Feb. 29.—Excitement among the Johnnies—flying around as if the Yankee army were threatening Richmond. Cannot learn what the commotion is, but hope it is something that will benefit us. Later: The occasion of the excitement among the rebels is that Dahlgreen is making a raid on Richmond, acting in conjunction with Kilpatrick, for the purpose of liberating prisoners. We are heavily guarded and not allowed to look out of the windows, nevertheless we manage to see about all there is going on.
Feb. 30.—Rebels in hot water all night and considerably agitated. Imagined we could hear firing during the night. This morning small squads of tired out union soldiers marched by our prison under guard, evidently captured through the night. Look as if they was completely played out. Go straggling by sometimes not more than half a dozen at a time. Would give something to hear the news. We are all excitement here. Negroes also go by in squads sometimes of hundreds in charge of overseers, and singing their quaint negro melodies. It is supposed by us that the negroes work on the fortifications, and are moved from one part of the city to another, for that purpose. Our troops have evidently been repulsed with considerable loss. We hear that Dahlgreen has been shot and killed. At the very first intimation that our troops were anywhere near, the prisoners would have made a break.
March 1.—Working along towards Spring slowly. A dead calm after the raid scare. We much prefer the open air imprisonment to confinement. Have considerable trouble with the thieves which disgrace the name of union soldier. Are the most contemptible rascals in existence. Often walk up to a man and coolly take his food and proceed to eat it before the owner. If the victim resists then a fight is the consequence, and the poor man not only loses his food but gets licked as well.
March 2.—The food we get here is poor, water very good, weather outside admirable, vermin still under control and the “Astor House Mess” flourishing. We are all in good health with the exception of Dr. Lewis, who is ailing. I was never tougher—seems as if your humble servant was proof against the hardest rebel treatment. No exchange news. Trade and dicker with the guards and work ourselves into many luxuries, or rather work the luxuries into ourselves. Have become quite interested in a young soldier boy from Ohio named Bill Havens. Is sick with some kind of fever and is thoroughly bad off. Was tenderly brought up and well educated I should judge. Says he ran away from home to become a drummer. Has been wounded twice, in numerous engagements, now a prisoner of war and sick. Will try and keep track of him. Every nationality is here represented and from every branch of the service, and from all parts of the world. There are smart men here and those that are not so smart, in fact a conglomeration of humanity—hash, as it were.
March 3.—The ham given us to-day was rotten, with those nameless little white things crawling around through it. Promptly threw it out of the window and was scolded for it by a fellow prisoner who wanted it himself. Shall never become hungry enough to eat poor meat. Guards careless with their guns. An old man shot in the arm. Hendryx tried to pull a brick out of the casing to throw at the shooter. Barbarians these rebs.
March 4.—And now we are getting ready to move somewhere, the Lord only knows where. One good thing about their old prisons, we are always ready for a change. Have made many new acquaintances while here in Pemberton, and some agreeable ones; my boy Havens has fever and chills. Is rather better to-day. It is said we move to-night. Minnesota Indians confined here, and a number of sailors and marines. I am quite a hand to look at men, sometimes for hours, and study them over, then get to talking with them and see how near I was right in my conjectures. Its almost as good as reading books. The Astor House Mess is now composed of but four members, E. P. Sanders, F. L. Lewis, Geo. W. Hendryx and myself; we still adhere to our sanitary regulations and as a consequence are in better health than a majority of those here. Sanders may be said to be at the head of the mess, (we call him Dad,) while Lewis is a sort of moderator and advisor, with Hendryx and myself as the rank and file. Are quite attached to one another, and don’t believe that either one would steal from the other. I certainly wouldn’t take anything short of pumpkin pie or something of that sort. Of course a man would steal pie, at least we all say so, and Lewis even declares he would steal dough cakes and pancakes such as his wife used to make. We are all well dressed, thanks to the Sanitary Commission and our own ingenuity in getting what was intended for us to have. False alarm of fire.
Routed at Midnight.
On the Cars, March 7, 1864.—We were roused from our gentle slumbers during the night, counted off and marched to the cars, loaded into them, which had evidently just had some cattle as occupants. Started southward to some portion of Georgia, as a guard told us. Passed through Petersburg, and other towns which I could not learn the names of. Cars run very slow, and being crowded, we are very uncomfortable—and hungry. Before leaving Richmond hard-tack was issued to us in good quantity for the Confederacy. Have not much chance to write. Bought some boiled sweet potatoes of the guard, which are boss. The country we pass through is a miserable one. Guards watch us close to see that none escape, and occasionally a Yank is shot, but not in our car. Seems as if we did not run over thirty or forty miles per day. Stop for hours on side tracks, waiting for other trains to pass us.
March 8.—Were unloaded last night and given a chance to straighten our limbs. Stayed all night in the woods, side of the track, under a heavy guard. Don’t know where we are, as guards are very reticent.