Diary of Private William S. White, August 17, 1861

Returned to Bethel Church where we remained until the 22d.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 107

Diary of Private William S. White, August 22, 1861

Returned to Young's Mill.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 107

Diary of Private William S. White, August 23, 1861

Having but a limited supply of underclothing with me at this camp, I doffed my garments and turned washerman for the nonce, intending to seat myself on the sunny side of the mill pond and wait patiently until my clothes were sundried thoroughly. Only one shirt, one pair of drawers and one pair of socks. As a washist, I never have been a success, but clear water and a good will accomplishes much,—when all at once the drum beats to "fall in"—on went my wet clothes and away we marched to Yorktown, reaching that place thoroughly chilled through and through.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 107

Diary of Private William S. White, October 28, 1861

Our Captain, Robert C. Stanard, died to-day at Camp Deep Creek, of disease contracted in the army. He was a man of warm impulses and generous heart.

Remained in Williamsburg about ten days, when I concluded to call on my Gloucester friends once more, as it would be worse than folly to return to my command in such ill health.

Hired a buggy in Williamsburg and went to "Bigler's Wharf," on the York River; there hired a boat and crossed over the river to Cappahoosic Wharf. At this place I found a member of my company who lived some half a mile from the wharf.

Remained at his father's, Captain Andrews, (a Captain of artillery in the war of 1812) for several days, eating oysters and rolling ten-pins.

Captain Andrews is a jolly specimen of an old Virginia gentleman, whose motto seems to be Dum Vivimus Vivamus.

From Captain Andrews's I went to "Waverly," where I most pleasantly spent ten days, after having been joined by my brother, Rev. Thomas W. White, who insisted on my getting a discharge from the army. Concluded to return to my command, he and I going to Cappahoosic Wharf, he taking the up boat for West Point and I waiting for the down boat for Yorktown. Whilst on the wharf, I was again taken with a severe chill, and remembering my friend, Captain Andrews, I crawled, rather than walked, to his house. I was then seriously ill, but had every attention possible; my physician being Dr. Francis Jones, brother of the owner of Waverly. Dr. Frank, seeming to take a fancy to me, told me if I would come to his house, where he could pay me especial attention, he would promise to get me all right in a week. As soon as I could sit up, I took him at his word, and he put me through a regular course of medicine, watching carefully everything I eat. Kind hearted old Virginian; I wonder if it will ever be in my power to repay him and other dear friends in this good old county for kindnesses to me? When I commenced improving, I felt a longing desire to get back to camp, and accordingly returned to Yorktown in the latter part of November. My company officers now are: Captain, Edgar F. Moseley; First Lieutenant, John M. West; Senior Second Lieutenant, Benjamin H. Smith; Junior Second Lieutenant, Henry C. Carter.

Found they were stationed some twenty miles from Yorktown, and next day started to hunt them up. Hearing they were at Young's Mill, I went to that place, but found the First and Second detachments had returned to their camp, at Deep Creek, on the east side of Warwick River, whilst the Third and Fourth detachments were on picket duty at Watt's Creek, six miles from Newport News. Joined them at that place, having been absent three months. None of the boys ever expected to see me again, and they wondered but the more when I told them that since I had left them I had swallowed enough quinine pills to reach from Newport News to Bristol, Tennessee, were they to catch hold hands.

We remained at Watt's Creek very quietly for a few days, but one night the Yankees brought up a gun-boat and gave us a terrific shelling; when we got up and "dusted."

My mess, composed of Andrew, Dick and Mac. Venable, Gordon McCabe, Clifford Gordon, Kit Chandler, and myself, owned a stubborn mule and a good cart, driven by a little black "Cuffee" whose appellative distinction was "Bob." Now, "Bob" and the mule came into our possession under peculiar circumstances in fact, we "pressed" them into service on some of our trips and kept them to haul our plunder. Bob was as black as the boots of the Duke of Inferno and as sharp as a steel-trap; consequently, we endeavored to give his youthful mind a religious tendency: yet Bob would gamble. Not that he cared for the intricacies of rouge et noir, ecarté, German Hazard, or King Faro, or even that subtlest of all games, "Old Sledge." No, no; he de voted his leisure time to swindling the city camp cooks out of their spare change at the noble game of "Five Corns."

George Washington (Todd) had never heard of that little game, or there would have been a Corn Exchange in Richmond long before the war.

It seems that they shuffled the corns up in their capacious paws and threw them on a table or blanket, betting on the smooth side or pithy side coming uppermost.

Night reigned—so did "Bob," surrounded by his sable satellites, making night hideous with their wrangling.

Say dar, nigger, wha' you take dem corns for? My bet. I win'd dat."

Boom!-boom!—and two nail-keg gunboat shells come screaming over our heads, disappearing into the woods, crashing down forest oaks and leaving a fiery trail behind them.

"Hi -what dat? Golly!" and up jumped Bob, leaving his bank and running into our tent. "Say, Marse Andrew, time to git, ain't it?"

"We must wait for orders, Bob.”

"I woodd'n wate for no orders, I woodd'n; I'd go now," said Bob, as he tremblingly slunk back into his house. But the Demon of Play had left Bob and grim Terror held high carnival within his woolly head.

Boom! Boom!! Boom!!! and as many shells came searching through the midnight air in quest of mischief.

And Bob knelt him down and prayed long and loud: "O-h! Lord, Marse, God'l Mity, lem me orf dis hear one time, an' I'll play dem five corns no more. Mity sorry I dun it now." And Robert ever afterward eschewed the alluring game. Returned to our camp at Land's End, on the west side of Warwick river.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 107-10

Diary of Private William S. White, December 1861

Our Third and Fourth Detachments are camped for the winter at Land's End, under the command of Lieutenant John M. West, and supported by the Fourteenth Virginia Infantry, Colonel Hodges commanding. The third gun is stationed immediately on the James River where the Warwick empties into it, and the fourth gun one-and-a-half miles up the Warwick River, supported by Company "K," Fourteenth Virginia Infantry, Captain Claiborne, of Halifax county, Va., commanding. We have comfortable log cabins, built by our own men, with glass windows, plank floors, kitchen attached, etc., and our cuisine bears favorable comparison with home fare. Time does not hang very heavily on my hands, for I am now drilling a company of infantry from Halifax county, Captain Edward Young's, in artillery tactics, previous to their making a change into that branch of the service. Then we get up an occasional game of ball, or chess, or an old hare hunt, or send reformed Bob to the York River after oysters, we preferring the flavor of York River oysters to those of Warwick River.

Fortunately we have managed to scrape up quite a goodly number of books, and being in close communication with Richmond, we hear from our friends daily.

Soon the spring campaign will open, and then farewell to the quiet pleasures of "Rebel Hall," farewell to the old messmates, for many changes will take place upon the reorganization of our army during the spring. No more winters during the war will be spent as comfortably and carelessly as this[.] Soon it will be a struggle for life, and God only knows how it will all end.

My health has but little improved, but I had rather die in the army than live out.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 110

Diary of Private William S. White, Late February 1862

During the latter part of February we were ordered with the Fourteenth Virginia Infantry to fall back to the left flank of Mulberry Island, some four or five miles in rear of our former position.

Mulberry Island is the nearest water battery on the north side of the James River to Newport News, and mounts seven or eight heavy guns. It is supported by the Day's Point battery, on the south side of the James, mounting seventeen guns. Magruder, as soon as we reached this place, sent us six hundred negroes to throw up heavy fortifications. Our position here is quite a strong one; on our left flank is the Warwick River, on our right is a deep marsh and the heavy battery at Mulberry Island; in our front is a broad, open field, our guns commanding it. Reinforced by the Fifth Louisiana Infantry.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 111

Diary of Private William S. White, July 1, 1861

Changed our position to Young's Mill, a strong position nine miles from Newport News.

Throwing up breastworks, reënforced by four pieces of artillery and Fifth Louisiana regiment.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 104

Diary of Private William S. White, July 2, 1861

We have now at this point eight pieces of artillery and three thousand men. Sent to Yorktown for eight days' rations and our tents.

This is one of the most beautiful camps I ever saw, but the great scarcity of good water makes it undesirable.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 104

Diary of Private William S. White, July 3, 1861

Quiet along the lines; some little "cursing" of Magruder in camp, for marching us so much in such rainy weather.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 104

Diary of Private William S. White, July 4, 1861

A portion of our infantry, with the First and Third detachments of my company, left to-day for Harwood's Mill.

An expedition is spoken of to-morrow, but the way liquor is circulating through camp to-day makes me somewhat afraid of a fiasco.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 104

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

THE "DREUX SKIRMISH."

It pains me no litle to write the following account of this sad affair, but it was my intention when I first commenced this journal to give, as far as I was able, a just and truthful account of the scenes through which we passed during the war and if there seems to the general reader a small amount of egotism he must excuse it. Other and more elaborate histories of the war will be written by professed journalists but few of them will be real actors on the bloody stage.

Lieutenant-Colonel Charles Dreux, commanding the First Battalion of Louisiana Volunteers, and also commanding this expedition was as brave and gallant an officer as ever drew sword for Freedom.

Our attempt to capture a small marauding body of the enemy ended in miserable failure, and cost poor Dreux his life—cut down in the prime of life. Twenty picked men were selected from each of the five companies of the Louisiana Battalion, but instead of those being commanded by one ranking company officer, each squad of twenty took its full compliment of company officers, thus having at least four times as many commissioned officers as was necessary; there were also twenty cavalrymen belonging to the "Halifax (Va.) Catawba Troops," and eight picked men from my Company (Fourth Detachment, Third Company) with a Sergeant, Corporal and two Commissioned officers, Captain Stanard and Lieutenant Moseley; in all about one hundred and fifty men.

Unfortunately the driver to our howitzer was totally inexperienced and his horses were then being driven for the first time and were quite wild.

The plan was this:

We left Young's Mill about midnight, and taking the road to Newport News reached our destination a short time before dawn of day, and Dreux's plan was to form his infantry on the left of the main road, his howitzer on the left of the infantry and in a small country road running into the main road, whilst the cavalry were in rear of the howitzer and acting as its especial guard. We were expressly ordered not to open fire until orders were given by Dreux in person, and it was understood that we were to allow the Yankees to pass the country road, our gun being concealed, and ready for action, when we were to run our gun into the main road "by hand to the front" and open upon them, whilst the infantry would uncover, and the cavalry charge" at the same time. The Yankees coming up rather slowly Colonel Dreux sent out a small scouting party to see what had become of them, and this party ran plump into the Yankees before they were aware of it. Several shots passed and there was no chance of an ambuscade then, and the first thing I knew we were all mixed up together, the Yankees having come through the woods right upon us, not confining themselves to the main road. A very deliberate looking “blue coat" took a cool aim at my head, fired, the ball grazing my cheek, and I think killed Dreux, who was standing a few paces behind me, though none of us saw him fall. This was the first shot fired and the Yankee was not more than fifteen paces from me. Here was a predicament—our gun charged with "canister," within. twenty yards of the enemy, and we ordered not to fire unless Dreux gave the order—and he dead, unknown to us, and the Yankees popping away at us at a fearful rate, their fire feebly returned by a portion of our infantry, they, like ourselves, being ordered not to fire unless Dreux gave the order. Stanard and Moseley, who were both absent, I never have known where, at the commencement of the fight, now rushed up to us, and Stanard, in a very excited manner ordered the gun to be "limbered up" and taken out of the road, as the Yankees were all around us (so he said). We begged him to let us give the enemy a shot, but no! "limber to the front, and get out of that road!" The cavalry, not knowing what "limber to the front" meant, I presume, concluded it was too hot for them and, after shooting one of our own scouts, dashed down the road in a complete panic—running against our horses, attached to our gun, who likewise took affright, and, by just a "leetle" help from the driver, scampered off and up the road in confusion—worse confounded. One of our detachment, W. Gordon McCabe, seeing this yelled out to the Louisiana troops: "Our gun is gone, but our men are all here!”

The Yankees hearing this extraordinary rumpus, concluded they had gotten into a "hornet's nest" and betook themselves down the road as fast as our cavalry and gun horses scampered up.

One of our scouts being mortally wounded, three of us went after him, put him in a "pressed" cart and brought him where our infantry was, but he, poor fellow, died whilst we were putting him in the cart. We then put Dreux's body in the same cart and mournfully wended our way back to Young's Mill, where the remainder of Dreux's Battalion met us, perfectly overwhelmed with grief, for he was Charley Dreux with the humblest private in the ranks and the idol of his command. In the afternoon it was reported the Yankees were advancing upon Young's Mill, but it turned out to be a false alarm.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 104-7

Diary of Private William S. White, June 16, 1861

Our position here, at Bethel, is not considered very tenable, as it is very easily flanked, but so far the enemy has shewn no disposition to make any advances.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 101

Diary of Private William S. White, June 17, 1861

A Dinwiddie trooper was shot to-day by a Georgian, through mistake, wounded slightly. Sent a howitzer with mounted men and a strong guard of cavalry to New Market Bridge, near Hampton, to reconnoitre. Saw a small body of the enemy, but too far off to get a shot at them. The enemy, under cover of a flag of truce, sent for the bodies of Major Winthrop and Lieutenant Greble, who fell in the battle of Bethel. The body of the former was found, and of course their request granted, but the body of the latter could not be found.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 101

Diary of Private William S. White, June 18, 1861

Magruder arrived at Bethel Church a few hours since, and right glad were we to see him, for “Old Mac," as we call him, has our fullest confidence. Sent my "detachment," mounted, with a guard of cavalry to New Market Bridge to reconnoitre. Results: procured two cart loads of corn, one spade and two shovels, shot at one of our own videttes, but didn't hit him, as he ran too fast. We could have been easily cut off had the Yankees possessed any daring.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 101

Diary of Private William S. White, June 19, 1861

A BIG SCAMPER.

Reported by our videttes that the enemy, ten thousand strong, were moving rapidly on the Warwick road, and would attack us from the rear.

Magruder instantly ordered a retreat, and the troops made very quick time for men not frightened.

There was a good deal of hard swearing, some throwing away of baggage, and in fact a little touch of stampede, but when we reached Yorktown the ten thousand Yankees turned out to be only a marauding party of some fifty or more.

Hardly had we gotten into Yorktown when my detachment was ordered to return to Bethel, with a squadron of cavalry, to guard a wagon train sent back to recover the stores left there.

This time we were mounted but were pretty well broken down when we reached Bethel, as the train moved very slowly. Upon reaching the church I had the good fortune to find a cold boiled ham, and with the aid of ship crackers, I soon made a good square meal. As soon as we loaded up the wagon train, we started back for Yorktown; being much fatigued and very sleepy I could scarcely keep my seat in the saddle. A fifteen mile march, and a thirty mile ride on horseback, in one day is no easy matter.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 101-2

Diary of Private William S. White, June 20, 1861

Reached Yorktown early this morning so wearied and fatigued I could hardly hold my head up. Slept three or four hours on the ground and woke up feeling but little refreshed.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 102

Diary of Private William S. White, June 21, 1861

Nothing of importance stirring—very hot and rather hard to get anything to eat unless one's pocket is well lined with Confederate money and then you can get any quantity of prime fish and oysters, with an occasional "snifter" to aid digestion. Our men seem disposed to find fault with everything—continually quarreling among themselves, and seem disposed to fight something.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 102

Diary of Private William S. White, June 22, 1861

Early this morning we were awakened by a heavy wind storm and we had as much as we could do to keep our tents from being blown away. Sent off a gun from Brown's Second Company on a scouting expedition.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 102

Diary of Private William S. White, June 23, 1861

Everything quiet—no signs of the enemy and I do not think they will make an attempt against Yorktown unless with a much larger force than they have at Fortress Monroe. Several small schooners have run the blockade and arrived at this port.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 102

Diary of Private William S. White, June 24, 1861

Twenty-one years of age to-day! Little did I think this time last year that I would be here now, and in arms against the United States government.

No—then other and brighter prospects filled my mind, but, alas! those bright dreams of the future have been long since dispelled and years of bloody war face me now.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 102-3