ONCE MORE SEE THE OLD FLAG AND THE BOYS IN BLUE—MR. KIMBALL
AND MRS. DICKINSON RECOMPENSED—FIND THE NINTH MICHIGAN
CAVALRY—INTERVIEWED BY GEN’L KILPATRICK—ALL RIGHT AT LAST.
Dec. 23.—It is not yet daylight in the morning, and are anxiously
awaiting the hour to arrive when we may go out to the road. Slept
hardly any during the night. More or less fighting all night,
and could hear an army go by toward Savannah, also some shouting
directly opposite us. Between the hours of about twelve and three
all was quiet, and then again more travel. We conjecture that the
rebel army has retreated or been driven back, and that the Yankees
are now passing along following them up. Shall go out about nine
o’clock. LATER.—Are eating breakfast before starting out to liberty
and safety. Must be very careful now and make no mistake. If we
run into a rebel squad now, might get shot. We are nervous, and so
anxious can hardly eat. Will pick up what we really need and start.
Perhaps good bye, little house on the banks of the Ogechee, we shall
always remember just how you look, and what a happy time we have
had on this little island. Dave says: “Pick up your blanket and
that skillet, and come along.” NIGHT.—Safe and sound among our own
United States Army troops, after an imprisonment of nearly fourteen
months. Will not attempt to describe my feelings now. Could not do
it. Staying with the 80th Ohio Infantry, and are pretty well tired
out from our exertions of the day. At nine o’clock we started out
toward the main road. When near it Eli and I stopped, and Dave went
ahead to see who was passing. We waited probably fifteen minutes, and
then heard Dave yell out: “Come on boys, all right! Hurry up!” Eli
and I had a stream to cross on a log. The stream was some fifteen
feet wide, and the log about two feet through. I tried to walk that
log and fell in my excitement. Verily believe if the water had been
a foot deeper I would have drowned. Was up to my arms, and I was
so excited that I liked never to have got out. Lost the axe, which
Dave had handed to me, and the old stand-by coverlid which had saved
my life time and again floated off down the stream, and I went off
without securing it—the more shame to me for it. Dave ran out of
the woods swinging his arms and yelling like mad, and pretty soon
Eli and myself appeared, whooping and yelling. The 80th Ohio was
just going by, or a portion of it, however, and when they saw first
one and then another and then the third coming toward them in rebel
dress, with clubs which they mistook for guns, they wheeled into
line, thinking, perhaps, that a whole regiment would appear next.
Dave finally explained by signs, and we approached and satisfied
them of our genuineness. Said we were hard looking soldiers, but
when we came to tell them where we had been and all the particulars,
they did not wonder. Went right along with them, and at noon had
plenty to eat. Are the guests of Co. I, 80th Ohio. At three the
80th had a skirmish, we staying back a mile with some wagons, and
this afternoon rode in a wagon. Only came about three or four miles
to-day, and are near Kimball’s, whom we shall call and see the first
opportunity. The soldiers all look well and feel well, and say the
whole confederacy is about cleaned out. Rebels fall back without
much fighting. Said there was not enough to call it a fight at the
bridge. Where we thought it a battle, they thought it nothing worth
speaking of. Believe ten or so were killed, and some wounded. Hear
that some Michigan cavalry is with Kilpatrick off on another road,
but they do not know whether it is the 9th Mich. Cav., or not. Say
they see the cavalry every day nearly, and I must keep watch for my
regiment. Soldiers forage on the plantations, and have the best of
food; chickens, ducks, sweet potatoes, etc. The supply wagons carry
nothing but hard-tack, coffee, sugar and such things. Tell you,
coffee is a luxury, and makes one feel almost drunk. Officers come to
interview us every five minutes, and we have talked ourselves most
to death to-day. They say we probably will not be called upon to do
any fighting during this war, as the thing is about settled. They
have heard of Andersonville, and from the accounts of the place did
not suppose that any lived at all. New York papers had pictures in,
of the scenes there, and if such was the case it seems funny that
measures were not taken to get us away from there. Many rebels are
captured now, and we look at them from a different stand point than a
short time since.
Dec. 24.—This diary must soon come to an end. Will fill the few
remaining pages and then stop. Co. “I” boys are very kind. They have
reduced soldiering to a science. All divided up into messes of from
three to five each. Any mess is glad to have us in with them, and
we pay them with accounts of our prison life. Know they think half
we tell them is lies. I regret the most of anything, the loss of
my blanket that stood by me so well. It’s a singular fact that the
first day of my imprisonment it came into my possession, and the
very last day it took its departure, floating off away from me after
having performed its mission. Should like to have taken it North
to exhibit to my friends. The infantry move only a few miles each
day, and I believe we stay here all day. Went and saw Mr. Kimball.
The officers commanding knew him for a Union man, and none of his
belongings were troubled. In fact, he has anything he wants now.
Announces his intention of going with the army until the war closes.
Our good old friend Mrs. Dickinson did not fare so well. The soldiers
took everything she had on the place fit to eat; all her cattle,
pork, potatoes, chickens, and left them entirely destitute. We went
and saw them, and will go to head-quarters to see what can be done.
LATER.—We went to Gen. Smith, commanding 3d Brigade, 2d Division,
and told him the particulars. He sent out foraging wagons, and now
she has potatoes, corn, bacon, cattle, mules, and everything she
wants. Also received pay for burned fences and other damages. Now
they are smiling and happy and declare the Yankees to be as good
as she thought them bad this morning. The men being under little
restraint on this raid were often destructive. Nearly every citizen
declared their loyalty, so no distinction is made. Gen. Smith is a
very kind man, and asked us a great many questions. Says the 9th
Michigan Cavalry is near us and we may see them any hour. Gen. Haun
also takes quite an interest in us, and was equally instrumental with
Gen. Smith in seeing justice done to our friends the Kimballs and
Dickinsons. They declare now that one of us must marry the daughter
of Mrs. Dickinson, the chaplain performing the ceremony. Well, she is
a good girl, and I should judge would make a good wife, but presume
she would have something to say herself and will not pop the question
to her. They are very grateful, and only afraid that after we all
go away the rebel citizens and soldiers will retaliate on them.
Many officers have read portions of my diary, and say such scenes
as we have passed through seem incredible. Many inquire if we saw
so and so of their friends who went to Andersonville, but of course
there were so many there that we cannot remember them. This has been
comparatively a day of rest for this portion of the Union army, after
having successfully crossed the river. We hear the cavalry is doing
some fighting on the right, in the direction of Fort McAllister.
EVENING.—We marched about two or three miles and are again encamped
for the night, with pickets out for miles around. Many refugees join
the army prepared to go along with them, among whom are a great many
negroes.
Dec. 25.—Christmas day and didn’t hang up my stocking. No matter, it
wouldn’t have held anything. Last Christmas we spent on Belle Island,
little thinking long imprisonment awaiting us. Us escaped men are to
ride in a forage wagon. The army is getting ready to move. Are now
twenty-four miles from Savannah and rebels falling back as we press
ahead. NIGHT.—At about nine o’clock this morning as we sat in the
forage wagon top of some corn riding in state, I saw some cavalry
coming from the front. Soon recognized Col. Acker at the head of the
9th Michigan Cavalry. Jumped out of the wagon and began dancing and
yelling in the middle of the road and in front of the troop. Col.
Acker said: “Get out of the road you —— lunatic!” Soon made myself
known and was like one arisen from the dead. Major Brockway said:
“Ransom, you want to start for home. We don’t know you, you are dead.
No such man as Ransom on the rolls for ten months.” All remember me
and are rejoiced to see me back again. Lieut. Col. Way, Surgeon,
Adjutant, Sergeant-Major, all shake hands with me. My company “A”
was in the rear of the column, and I stood by the road as they moved
along, hailing those I recognized. In every case had to tell them who
I was and then would go up and shake hands with them at the risk of
getting stepped on by the horses. Pretty soon Co. “A” appeared, and
wasn’t they surprised to see me. The whole company were raised in
Jackson, Mich., my home, and I had been regarded as dead for nearly a
year. Could hardly believe it was myself that appeared to them. Every
one trying to tell me the news at home all at the same time—how I
was reported as having died in Richmond and funeral sermon preached.
How so and so had been shot and killed, &c., &c. And then I had to
tell them of who of our regiment had died in Andersonville—Dr. Lewis,
Tom McGill and others. Although Jimmy Devers did not belong to our
regiment, many in our company knew him, and I told them of his death.
Should have said that as soon as I got to the company, was given
Capt. Johnson’s lead horse to ride, without saddle or bridle and
nothing but a halter to hang on with. Not being used to riding, in
rebel dress—two or three pails hanging to me—I made a spectacle for
them all to laugh at. It was a time of rejoicing. The Buck boys did
not get out of the wagon with me and so we became separated without
even a good bye. Before I had been with the company half an hour Gen.
Kilpatrick and staff came riding by from the rear, and says to Capt.
Johnson: “Captain, I hear one of your company has just joined you
after escaping from the enemy.” Capt. Johnson said, “Yes, sir,” and
pointed to me as a Sergeant in his company. General Kilpatrick told
me to follow him and started ahead at a break neck pace. Inasmuch as
the highway was filled with troops, Gen. Kilpatrick and staff rode
at the side, through the fields, and any way they could get over the
ground. The horse I was on is a pacer and a very hard riding animal
and it was all I could do to hang on. Horse would jump over logs
and come down an all fours ker-chug, and I kept hoping the general
would stop pretty soon; but he didn’t. Having no saddle or anything
to guide the brute, it was a terrible hard ride for me, and time and
again if I had thought I could fall off without breaking my neck
should have done so. The soldiers all along the line laughed and
hooted at the spectacle and the staff had great sport, which was
anything but sport for me. After a while and after riding five or
six miles, Kilpatrick drew up in a grove by the side of the road and
motioning me to him, asked me when I escaped, etc. Soon saw I was too
tired and out of breath. After resting a few minutes I proceeded to
tell him what I knew of Savannah, the line of forts around the city,
and of other fortifications between us and the city, the location
of the rivers, force of rebels, etc. Asked a great many questions
and took down notes, or rather the chief of staff, Estes by name,
did. After an extended conversation a dispatch was made up and sent
to Gen. Sherman who was a few miles away, with the endorsement that
an escaped prisoner had given the information and it was reliable.
General Kilpatrick told me I would probably not be called upon to
do any more duty as I had done good service as a prisoner of war.
Said he would sign a furlough and recommend that I go home as soon as
communication was opened. Thanked me for information and dismissed me
with congratulations on my escape. Then I waited until our company,
“A,” came up and joined them, and here I am encamped with the boys,
who are engaged in getting supper. We are only twelve or fourteen
miles from Savannah and the report in camp is to the effect that
the city has been evacuated with no fight at all. Fort McAllister
was taken to-day, which being the key to Savannah, leaves that city
unprotected, hence the evacuation. Communication will now be opened
with the gunboats on the coast and I will be sent home to Michigan. I
mess with Capt. Johnson and there is peace and plenty among us. I go
around from mess to mess this pleasant night talking with the boys,
learning and telling the news. O. B. Driscoll, Al. Williams, Sergt.
Smith, Mell Strickland, Sergt. Fletcher, Teddy Fox, Lieut. Ingraham
and all the rest think of something new every few minutes, and I am
full. Poor Robt. Strickland, a boy whom I enlisted, was shot since
starting out on this march to the sea. Others too, whom I left well
are now no more. The boys have had a long and tedious march, yet are
all in good health and have enjoyed the trip. They never tire of
telling about their fights and skirmishes, and anecdotes concerning
Kilpatrick, who is well liked by all the soldiers. Am invited to eat
with every mess in the company, also at regimental head-quarters,
in fact, anywhere I am a mind to, can fill. And now this Diary is
finished and is full. Shall not write any more, though I hardly know
how I shall get along, without a self-imposed task of some kind.