From The New-York Times November 26, 1865:
THE ANDERSONVILLE PRISON.; A Careful and Accurate Survey of the Place. Nature and Condition of the Surrounding Country.The Military Arrangements for the Care of Prisoners. Fearful Revelations of the Character of Their Treatment.Irresistible Evidence of Inhuman Treatment, Done by Order.A Repulsive Chapter that History Must Record. …
ANDERSONVILLE STOCKADE, GEORGIA, Tuesday, Oct. 31, 1865.
While we are merciful, we should not forget to be just. We must pour oil upon the troubled waters, and ointment on the yet suppurating wounds of the late wicked rebellion, but in our zeal to prosper as a body politic and get rich individually, we must not shut our eyes to the palpable, cogent lessons taught us by bitter experience. History must be impartially written, and to be honest, let us call things by their right names, and “nothing extenuate nor aught set down in malice.” From the lips of our fathers and mothers we were not taught to forget the sufferings of our soldiers at Valley Forge or on the British prison-ships. They told us the simple truth — conscience must decide thereafter. Of all the blood, bravery, patience, horror and death of this terrible war, nothing stands out in bolder relief, corroborative of “man’s inhumanity to man,” than the true history of Andersonville.
Innumerable have been the “eye-witness” accounts, explanations, counter-explanations, reports and histories of this noted spot. Much of what has been said concerning it, like “foreign correspondence” of unscrupulous journals, which is written in a rear sanctum, comes from hearsay. Having spent several days laboriously, accumulating facts and figures, I have arrived at as near an approximation to “the true state of the case” as one well can. Now that the Wirz trial has attracted the attention of the whole civilized world to Andersonville, its actual character and history should be preserved intact. … [full report]
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rheumatism antidote
From The Wit and Humor of America, Volume IV.
COMIN’ HOME THANKSGIVIN’
I’ve clean fergot my rheumatiz–
Hain’t nary limp n’r hobble;
I’m feelin’ like a turkey-cock–
An’ ready ‘most to gobble;
I’m workin’ spry, an’ steppin’ high–
An’ thinkin’ life worth livin’.
Fer all the children’s comin’ home
All comin’ home Thanksgivin’.
There’s Mary up at Darby Town,
An’ Sally down at Goshen,
An’ Billy out at Kirkersville,
An’ Jim–who has a notion
That Hackleyburg’s the very place
Fer which his soul has striven;
They’re all a-comin’ home ag’in–
All comin’ home Thanksgivin’.
Yes–yes! They’re all a-comin’ back;
There ain’t no ifs n’r maybes.
The boys’ll fetch the’r wives an’ kids;
The gals, th’r men an’ babies.
The ol’ place will be upside-down;
An’ me an’ Mammy driven
To roost out in the locus’ trees–
When they come home Thanksgivin’.
Fer Mary she has three ‘r four
Mis_chee_vous little tykes, sir,
An’ Sally has a houseful more–
You never seen the like, sir;
While Jim has six, an’ Billy eight–
They’ll tear the house to flinders,
An’ dig the cellar out in chunks
An’ pitch it through the winders.
The gals ‘ll tag me to the barn;
An’ climb the mows, an’ waller
All over ev’ry ton o’ hay–
An’ laugh an’ scream an’ holler.
The boys ‘ll git in this an’ that;
An’ git a lickin’–p’r’aps, sir–
Jest like the’r daddies used to git
When _they_ was little chaps, sir.
But–lawzee-me!–w’y, I won’t care.
I’m jest so glad they’re comin’,
I have to whistle to the tune
That my ol’ heart’s a-hummin’.
An’ me an’ Mammy–well, we think
It’s good to be a-livin’,
Sence all the children’s comin’ home
To spend the day Thanksgivin’.