Recent Find Relics From A Confederate Parole Camp "Ammo"

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Here are some of the bullet that I found in one sections of the Confederate parole camp here. The CS troops didn't receive new weapons until early 1864 and then they got a Hodge Podge of different weapons as you can see. The Enfields and round balls were the prevalent ones found but as you can see there are a lot of different types.
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Most troops got 30 days leave and started piling in here in Sept. The Missouri troops couldn't go home so they got here in early August. One of the diaries I have is from a Missouri trooper tells of the trip from Vicksburg. They were able to take a train part ways. It really didn't get up and running till the end of Sept. They spent the winter where they did R&R and reorganized. Most left in March 1864 to join the CS Army in North Georgia.

CHAPTER 15 - Demopolis -​

July 6th, 1863. We received our paroles yesterday, and today we marched out, but were haulted at our outer line, which was our only line of breastworks, and every one searched for contraband of war, which consisted of medicine, and musket caps. Quinine was the principle medecine, they did not want us to have. This looks unmerciful, and extremely wicked, to take the medecine away from a sick man, that he may die, or that his wife and children, at home may die for the want of it. I stood by and saw twenty-five or thirty, infantry men searched, the guard went through their knapsacks and every little bundle they had, but they found no contraband on them. When we battery boys presented ourselves, the guard noticed that we had nothing but our blankets, and haversacks and we were told to pass on. So much time was lost by searching the men that we did not get far today.

July 7th. Weather warm and dry, and roads dusty. We crossed Pearl river the water was clear as crystal, it was not over two feet deep, and we all enjoyed wading it. Gen. Pemberton and a few of his staff, crossed at the time I was crossing, some one cryed out, "Boys there goes the traitor", he gave a quick side glance in the direction of the voice, but continued his course. It was boldly stated by our Missouri soldiers and I presume by others, shortly after we were forced into Vicksburg, or ordered there, that Pemberton was a traitor, because he would not let our batteries fire on the enemy when they came up and commenced building breastworks. He gave as his reason, that the ammunition was scarse, and we must husband it. My battery boys and Lieut. Murphy also bitterly condemned the order, but I am not prepared to say that he was a traitor, though I condemned the order also, as that was the only time we had to damage the enemy. But the final result, would have been the same.

July 8th. I plodded my way along the dusty road, water to drink is scarse, and I turned aside to a house near the roadside today to get a drink from a well, many soldiers were drawing and filling their canteens, but as I came up the woman was complaining about the men drawing all the water out of her well. The men left, much dissatisfied. In a few minutes a crowd of Louisiana soldiers rushed for the well, and some officers that were in the house, took the bucket off and carried it into the house. This act made the brave Louisiana boys furriously mad, and part of them rushed to a rail fence close by, got an armful of rails and filled the well to the top. This act was pretty hard on the woman, but these men were in no humor to stand such treatment.

Late this evening I fell in with a young man named Walter Kirkpatrick of New Madrid, Mo. He was a member of Co. No.2, 1st Mo. Reg., I found him a congenial companion. We camped for the night close to a nice looking cottage, and after getting some good dry wood, and making a fire to warm up some bread, and to make some boiled Yankee coffee in an oyster can, while making these preperations, an old negro came up and we chatted with him awhile, and made a bargain with him to go home, kill a fat hen, have his wife cook it and bring it to us, with a corn cake for supper. He promised to have the goods ready wihin three hours, so we stopped our preperations, and walked up to the cottage to pass the time until our supper arrived. We found a doctor and his wife, with out any children living there, they were nice people, of middle age. They had a hand organ, and the good wife was proud of it, and seemed determined that we should enjoy it, as she wound the little fellow up a few times too many, for our musical ear. Well about nine o'clock, having enjoyed ourselves, we bid them good night and repared to our camping place, started a bright fire, spread our blankets, and lay down to await the coming of our baked hen, for which we had bargained to pay 50 cts, in Confederate money. We had not long to wait, as supper was on time, and the fowl was nicely seasoned and cooked, with plenty of rich highly seasoned gravy and good bread. It was one of those suppers that a Confederate soldier never forgets. Of course we had some evil thought as to the real owner of the hen, but would not judge, so we kept the commandment. Walter Kirkpatrick, is a fine looking, beardless young man, about twenty years old, blue eyes, dark hair, fair complexion, 5 ft, 10 inch high, weighs about 150 lbs, with a soft gentle voice, and manners, and the soul of truth and honor, and loves God.

When we arrived at the RR station near Brandon, Miss. there was a train awaiting to take us MO. troops to our selected parole camp, at Demapolis, Ala. And there was near by on a side track, a car load of the largest water-mellons I ever saw. The owner had the door ajar just enough for him to fill the opening, and for us soldiers to see dozens of his five dollar mellons, as that was his price. We had but little money, the majority had none, yet we felt like we must have the mellons as it had been more than two years since we had tasted one. Notwithstnding the command "Thou shalt not covet," that desire seemed to be getting the control of the crowd, as it grew larger. I knew that something was going to happen, and in a few minutes some one had gotten a crow-bar and prized open the door on the opposite side, and the mellons were expropriated as fast as it was possible to do so, until all was gone, and such a mellon feast no mortal man had ever seen before. As the price of property is controled by the amount of money in circulation, the owner concluded to take what he could get, so when the men got abord the train for Demopolis, the mellon man also went aboard, and went from one end of the train to the other, asking every man that helped to eat his mellons, to please, give him something, as he had bought the mellons on a credit from his neighbors, and he was now in a bad fix. He acted wisely, by coming at us in that way, it made us ashamed of our meanness and cowardly conduct. Every one that partook of that uninvited mellon feast, made some reparation, none gave less than one dollar, some as much as three, and considering that many of the mellons, were as much as four men could eat, he was well paid after all.

We landed at Demopolis July 12th, 1863, and were all happy to know that we had escaped prison life, by surrendering on July 4th.
 
A very informative article.
This is one of 5 diaries I have and it is over 300 pages. He was a teacher so that is why he did all the writing. Here is one of my favorite entries.

Oct. 20th. Our guns are here. Four beautiful ten pound, Napoleon bronze they are the latest, and best make, light therefore will be easily handled in battle, and easy to haul on bad roads. Our brigade boys, are around with their new endfield rifles, the best mussel loading infantry gun in America. The boys know how to use them, and when they have it to do, the result will be deadly.
 
This is one of 5 diaries I have and it is over 300 pages. He was a teacher so that is why he did all the writing. Here is one of my favorite entries.

Oct. 20th. Our guns are here. Four beautiful ten pound, Napoleon bronze they are the latest, and best make, light therefore will be easily handled in battle, and easy to haul on bad roads. Our brigade boys, are around with their new endfield rifles, the best mussel loading infantry gun in America. The boys know how to use them, and when they have it to do, the result will be deadly.
Nothing warms the cockles of an artilleryman's heart like a new artillery piece. It's just something about that fresh cosmoline smell... :smug:
 
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