Showing posts with label Weather. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Weather. Show all posts

Monday, March 18, 2024

Diary of Private Edward W. Crippin, Sunday, August 25, 1861

Roll call as usual 5½ A. M. Meeting at 10 A. M. Rather dull in [camp]. drissling rain in the afternoon An order to leave to-morrow. Quite a No. of men have the ague. It is getting to be quite sickly here Hospital is pretty near full of sick. Thirteen men from Smiths Comp. from Galena came this evening and joined our Comp. 1861

SOURCE: Transactions of the Illinois State Historical Society for the Year 1909, p. 223

Diary of Private Edward W. Crippin, Monday Morning, August 26, 1861

Camp at Jacksonville Morgan co. Ills. Roll call at 5 Breakfast at 5½ O'clock. Immediately after breakfast the 13 men who joined last evening were examined and sworn into the service.

Left Camp Butler with 6 other Companies at ½ past 10 O'clock marched to Jim Town left on the train at ½ past 11, arrived at Jacksonville at 3 P. M. marched from the depot to our present encampment nearly 1½ miles very hot and dusty. Had rations enough left of the amt. drawn of the commissary at Camp Butler for our supper Would not issue rations to us this evening, for tomorrow through some mistake or other Have a nice pleasant place for our Camp high dry and healthy.

SOURCE: Transactions of the Illinois State Historical Society for the Year 1909, p. 223

Friday, March 15, 2024

Diary of Musician David Lane, October 3, 1862

October 3d, 1862.

We have moved camp three miles, and are now five miles above Harper's Ferry, on the banks of the Potomac. The days are extremely hot; the evenings deliciously cool, and mornings cold. We had a grand division review this morning, in honor of the President, who favored us with his presence. My curiosity was gratified by seeing a "live President," and, above all, "Old Abe." He looks much better than the likenesses we see of him—younger, and not so long and lank.

Strange rumors have been in circulation for several days—rumors of compromise; of almost unconditional surrender. What does it all mean? Is there a bare possibility the Rebels have had enough of it? That "chivalry" will acknowledge itself whipped by "mudsills," and ask for peace, while they have six hundred thousand men in the field? As far as the rank and file of this army is concerned, we would like to see them "line up" in front of us and fight it out, and have done with it.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 14-5

Diary of Musician David Lane, October 9, 1862

Pleasant Valley, October 9th, 1862.

We moved from Antietam day before yesterday, in order, as reported, to be nearer our supplies. However, as soldiers know nothing of movements until after they are made, we may leave here today. As I was writing the last sentence, I learned we are to move this afternoon, about two miles, where we will have more room and better accommodations. The order to march is always welcome to me. I hate the monotony of camp life. The same is true of nearly all our regiment. We want to finish up our work and go home to our families—for nearly all have families. From our old camp to the present one is about twelve miles—the toughest twelve miles I ever traveled. Our route lay over the Elk Ridge Mountain, about six miles winding up its steep, rocky sides, the remaining half down the opposite side, the midday sun pouring his fierce rays against its rocky surface, making the heat well-nigh unbearable. There was not even a whispering breeze to cool our throbbing brows. Two men of our brigade melted down and died, while hundreds fell out by the way and came straggling into camp next morning. The movement was foolishly conducted on the principle of a forced march when there was no call for haste. I was quite lame at the time, having cut a deep gash in my heel a few days before, which compelled me to walk on the toe of that foot. This made walking over such a road and for so long a distance rather difficult. I fell behind the regiment for the first time, but came into camp about sundown. Some companies left nearly every man by the roadside.

On Friday Robert Covert and myself went down to the river to wash our clothing. The day was hot, and Robert went in to bathe. I was sitting on the shore, in company with others of my regiment, dreamily watching the sportive antics of the bathers, when my attention was attracted to Robert by what I thought to be a peal of laughter.

With an exclamation of horror I sprang to my feet. "My God, boys, he's sinking, drowning!" He had made but two or three strokes when taken with cramps and rendered helpless. I will long remember the pleading look, the agonized cry, as he rose to the surface. There was no time for thought; he was going down the second time; in a moment he will be beyond our reach. I cannot swim, but I seized a long pole and plunged in. It was not quite long enough to reach the place where he went down, but at that instant a man stripped for a swim rushed past me, and, holding to the end of my pole, threw his shirt to Robert as he came to the surface. He caught it, and we pulled him to the shore.

I am frequently asked how I like soldiering. For a wonder, I am not disappointed. If anything, it is more endurable than I expected to find it. There are hardships as a matter of fact, it is all hardship—but I was prepared for all that. I expected to suffer—to endure—and find myself the gainer by it. While others say: "If I had known, I would not have enlisted," I can say with truth I am glad I did. If I can be of service to my country, I will be satisfied. That which troubles and annoys me most, others do not seem to mind. It is the intolerable, nauseating stench that envelops a military camp. My olfactories have become SO acutely sensitive I can smell an encampment "afar off." Many complain of the strictness of military discipline. That does not trouble me. The law is a "terror to evil doers.” I am thankful for the many kind friends I have found here. I hail with delight the President's proclamation. I believe it is a step in the right direction.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 15-7

Diary of Musician David Lane, October 17, 1862

Pleasant Valley, October 17th, 1862.

Being in a wakeful mood, I will try and compose my mind by writing a few lines in my diary, for we have become great friends—yes, confidantes—and tonight I need a confidante. Did I ever tell you, my silent friend, of my Northern home; of wife and children, loving and beloved? Then listen, while I whisper in your ear the sacred secret. I have a wife and four small children far off in Michigan. I love them with all the intensity and devotion of my nature. The thought of them is ever uppermost in my mind. In the daily, monotonous rounds of duty; in the long, dreary evenings, when folly reigns; in the stillness of the night; on the rugged, toilsome march, or in the tumult of battle, thoughts of the dear ones at home are ever present, inspiring me with hope, encouraging me to duty, a shield against temptation, a beacon light, shining out upon the stormy sea of strife on which my frail bark is launched, enabling me, thus far, to shun the rocks and quicksands that surround me.

Our regiment returned today from Frederic, where it has been guarding the railroad. We hear that General Wilcox, Colonel Fenton and Colonel Withington are to be promoted. We are heartily glad their eminent services are about to be rewarded by the Government. They are men of marked ability, and have well earned their honors. Although it will take from us our gallant Colonel, there is some compensation even in that. It will leave the regiment in command of Lieutenant Colonel Luce, who is beloved by all our men. We have heard heavy cannonading all day, but have not learned the result. It is rumored that we will move in a day or two-perhaps tomorrow. Where we go, even rumor sayeth not. Our men say it does not matter where, so they take us where work is to be done. Two men deserted from Co. G yesterday and two today. This splendid regiment that left Detroit two months ago nearly one thousand strong, mustered today, at inspection, two hundred and fifty-six men fit for duty. There are more sick than well, the result of insufficient supplies, and brutal, needless exposure of the men by officers high in rank.

The weather is delightful—cold and frosty nights, with warm sunshiny days and pure, fresh, mountain breezes that should strengthen and invigorate, and yet, of all who came from Blackman and Sandstone, I alone am well.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 19-20

Diary of Musician David Lane, October 28, 1862

Camp near Lovetsville, Va., Oct. 28th.

We bade farewell to Pleasant Valley, and started for the land of "Dixie" quite unexpectedly to us privates. Orders were issued on Saturday to the different companies to have their things packed and be ready to move at daybreak next morning. We were aroused at three o'clock, prepared and ate our breakfast, and at five o'clock were on the march. It had rained some during the night, and morning gave promise of a rainy day. Well did it fulfill its promise. About eight o'clock a drizzling rain set in, which continued until about one o'clock, when the wind changed to the north, increasing in violence until it blew a gale, which continued until morning, raining incessantly. The north winds here are very cold, and the poor soldiers, marching or standing all day in the rain, with sixty rounds of ammunition, three days' rations, knapsacks and blankets on their backs, passed a very uncomfortable day. But they bore it uncomplainingly, and when, about sundown, we pitched our little "dog tents" on the soaked and muddy ground with shouts and merry jests, we made a break for the nearest fence, and soon each company had a pile of dry chestnut rails, with which we kept a roaring fire until morning. Many of the men were wet to the skin, and, too cold to sleep, could be seen at any hour of the night in circles round their blazing campfires, talking over past scenes or future prospects. As I passed from group to group through the brigade, I noticed a feeling of discontent, caused by a lack of confidence in our leaders. The men seemed to feel we are being outgeneraled; that Lee's army, and not Richmond, should be the objective point; that the rebellion can never be put down until that army is annihilated. When I returned to our company the boys had arranged it all—the President is to retire all generals, select men from the ranks who will serve without pay, and will lead the army against Lee, strike him hard and follow him up until he fails to come to time. So passed this fearful night away.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 20-1

 

Diary of Musician David Lane, December 9, 1862

Camp near Fredericksburg, Dec. 9th, 1862.

It has been a long time—fully five weeks since I made the last entry in this journal. The forced marches, exposure, and insufficient food of the week preceding our arrival at this place had been too much even for me. It had rained or snowed almost continuously; we were out of reach of our supply train for seven days. Food gave out, but on we pressed. When we halted on the evening of our arrival, too utterly worn out to pitch a tent, I spread my blanket on the ground, threw myself upon it and slept the sleep of exhaustion. It rained during the night, and when I awoke I found myself lying in a pool of water that half covered me. My recollection of what occurred for several successive days is very vague; I knew I was being cared for by somebody, somewhere; I had no cares, no anxious doubts or perplexing fears. If in pain, I had not sense to realize it. One morning after, I do not know how many days, I awoke to consciousness; I heard a well-remembered step tripping across the floor and stop at my bedside, a soft, cool hand was pressed upon my brow; a sweet, familiar voice whispered in my ear: "You are better, dear; you will get well now." Nay, do not smile, thou unbelieving cynic, for from that hour—yes, from that instant—I began to mend. I learned afterward that I had been very low with some form of fever; that I was not taken to the hospital because my kind friend and comrade, Orville Collier, had begged the privilege of nursing me in his own tent. I can now sit up, can walk about a little, and hope soon to be well.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 22

Thursday, March 14, 2024

Diary of Private William S. White, June 5, 1861

Rain poured in torrents all night. We reached West Point about daybreak, remained there three hours, and arrived at Yorktown at 12 o'clock.

An enemy's blockader is in sight, but keeps at a respectful distance.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 95

Wednesday, March 13, 2024

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, October 17, 1862

We have had another march, this time about ten miles, through Dedham and towards Boston; the nearest we came to the city was West Roxbury. Probably we will not see much more of Boston, for the rumors are getting thicker and more substantial; but on this march, the boys who went, saw enough to make them wish to keep on to the city.

Our company is under great obligations to the following Boston gentlemen for the sum of three hundred dollars, with which to buy the patent knapsack: J. M. Beebe & Co., F. Skinner & Co., Alex. Beal, C. W. Cartwright, W. P. Sargent, Read, Gardner & Co., Wilkinson, Stetson & Co., Horatio Harris, J. R. Tibbets, E. & F. King & Co., G. Rogers, and J. C. Converse & Co.; and it is understood measures are being taken to furnish the other companies, so we will be equipped alike. The only trouble being can they be finished in time. This week which looks like the last one to be passed here, has been dismal enough, it has rained a good part of the time, and to crown all, we can't smoke in the barracks. Corporals or no corporals, it is hard work to keep us down. We had a fair time, and many a smoke under cover.

Some one has seen a box of one of the staff officers, marked New Berne, so unless it was a blind, that is our destination, the boys don't care much where, but only to get started. The last few days have finished the business; it is muddy, damp, and growing colder gradually, and we want to get away. Our last furloughs are gone, and the sooner we go the better.

SOURCE: John Jasper Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass. Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 11

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, October 26, 1862

ARRIVAL AT NEW BERNE.

About nine this morning we saw our first of Rebeldom, and after taking a pilot, and passing several ugly-looking rips and bars, leaving Fort Macon on our left, we disembarked from the steamer to the wharf, which had a railroad depot on the farther end of it. The place is called Morehead City. But if this is a city, what can the towns and villages be? We stayed in this shed or depot awhile, and were then ordered on the train of open cars. Here we waited for two mortally long hours in a pelting rain, water on each side of us, water over us, and gradually, but persistently, water all through our clothes, and not a drop of anything inside of us.

Notwithstanding the rain storm was severe, we had considerable to interest us after we started, which was between two and three o'clock. There had been fighting along the line of road a year previous, and every few miles we passed picket-posts, occupied by Mass. regiments. We cheered them and they responded. Once, where we stopped to wood-up, we saw a settlement of negroes, and some of the boys bought or hooked their first sweet potatoes here. Others of us contented ourselves with trying to keep our pipes lighted, our tobacco dry, and the cinders out of our eyes. Most all of us came to the conclusion that North Carolina was a tough place, barren and desolate, and hardly worth the cost of fighting for it.

We arrived at New Berne about six o'clock, wet through, hungry, tired, and ready for our feather beds, but found our hotel for that night was not supplied with any such articles of furniture.

Our company, with some others, was quartered in a big barn of a building built of green boards, which had shrunk both side and end ways, and for beds we had the floor, with a few bundles of hay scattered around. We could not expect much of a supper, but we managed some way, and then turned in, wet as we were. Soon after, we were called up and informed that coffee and beef, with compliments, from the Mass. 24th Reg't, were awaiting. We accepted, with thanks, and made quite a supper. Then we turned in again,—some on bundles of hay, others on the floor. Those on the hay had a hard time of it, as the bundles were shorter than we were, and we had a tendency also to roll off. So after several ineffectual attempts, many gave it up and started from the building to find better quarters. Finally, we found some wood, made a rousing fire in an old sugar boiler, and stood around it in the rain, trying to keep warm, if not dry.

SOURCE: John Jasper Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass. Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 15

Saturday, March 9, 2024

Daniel Webster to Richard M. Blatchford, Sunday, November 3, 1850—6 p.m.

Elms Farm, Sunday evening,
November 3, 1850, six o'clock.

MY DEAR SIR,—I expect to take my leave of Franklin tomorrow morning, and the last thing I propose to do, is to write to you. I have now been here a fortnight, having arrived on Monday, the 21st of October. It is the longest visit which I have paid to my native place for many years, and it has been quite agreeable. It is hard to say when I shall look on these hills and vales again, for so many successive days.

Your visit is a marked part of the occasion, and I like to repeat the expression of the pleasure it has afforded me. I sometimes wonder that you should take any interest in those scenes or these things; but that you do is so much the better and the happier for me. You left me on Friday, the 1st of this month. I did not leave home on that day, as I had a good deal of company. Yesterday I was quite alone till afternoon, when I went to Boscawen, to see and take leave of my relatives. To-day the weather has been damp, threatening rain, and I have been out no further than to the barn. The clouds seem now dispersing themselves, and I look for a good day tomorrow. I duly received your note of Friday from Boston. The Union meeting was a stirring and spirited occasion, but what may be the end, I do not know. I expressed to you, you know, three weeks ago, my fears of a decisive split in the Whig party, and I now strongly fear that result. Nevertheless, my dear Sir, I go to Washington to stay for a longer or a shorter time, but determined to do my duty while I do stay. Of personal consequences, I grow every day more and more careless.

To-morrow is Amin Bey's dinner. Then I go to Marshfield for a day, and then South. I have been quite well since you left, though I must confess all the time melancholy, at leaving a place which is dear to my recollection, and which I cannot expect to see often. But away with low spirits. Dum vivimus, vivamus.

P. S. The stars are all out, but it is too warm for them to be very bright. The night is so perfectly still that one may hear the trickling of the little brooks. Or else it is the fall in the Winnipiseogee, away up near “Tin Corner.”

I have got 'em.1

Yours,
D. W.
_______________

1 During Mr. Blatchford's visit at Franklin, to which this letter alludes, Mr. Webster expressed much anxiety to find a pair of steel spectacles which his father had worn the last ten years of his life; he feared they were lost, but said he should devote a day to hunting for them; he found them, and told Mr. Blatchford of it by the words "I have got 'em."

SOURCE: Fletcher Webster, Editor, The Private Correspondence of Daniel Webster, Vol. 2, p. 399-400

Wednesday, March 6, 2024

Diary of Private Lewis C. Paxson, Tuesday, September 2, 1862

Cold. I drew my rations. Paper, 5c. Fuss about meals. Supper, 25c.

SOURCE: Lewis C. Paxson, Diary of Lewis C. Paxson: Stockton, N.J., 1862-1865, p. 4

Diary of Private Lewis C. Paxson, Thursday, September 11, 1862

I was detailed sergeant major for this expedition to Abercrombie. Rainy. Rainy. We left Fort Snelling, Company G of the Seventh and some of the Third. Took dinner at St. Anthony. Put up for the night at Coon's Creek. Rainy and variable. The Second Winona came up during the night. Went 21 miles today. Van Amens of Anoka treated us to cheese and crackers.

SOURCE: Lewis C. Paxson, Diary of Lewis C. Paxson: Stockton, N.J., 1862-1865, p. 4

Diary of Private Lewis C. Paxson, Friday, September 12, 1862

The Winona boys lying around with one blanket white with frost. Very fine morning. Marched 19 miles to Orino and put up for the night. Very kindly treated, poor woman, corn and potatoes. A good stockade around the church. Many unused to walking are complaining of sore feet.

SOURCE: Lewis C. Paxson, Diary of Lewis C. Paxson: Stockton, N.J., 1862-1865, p. 4

Diary of Private Lewis C. Paxson, Saturday, September 13, 1862

A stockade around church at Monticello. We took dinner at Monticello. A messenger arrived from Sauk Center, two companies awaiting us. Put up for the night at Green Lake within two miles of Clear Water. Very rainy. I slept in barn. Twenty-six miles today, marched 10 miles, 2 1-2 hours. Ten eggs, 5c.

SOURCE: Lewis C. Paxson, Diary of Lewis C. Paxson: Stockton, N.J., 1862-1865, p. 4

Diary of Private Lewis C. Paxson, Sunday, September 14, 1862

Started in rain, 14 miles to St. Cloud and put up for the night. Trouble with Third about relieving guards. Gov. Ramsey here. Cannon arrived—9-pounder. Spent the evening at Ball's. Fort built in five days to hold 500 men, 100 feet in diameter.

SOURCE: Lewis C. Paxson, Diary of Lewis C. Paxson: Stockton, N.J., 1862-1865, p. 4

Diary of 1st Lieutenant Joseph Stockton, November 28, 1862

Left Moscow for Holly Springs, Mississippi, at nine o'clock, marched twenty miles, encamped in the woods, slept soundly until awakened by rain; wrapped my rubber blanket around me and went to sleep again—too tired for anything trifling to keep me awake. 4th Minnesota in the advance.

SOURCE: Joseph Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph Stockton, p. 4

Tuesday, March 5, 2024

Diary of Private Louis Leon: September 1864

It is very cold, worse than I have seen it in the South in the dead of winter.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 67

Diary of Private Louis Leon: November & December 1864

Nothing, only bitter cold. We dance every night at some of our [quarters]. Some of the men put a white handkerchief around one of their arms, and these act as the ladies. We have a jolly good time.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 68

Monday, March 4, 2024

Diary of Private Richard R. Hancock: Saturday, February 22, 1862

McNairy's Battalion took up the line of March again, following the division in the direction of Murfreesboro. As it rained nearly all day, and brother Ben was unwell, he and I remained at one Mr. Coffee's, where we had been boarding for several days.

SOURCE: Richard R. Hancock, Hancock's Diary: Or, A History of the Second Tennessee Confederate Cavalry, p. 133