can be cooked up and made into the shape of soup. Mouth will not admit of hard food. This hospital is not far from the Savannah jail, and when the gate is open we can see it. It is said that some one was hung there not long ago. Papers referred to it and I asked a guard and he nodded “Yes.” Have seen one “hanging bee,” and never want to see another one. Last of my thr