Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Music. Show all posts

Sunday, March 17, 2024

Diary of Malvina S. Waring, February 18, 1865

The people of Charlotte received us with unbounded kindness, and are treating us with royal hospitality. They met us in their carriages and, although utter strangers, conducted us, as honored guests, to their beautiful homes. How is that for Confederate Treasury girls? Bet has gone to General Young's, but the others of us have fallen to the lot of Mr. Davidson, and a very enviable lot it is for us, in a home so well ordered and abounding in plenty. I do not know how long we shall be here. Mr. Duncan, who has charge of our division, says until transportation can be secured. Tonight some troops were passing through the city, and I could hear in the far, faint distance, a band playing "Dixie" and "Old Folks at Home." It made me cry, the sound was so sweet, so mournful, so heart-breaking. How fare my old folks at home? Are there any old folks left at my home? Maybe not! Alas! we can hear nothing definite!

SOURCE: South Carolina State Committee United Daughters of the Confederacy, South Carolina Women in the Confederacy, Vol. 1, “A Confederate Girl's Diary,” p. 276

Wednesday, February 14, 2024

Diary of 1st Lieutenant Joseph Stockton, September 30, 1862

For the past ten days there was nothing of particular interest. Quite a number of men are sick. I was in the hospital today seeing my men and while there one of Co. C men was dying. He was delirious and wanted his gun that he might take his place in the ranks of his company. Poor fellow, before tomorrow's sun he will be marching with that country's host that have already gone before. Some six or eight others have already died but none as yet from my company. We came near having a large fire the other day, but owing to the exertion of the guard under the command of my 1st Lieutenant Randall, it was put out. He was complimented on dress parade for his courage. Some days we are required to go to church which is held by the men being drawn up in a square and our Chaplain Barnes discourses in the center. As we have a number of good singers the music goes off very well, but there is a great deal of opposition to church on the part of the men, some being Catholics and one a Jew. In my company are two Germans who are atheists so there is quite a mixture. On Sunday last, sixty of the men marched down to the church in the city and took communion. Our camp life promises to be tedious in some respects but we are kept busy in batallion and company drills. Colonel Starring is very proficient in the formations.

SOURCE: Joseph Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph Stockton, p. 2-3

Friday, January 28, 2022

Brigadier-General Rutherford B. Hayes to Sophia Birchard Hayes, February 15, 1865

CUMBERLAND, MARYLAND, February 15, 1865.

DEAR MOTHER: – We are jogging along in the usual style of a winter camp. The thing about us which you would think most interesting is the doings of our chaplain. We have a good one. He is an eccentric, singular man — a good musician — very fond of amusement and as busy as a bee. He is a son of a well-known Presbyterian minister of Granville, Mr. Little. Since I left he has had built a large log chapel, covered with tent cloth. In this he has schools, in which he teaches the three R's, and music, and has also preaching and prayer-meetings and Sunday-school. The attendance is large. The number of young men and boys from the mountains of West Virginia, where schools are scarce, in my command makes this a useful thing. He has also got up a revival which is interesting a good many.

Since my return itinerant preachers of the Christian Commission have held two or three meetings in our chapel.

Affectionately, your son,
R.
MRS. SOPHIA HAYES.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 558-9

Sunday, January 23, 2022

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Thursday, May 14, 1863

This morning we take the train for Bethel, and in about one hour we arrive at this outpost and are conducted to the barracks lately vacated by the Forty-third Ohio. We find the Seventh Iowa stationed here, who very cordially welcome the Seventh Illinois as their “Brother Crampers.” The two Sevenths soon come to a mutual conclusion that they can run this part of the line and impart general satisfaction to all concerned. It is said that smiles are not wanting for the “vandals” in these parts. In the afternoon the regiment is paraded to receive Adjutant General Thomas, who is expected to arrive on the afternoon train. After his arrival and reception by the troops, he addresses us for a short time upon the issues growing out of the emancipation proclamation, and then proceeds on his way towards Corinth.

We remain at Bethel from the fourteenth of May until June 7th, 1863. The Seventh will long remember Bethel and Henderson, Tennessee. How they stood picket; how they patroled the railroad; how they drilled; how they run the lines and sallied forth into the country; how they mingled with the chivalry and partook of their hospitality; how they sat down and talked with the beautiful, and how they listened to their music, “Bonnie Blue Flag” and “Belmont;" how the citizens flocked to our lines; how the boys traded “Scotch snuff” to the gentle ones for chickens, butter and eggs. Yes, Bethel and Henderson will long live on memory's page.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 170-1

Wednesday, December 15, 2021

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Tuesday, April 21, 1863

Reinforcements still continue to come, and we still remain quiet. Why we do not move we cannot tell. Perhaps the General is waiting for all expected reinforcements to arrive. Captain Smith with Company E is sent on a foraging expedition to Dickenson's plantation, coming back in the evening well supplied. This evening the Seventh seem in a gleeful mood. Around every camp fire they are now singing “Bonnie blue flag,” — “Rally round the flag, boys,” making the mountain gorges re-echo with patriotic songs. No discord here; no discontent manifest-all seem united in the great work of saving the Union.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 149-50

Wednesday, September 22, 2021

Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, December 6, 1864

CAMP RUSSELL, December 6, 1864.

MY DARLING: – We are very comfortable and very jolly. No army could be more so. We have had no orders to build winter quarters, but we have got ready for rough weather, and can now worry through it.

We have horse-races, music, church (sic!), and all the attractions. No fighting, which makes me hope I shall get off the last of this month to see my darling and the dear ones.

Affectionately,
R.
MRS. HAYES.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 543

Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Sophia Birchard Hayes, December 6, 1864

CAMP RUSSELL NEAR WINCHESTER, VIRGINIA,
December 6, 1864.

DEAR MOTHER: — I received your cheerful letter on Sunday. It finds us in the best of spirits and so comfortably camped that we all would be glad to know that our winter quarters would be at this camp.

We have the railroad finished to within eight miles; daily mails and telegraphic communication with the world. The men have built huts four feet high, eight or nine feet square, of logs, puncheons, and the like, banked up with earth and covered with their shelter blankets. My quarters are built of slabs and a wall tent. Tight and warm. We are in woods on a rolling piece of ground. It will be muddy but we are building walks of stone, logs, etc., so we can keep out of the dirt. — I have a mantel-piece, a table, one chair, one stool, an ammunition box, a trunk, and a bunk for furniture.

We get Harper's Monthly and Weekly, the Atlantic, daily papers from Baltimore, New York, and Philadelphia. The Christian Commission send a great many religious books. I selected “Pilgrim's Progress" from a large lot offered me to choose from a few days ago.

Our living is, ordinarily, bread (baker's bread) and beef, and coffee and milk (we keep a few cows), or pork and beans and coffee. Occasionally we have oysters, lobsters, fish, canned fruits, and vegetables. The use of liquor is probably less than among the same class of people at home. All kinds of liquor can be got, but it is expensive and attended with some difficulty.

The chaplains now hold frequent religious meetings. Music we have more of and better than can be had anywhere except in the large cities. We have very fine horse-racing, much better managed than can be found anywhere out of the army. A number of ladies can be seen about the camps — officers' wives, sisters, daughters, and the Union young ladies of Winchester. General Sheridan is particularly attentive to one of the latter. General Crook is a single man — fond of ladies, but very diffident. General Custer has a beautiful young wife, who is here with him.

I have just seen a case of wonderful recovery — such cases are common, but none more singular than this. Captain Williams of my command was shot by a Minié ball on the 24th of July in the center of the back of his neck, which passed out of the center of his chin, carrying away and shattering his jaw in front. He is now perfectly stout and sound (his voice good) and not disfigured at all. But he can chew nothing, eats only spoon victuals!

Dr. Webb is a great favorite. The most efficient surgeon on the battle-field in this army. He is complimented very highly in General Crook's official report. He hates camp life, especially in bad weather, when he suffers from a throat disease. My love to the household.

Affectionately, your son,
R.
MRS. SOPHIA HAYES.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 543-4

Tuesday, September 29, 2020

Diary of Caroline Cowles Richards: February 21, 1862

Our society met at Fanny Palmer's this afternoon. I went but did not stay to tea as we were going to Madame Anna Bishop's concert in the evening. The concert was very, very good. Her voice has great scope and she was dressed in the latest stage costume, but it took so much material for her skirt that there was hardly any left for the waist.

SOURCE: Caroline Cowles Richards, Village Life in America, 1852-1872, p. 138

Sunday, September 27, 2020

Dr. Seth Rogers to his Daughter, January 13, 1863

January 13, 1863.

. . . When I sit down at evening it always seems as if there could be but one subject to write upon, the music of these religious soldiers, who sing and pray steadily from supper time till “taps” at 8.30, interrupted only by roll-call at eight. The chaplain's pagoda-like school-house is the scene of earnest prayers and hymns at evening. I am sure the President is remembered more faithfully and gratefully in prayer by these christian soldiers than by any other regiment in the army. It is one thing for a chaplain to pray for him, but quite another for the soldiers to kneel and implore blessings on his head and divine guidance for his thoughts. These men never forget to pray earnestly for the officers placed over them; such prayers ought to make us true to them.

This afternoon, for the first time, our men are getting some money — not direct from the Government, but through that constant friend to them — Gen. Saxton, who waits for Government to refund it to him. The real drawback to enlistments is that the poor fellows who were in the Hunter regiment have never been paid a cent by the Government. Without reflection, one would suppose the offer of freedom quite sufficient inducement for them to join us. But you must remember that not the least curse of slavery is ignorance and that the intellectual enjoyment of freedom cannot, by the present generation, be so fully appreciated as its material gifts and benefits. Just think how few there are, even in New England, who could bravely die for an Idea, you will see that the infinite love of freedom which inspires these people is not the same that fills the heart of a more favored race. . . .

Before breakfast this morning I stood on the shore and listened to the John Brown hymn, sung by a hundred of our recruits, as they came up the river on the steamer Boston, from St. Augustine, Fla. Our Lieut. Col. [Billings]1 went down last week for them and today we have received into our regiment all but five, whom I rejected in consequence of old age and other disabilities. It seemed hard to reject men who came to fight for their freedom, but these poor fellows are a hindrance in active service, and we might be compelled to leave them to the mercy of those who know not that “It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.”

. . . I wish you could see how finely the Colonel appears in my dress coat. His was sent from Worcester quite a time before I left New England, but has never reached him. Very likely some miserable colonel of a poor white regiment appropriated it. I pity those who get so demoralized by association and wish they could have the benefit of our higher code. As I am less for ornament than for use here, I offered my coat to the Colonel, and was glad to find that Theodore [a tailor in Worcester] had applied his “celestial ” principle “ under the arms,” so that a Beaufort tailor could easily make an exact fit for the upper sphere. To sick soldiers it is unimportant whether I have one or two rows of buttons, and my handsome straps fit just as well on my fatigue coat as on the other. . . .

At this moment the camp resounds with the John Brown hymn, sung as no white regiment can sing it, so full of pathos and harmony. I know you will think me over enthusiastic about these people, but every one of you would be equally so, if here. Every day deepens my conviction that if we are true to them they will be true to us. The Colonel arrives at the same conclusion. When I think of their long-suffering at the hands of the whites, and then of their readiness to forgive, I feel a reverence for the race that I did not know before coming among them. You need not fancy that I find them perfect; it has not been my fortune to find mortals of that type, — even in Worcester, — but I do find them, as a people, religious, kind hearted, forgiving and as truth loving as the average of whites, more so than the Irish of the lowest rank.
_______________

1 Col. Liberty Billings.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 344-5

Thursday, September 24, 2020

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Monday, April 7, 1862

Last night was a doleful night as the soldiers laid in this wilderness by the Tennessee. All night long there was a chilling rain, and the April wind sighed mournfully around the suffering, wounded warriors. Many a wounded soldier died last night. During the weary hours the insatiate archer was making silent steps.

"One quivering motion, one convulsive throe,
And the freed spirits took their upward flight.”

Would that God would roll back the storms of war and temper the hearts of men ere any more human blood flows down like rivulets to crimson the beautiful waters of the Cumberland and Tennessee. But oh! it seems that more blood must flow; that away up yonder, in those cottage homes, where the prairie winds blow, more tears must sparkle, fall and perish; that more hearts must be broken-more hopes dashed down—more doomed

"In their nightly dreams to hear
The bolts of war around them rattle."

Hark! we hear a rumble and a roar. It is a rattle of musketry and the terrible knell from the cannon's mouth. We are marched to the front, where we find Nelson engaged. His hounds of war are let loose. Inroads are being made. The Seventh is filed into position and ordered to lie down. Though the enemy has given ground, they still show stubbornness. We are now in a sharp place; there is some uneasiness here. A cold chill creeps over the soldiers. How uncomfortable it is to be compelled to remain inactive when these whizzing minies come screaming through the air on their mission of death. From such places, under such circumstances, the Seventh would ever wish to be excused, for it grates harshly with the soldier, and is exceedingly distressing when he is prevented from returning compliment for compliment, as the Seventh will testify to-day. But we do not remain here long, for from this place of inactivity, we are moved to a place of action. The battle is raging furiously. The army of the Ohio and the army of the Tennessee are striking hand to hand. The tables are turning; step by step the rebels are being driven. Position after position the Seventh is now taking. The sharp, positive crack of their musketry makes a terrible din along their line. It is apparent that the rebels are retreating. Another day is waning; a day of sacrifice; a day in which has been held a high carnival of blood on Shiloh's plain. Many patriot, loyal soldiers died to-day, and as they died, many of them were seen to smile as they saw the old flag, the pride of their hearts, riding so proudly over the bloody field. Many shed a tear of joy as they beheld the beautiful streams of light falling on the crimson wings of conquest.

The rebels are now flying. Nelson is making a terrible wreck in the rear of the retreating army. Kind reader, stand with me now where the Seventh stands; look away yonder! Your eye never beheld a grander sight. It is the northwest's positive tread. They move firmly; there is harmony in their steps. Ten thousand bayonets flash in the blazing sunlight. They are moving in columns on the bloody plain. Their tramp sounds like a death knell. The band is playing “Hail to the chief.” Its martial anthems seem to float as it were on golden chords through air, and as they fall around the weary soldier their hopes of glory beat high. They are retreating now; the rear of the rebel army is fast fading from Shiloh's. field. Before the north west's mighty power how they dwindle into littleness, as turrets and spires beneath the stars. They are far away now, and the great battle of Shiloh is over; the fierce wild drama is ended; the curtain falls; the sun is hid, and night has come. The Seventh goes into camp on the battle-field; their camp fires are soon burning, and those noble ones, who have fought so well, lie down, worn and weary, to rest themselves. They have passed through two days of fearful battle; amid thunder, smoke and perils they bore their tattered flag, and when the storm-king was making his most wrathful strides, it still waved in the wind and never went down, for strong arms were there and they held it up. But how painful it is to know that some comrades who were with us in the morning, are not with us now. They have fallen and died-died in the early morning of life. And why did they die? A royal herald will answer, for a country, for a home, for a name. Come walk with me now while the tired soldiers are sleeping. Who is this who lays here beneath this oak, in such agony, such convulsive throes? It is a soldier in gray; a wounded rebel who fought against the old flag to-day. But he is dying; his life is almost gone; he is dead now. Oh! how sad it makes one feel to see a soldier die, and how we pity him who has just died; pity him because he has fallen in such a desperate cause; pity him because no royal herald will ever write his name on the sacred scroll of fame.

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 54-7

Thursday, September 17, 2020

The Southern Mothers . . .

. . . return their most grateful thanks to Professor Winkler and the ladies who so kindly assisted him in the concert for their benefit on Monday last.  That the concert was a brilliant affair, none familiar with the reputation of Professor Winkler and the ladies who performed there can doubt, and many regretted the untimely rain which prevented their being among the appreciative audience that enjoyed the delightful music that night.

S. C. LAW, President, S. S. M.
MARY E. POPE, Secretary.


SOURCE: Memphis Daily Appeal, Memphis Tennessee, Thursday August 15, 1861, p. 4

Sunday, August 9, 2020

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Saturday Morning, February 27, 1862


We remain in camp here until the twenty-seventh; during this time we are unable to note anything of much interest, but the Seventh will long remember Clarksville; their comfortable quarters and pleasant life while there; also the citizens, especially the ladies of rebel proclivities, who were oft-times heard chanting their songs—songs that made music in the wind that swept along the Cumberland's shore. But ah! it was music for a desperate cause.


SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 44

Thursday, February 20, 2020

Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes: Thursday, May 19, 1864

Meadow Bluff, May 19, 1864

Dearest: — We got safely to this point in our lines, two hours ago, after twenty-one days of constant marching, frequent fighting, and much hardship, and some starvation. This is the most completely successful and by all odds the pleasantest campaign I have ever had. Now it is over I hardly know what I would change in it except to restore life and limbs to the killed and wounded.

My command in battles and on the march behaved to my entire satisfaction. None did, none could have done better. We had a most conspicuous part in the battle at Cloyd's Mountain and were so lucky. You will see the lists of killed and wounded. We brought off two hundred of our wounded in our train and left about one hundred and fifty. But we have good reason to think they will fare well. . . .

We took two cannon which the regiment has got along here by hard work. The Thirty-sixth and Twenty-third are the only regiments which went into the thickest of the fight and never halted or gave back. The Twelfth did well but the "Flatfoots" backed out. The Ninety-first well, but not much exposed. The Ninth Virginia did splendidly and lost heavier than any other. The Potomac Brigade, (Pennsylvania Reserves, etc., etc.,) broke and fled. I had the dismounted men of the Thirty-fourth. They did pretty well. Don't repeat my talk. But it is true, the Twenty-third was the Regiment. The Thirty-sixth I know would have done as well if they had had the same chance. The Twenty-third led and the Thirty-sixth supported them. General Crook is the best general I have ever known.

This campaign in plan and execution has been perfect. We captured ten pieces of artillery, burned the New River Bridge and the culverts and small bridges thirty in number for twenty miles from Dublin to Christiansburg. Captured General Jenkins and three hundred officers and men; killed and wounded three to five hundred and routed utterly his army.*

We shall certainly stay here some days, perhaps some weeks, to refit and get ready for something else. You and the boys are remembered and mentioned constantly.

One spectacle you would have enjoyed. The Rebels contested our approach to the bridge for two or three hours. At last we drove them off and set it on fire. All the troops were marched up to see it — flags and music and cheering. On a lovely afternoon the beautiful heights of New River were covered with our regiments watching the burning bridge. It was a most animating scene.

Our band has been the life of the campaign. The other three bands all broke down early. Ours has kept up and played their best on all occasions. They alone played at the burning of the bridge and today we came into camp to their music.

I have, it is said, Jenkins' spurs, a revolver of the lieutenant-colonel of [the] Rebel Thirty-sixth, a bundle of Roman candles, a common sword, a new Rebel blanket, and other things, I would give the dear boys if they were here. — Love to all.

Affectionately ever
R.
Mrs. Hayes.
_______________


SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 461-3

Saturday, December 28, 2019

Private Daniel L. Ambrose: July 4, 1861

July 4th—Dawns gloriously. The national salutes roll from the Illinois shore, sending their joyous music southward, telling a story that runs back to the morning of the Republic. At 10 o'clock the regiment is formed and marched to the grove, where they listen to the reading of the Declaration of Independence by Colonel Cook. Oration by Chaplain Davis. Valedictory by Captain Joslyn

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 9

Diary of 5th Sergeant Osborn H. Oldroyd: May 9, 1863

Orders this morning to draw two days' rations, pack up and be ready to move at a moment's warning. We drew hard-tack, coffee, bacon, salt and sugar, and stored them in our haversacks. Some take great care so to pack the hard-tack that it will not dig into the side while marching, for if a corner sticks out too much anywhere, it is only too apt to leave its mark on the soldier. Bacon, too, must be so placed as not to grease the blouse or pants. I see many a bacon badge about me—generally in the region of the left hip. In filling canteens, if the covers get wet the moisture soaks through and scalds the skin. The tin cup or coffee-can is generally tied to the canteen or else to the blanket or haversack, and it rattles along the road, reminding one of the sound of the old cow coming home. All trifling troubles like these on the march may be easily forestalled by a little care, but care is something a soldier is not apt to take, and he too often packs his “grub” as hurriedly as he “bolts” it. We were soon ready to move, and filled our canteens with the best water we have had for months. We did not actually get our marching order, however, until near three o'clock P. M., so that being anxious to take fresh water with us, we had to empty and refill canteens several times. As we waited for the order, a good view was afforded us of the passing troops, and the bristling lines really looked as if there was war ahead.

O, what a grand army this is, and what a sight to fire the heart of a spectator with a speck of patriotism in his bosom. I shall never forget the scene of to-day, while looking back upon a mile of solid columns, marching with their old tattered flags streaming in the summer breeze, and hearkening to the firm tramp of their broad brogans keeping step to the pealing fife and drum, or the regimental bands discoursing “Yankee Doodle” or “The Girl I Left Behind Me.” I say it was a grand spectacle—but how different the scene when we meet the foe advancing to the strains of “Dixie” and “The Bonny Blue Flag.” True, I have no fears for the result of such a meeting, for we are marching full of the prestige of victory, while our foes have had little but defeat for the last two years. There is an inspiration in the memory of victory. Marching through this hostile country with large odds against us, we have crossed the great river and wil1 cut our way through to Vicksburg, let what dangers may confront us. To turn back we should be overwhelmed with hos[t]s exulting on their own native soil. These people can and will fight desperately, but they cannot put a barrier in our way that we cannot pass. Camped a little after dark.

SOURCE: Osborn Hamiline Oldroyd, A Soldier's Story of the Siege of Vicksburg, p. 11-12

Thursday, December 5, 2019

Diary of Colonel Jacob Ammen, April 3, 1862

Passed through Waynesborough; small Union flags on some houses; women ask to let the band play some old tunes—Yankee Doodle, &c. The music makes them weep for joy. March 15 miles and encamp. Very poor country, bad roads; land poor 5 miles after passing Mount Pleasant to this place.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 10, Part 1 (Serial No. 10), p. 330

Tuesday, August 20, 2019

Diary of Captain Luman Harris Tenney: Sunday, June 4, 1865

Reached Louisville before noon. Overtook the Columbia. Our boat the Prima Donna. Slow time getting through the canal at Louisville. Columbia went over the falls. In evening had some music and rehearsal by Barnitz. Good.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 166

Friday, July 12, 2019

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: November 3, 1861

ARRIVAL AT BALTIMORE.

We reached Havre de Grace about noon. A heavy storm has set in. It is raining hard and the wind blows a gale. We crossed the Susquehanna river at this place, on a big steam ferry boat, and I must confess to some fears, as I looked from the car windows down to the water- a distance of nearly fifty feet, and wondered why we did not capsize. Here I saw a government mule pen. Several acres are enclosed, and I was told that the pen contained about 10,000 mules. A large number of negroes are employed taking care of them. I think this must be a base of supplies. After waiting here an hour or so to make up our train, we again started. An hour's ride brought us to the famous gunpowder bridge, which crosses an arm of Chesapeake bay, not far from Baltimore. This bridge the rebels attempted to burn, and partially succeeded. Many of the charred timbers are still to be seen on the bridge. There we saw the first soldiers on duty, a picket guard being kept here to protect the bridge. We reached Baltimore about 3 p. m., and left the cars in the midst of a drenching rain, and marched about a mile through the rain and wind, to the steamboat landing, the band playing The Campbells Are Coming. No boat being in readiness to take us to Annapolis, Col. Upton told the captains of companies that they must find quarters for their men, and be ready for an early start in the morning; Captain Clark obtained a loft in a grain store for his company, where we passed the night very comfortably.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 10

Tuesday, August 21, 2018

Diary of 1st Lieutenant Luman Harris Tenney: Friday, November 25, 1864

Thanksgiving chickens for dinner. Wrote to Mrs. Beers. Forage caps issued. Considerable dissatisfaction among the boys. Band played some time.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 136

Friday, April 13, 2018

Captain Charles Wright Wills: February 7, 1864

Scottsboro, Ala., February 7, 1864.

This has indeed been a day of rest. More like a home Sabbath, than the Lord's day often seems, here in the “show business.” None of my company have been on duty, and as the day has been bright and warm, the men have been nearly all out in front of the quarters; all looking natty and clean and healthy, sunning themselves real country-Sunday fashion. Seems to me that I grow prouder every day of being captain over these men. If I could only get 30 good, healthy recruits, I expect I'd have to be “hooped.” The boys brought a fiddle in with them yesterday from our Lebanon march, and as nearly all of them play, “more or less,” it has seen but little rest to-day. Every man I have present (42) is for duty, and if there are any soldiers in the army who can outmarch them, or do duty better, “I want them for Babcockses,” as the boys say. Frank Post was in my tent to-day, and informed me that in her last letter, Laura told him that some horrible stories of my cruelty to women and children while in command of the mounted detachment, were in circulation at home. He wanted me to trace the author of them, but I respectfully begged to be excused. The person who told such stuff, falsifies; for I never killed a fly, or stepped on a worm, or kicked a dog, or threw a stone at a cat, and know I wouldn't treat a woman or child worse, if they were Rebels. I do take a little private satisfaction in knowing that I have never said a word, except respectfully, to any woman in the Confederacy, that I have ever touched a cent's worth of private property for my own use. We, with 600 more of our brigade, had to take horses and rations from a poor set of people, but that was no more our fault than the war is. Those pretty crystals I sent you by Lieutenant Dorrance, are “Iceland Spar,” which is, I believe, the only stone which possesses the power of double refraction. If you put a thin piece of it over a black mark on paper, and look closely, you will see two marks; try this piece which I enclose. I took a lesson in chess last night, played a couple of games. Don't [think] I would ever make a player. Colonel Dickerman is at present commanding the brigade, and Major Willison the regiment, Lieutenant Colonel Wright being on detached service as a division inspector general. Mattison is in his quartermaster department almost constantly, and Dorrance's absence leaves me quite alone. Dorrance was in a way, good company. Always in a good humor and talking. Real accommodating, too, if carefully handled.

I went to the nearest house to camp to-day, to beg a little piece of tallow to soften a pair of marching boots. I sat down by a fire, in company with three young women, all cleanly dressed and powdered to death. Their ages were from 18 to 24. Each of them had a quid of tobacco in her cheek about the size of my stone inkstand, and if they didn't make the extract fly worse than I ever saw it in a country grocery, shoot me. These women here have so disgusted me with the use of tobacco that I have determined to abandon it. Well, we are again under orders to march at a moment's notice. Received them about noon to-day, and expect to start in the morning. It is intimated that we go to Chattanooga, first, and then either to Dalton, Knoxville, or garrison Chattanooga, and let its present occupants go. I was much pleased to get the orders, for above all things, do hate a permanent camp. I enjoy the tramping, the mud, the cold, and being tired, and everything mean there is about soldiering, except being hungry. That beats me to a fraction. If I could only go without eating three or four days at a time I would pass as a soldier, but bless me, missing a meal is worse than drawing a tooth. I never tried it as long as I have been in the army, but it seems to me that putting me on quarter rations would be equivalent to putting me in a hospital bed.

Hurrah for the march. No such place for real fun elsewhere. We have our regular races, and tough ones they are, too, sometimes. Each regiment takes its turn in having the advance, one day at a time. Say, to-day we have the lead, then to-morrow we will march behind all the rest, and the next day the regiment which succeeded us in the lead will fall behind us, etc. It is a great deal easier to march in front than in the rear, because in passing defile, or crossing streams on single logs, all of the time that is lost falls, finally, on the rearmost regiment, and after it crosses it sometimes has to double-quick it a mile or more to catch up again. A common time step or 90 to the minute, in front with a brigade of 1,500 over the average of these roads, makes the rear in order to keep up, take more than quick time, or over 112 steps to the minute, during their marching time. So you can imagine our races, though fun to the advance, make the rear work—no laughing matter. The point of the race is for the advance regiment to move so fast that the others will break up, tired out, and straggle. Yesterday the 97th Indiana coming in had the lead and undertook to run us. We had the rear, but by not waiting to cross on logs, but wading through creeks up to our knees or middles kept at their heels for 8 miles without a rest. ’Twas raining all the time and the roads were awful slippery. Our brigade tried hard to run us down at first, but now none of them doubt our ability to march with any regiment. When the men are resting along the road they have a great fashion of making remarks about any strange soldier or citizen who passes. As we were resting on the 5th inst., a bare-footed, sick-looking soldier came hobbling through. One man said, “He's sick, don't say anything to him;” another said, “No, he's shod a little too rough;” another, “Yes, and he interferes;” another, “Keep still he's slipping upon something;” another, “He's showing us how Fanny Elssler went over a looking glass;” another, “Come here and I'll take the pegs out of your shoes,” etc. Wouldn't that be interesting to the passerby?

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 213-6