John G. B. Adams, Reminiscences of the Nineteenth Massachusetts Regiment

We halted at night in a grove near a large mansion. We were hungry and footsore, having eaten nothing that day, and having marched thirty miles. The lieutenant commanding the guard went to the house and demanded supper for seventy men. The old man said he had nothing, that Sherman's army had stripped him of all he had. “Never mind the story,” said the guard, “bring out the grub.” After declaring over and over again that he had nothing, the officer said, “we will see,” and sent a sergeant and some men into the house. The old man changed his tune a little, said he would try to find something, and after a short time brought out a bag of meal, some sweet potatoes and a side of bacon. All shared alike, the prisoners receiving the same as the guard. The night was as cold as any December night in the north, and the guard drew on the old man for a good supply of wood. Unlike our army, they did not go after it but ordered it brought to them. They built several large fires, and then posted guards for the night.

We were in a small space and there were only seven men on posts. I believed there was a chance to make a break if we could only make the men understand it. Frank and I formed our plans and began to work them. I had lain down by the side of two prisoners and got them interested, then stood up, warmed myself, and was sauntering over to the third, when one of the guards cocked his piece, and said, “Yank, you get up on that stump; I don't like to see you moving about so much.” I tried to explain that I was so cold that I could not sleep and must move to keep warm, but he replied, “I think I shall feel better to see you on that ”