Remarkable handwritten narrative memoir by Francis C. Curtis, Co. E, Massachusetts 1st Heavy Artillery, 21 pages, 8 x 10, tracing his movements from May 1864 through July 1865. Curtis mustered in as a private on August 9, 1862, captured at Petersburg in June 22, 1864, confined at Andersonville Prison in Georgia, and released in April 1865. He describes engagements with Ewell's Corps ("the heaviest firing of musketry I heard while in service"), the Battle of Totopotomoy Creek ("heavy artillery fire all day"), and his capture at Petersburg ("Mahone's Brigade came in on our rear and left, and captured us—It was said they took 1700 prisoners"). En route to Andersonville, Curtis writes: "Our canteens, shelter tents, haversacks, knapsacks, rubber & woolen blankets and all the greenbacks they could find taken from us…we should have taken to the woods, had we known what was before us, but we were told we should be exchanged."
He continues: "July 11…Reached Andersonville at 11 A.M. In the prison pen 1 PM. What a terrible place: how can we live here, but we both say, with God's help we will live in spite of the Rebels. We went nearly the whole length of the pen before we could find a place big enough for 3 to lie down together. John, myself and a man named Myers. Six of our men were hung yesterday in the pen, for robbing and killing some of their comrades. What horrible sights I see; men with only a little shirt, or nothing but drawers, and nothing on their heads, some so used up with scurvy their feet and limbs were cracked open. Many had sores full of maggots, many blind, some crazy—some not able to walk…About 35,000 men here now, half starved, sick and dying without food or shelter…This was Andersonville, on the last day of July 1864 with 100 deaths a day."
Curtis goes on to discuss his scant clothing, poor meals, and miserable conditions surrounding him. In October, the Confederate authorities feared a Union attempt to liberate Andersonville and had the prisoners evacuated. While on the move, they dealt with harsh weather conditions: "The first of November we had a cold rain for three days and nights. We had to sit up with our backs against a tree, and our rubber blanket over us. Our clothes were old and thin and we had little to eat, so we suffered much for two nights, and in the mornings the dead men lay all about us." He mentions an interesting political matter: "Election day came and the Rebs wanted we should vote for President. We had quite an exciting time. They told us if McLellan was elected we should be sent home and the war ended. But, with that inducement, we voted 3 to 1 for Abraham Lincoln."
Curtis found himself returned to Andersonville just in time for Christmas: "Dec. 25. Christmas Day, and we are in this terrible place, where we are lying in mud and rain. What a Sunday this is. May we never see the like again." Dealing with lice, fleas, and poor rations, Curtis is forced to sell his last coat button for a plate of mush: "I had my dress coat yet but had sold all the buttons except the top ones. I wanted to keep that to hold my coat together. The guard were very anxious to get our buttons. The last of January one day we had drawn no rations and a man came around carrying a plate of mush which he offered for a brass button. I cut off the button and got the mush." His health deteriorated to the point where he could barely eat, but was saved by a fellow prisoner who was willing to barter with the guards for eggs: "I would like to see that man who saved my life—he had a face like a bull-dog, but he was an angel to me."
Weighing a mere 75 pounds, Curtis was placed in the Andersonville Hospital and had barely settled in when "one night we heard the car whistles blowing and great shouting and general confusion in the direction of the prison. When we got up in the morning the gates were open and we could go where we pleased. Our first thought, was for something to eat, so we started for the rebel camp and found any amount of rations as the soldiers had started for home. We could see them running their artillery down into the swamps, and going every direction with their knapsacks on their backs. We knew that the end had come and the war was over." In overall fine condition. Accompanied by a 13-page typescript recounting his return trip to Andersonville in 1901, where he dedicated a monument to the memory of the soldiers who died there.
