Diary of George Templeton Strong: January 11, 1860

News today of a fearful tragedy at Lawrence, Massachusetts, one of the wholesale murders commonly known in newspaper literature as accident or catastrophe. A huge factory, long notoriously insecure and ill-built, requiring to be patched and bandaged up with iron plates and braces to stand the introduction of its machinery, suddenly collapsed into a heap of ruins yesterday afternoon without the smallest provocation. Some five or six hundred operatives went down with it— young girls and women mostly. An hour or two later, while people were working frantically to dig out some two hundred still under the ruins, many of them alive and calling for help, some quite unhurt, fire caught in the great pile of debris, and these prisoners were roasted. It is too atrocious and horrible to think of.

Of course, nobody will be hanged. Somebody has murdered about two hundred people, many of them with hideous torture, in order to save money, but society has no avenging gibbet for the respectable millionaire and homicide. Of course not. He did not want to or mean to do this massacre; on the whole, he would have preferred to let these people live. His intent was not homicidal. He merely thought a great deal about making a large profit and very little about the security of human life. He did not compel these poor girls and children to enter his accursed mantrap. They could judge and decide for themselves whether they would be employed there. It was a matter of contract between capital and labor; they were to receive cash payment for their services. No doubt the legal representatives of those who have perished will be duly paid the fractional part of their week’s wages up to the date when they became incapacitated by crushing or combustion, as the case may be, from rendering further service. Very probably the wealthy and liberal proprietor will add (in deserving cases) a gratuity to defray funeral charges. It becomes us to prate about the horrors of slavery! What Southern capitalist trifles with the lives of his operatives as do our philanthropes of the North?

SOURCE: Allan Nevins and Milton Halset Thomas, Editors, Diary of George Templeton Strong, Vol. 3, p. 4

Diary of Musician David Lane, June 16, 1863

At about four o'clock this afternoon we met two of our gunboats near Napoleon, Mississippi, who told us they had just dislodged a Rebel battery planted on the shore, and had burned two small villages. Thinking it not safe to proceed, our fleet was hauled inshore, a strong guard was posted and pickets stationed on shore to prevent surprise. Most of the men threw themselves down, their arms beside them, to rest as best they might. Some few had gone ashore and were enjoying a social chat around their blazing camp fires, while the more restless ones were working off the effects of the bad whisky they had imbibed during the day with boisterous, hilarious merriment. It was half-past ten; feeling wakeful, I had not retired, but sat on the railing of the vessel, talking over past events with a friend from Jackson. Presently two rifle shots rang out, followed by a volley from our pickets. Then was there hurrying to and fro. The men sprang instinctively to arms. Officers rushed from their rooms in dishabille, the timid crouched behind anything that offered the slightest protection. Confusion reigned. But soon our Colonel appeared, cool and collected, calm as a summer eve. "Steady, men, stand by your arms and wait orders." More pickets were sent out and we patiently awaited the attack. But it did not come. It was, probably, an attempt by some cowardly wretches to murder one or two of our pickets and escape under cover of darkness. No one was hurt. We started soon after daylight, convoyed by two gunboats, prepared for any emergency, and expecting fun. One gunboat led the way, the other followed in our rear, their bright little guns portruding from their coalblack sides. They have a jaunty, saucy air, that seems to say: "Just knock this chip off my shoulder, if you dare." We were all excitement for a while, eagerly scanning every tree or log, thinking to see a puff of smoke or a "cracker's" head at every turn. Seeing nothing for so long a time, we began to think it all a hoax, when suddenly, as we rounded a point, running close inshore, the transport in front of us was fired on by a concealed foe. Their fire was instantly returned, and the saucy little gunboats rounded to and gave them a broadside of grape, followed by shell, at short range. Our boys were quickly in line, watching with eager eyes for Rebel heads. Fortunately not a man was injured on either vessel. A sad accident occurred this afternoon. A young man of Company H was standing guard at the head of the stairs. He stood on the upper step, leaning on his gun. It slipped and the hammer struck the step below. The bullet passed through his stomach and lodged near the spine.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 50-2

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne: Saturday, October 11, 1862

Before daylight. We have been turned out, for some purpose, and are standing in line with our guns and accoutrements on.

Later. Are back in quarters, waiting to see what comes next. It has at last begun to rain and has every appearance of keeping it up. I don't suppose it will interfere with our movements, though it can make it unpleasant for us.

8 a. m. The papers have come, and say Stuart's Cavalry have invaded Pennsylvania, and are taking all the horses they can lay hands on.

Later. We have orders to pack up two days' rations, and have just been given forty rounds of ammunition. Begins to look like business now, We are in line waiting for further orders, and I am improving the time by keeping my diary right plump up to the minute. One man is missing, absent without leave. Not a soul of us knows which way we are to go or what for. If we were mounted I would think we were going to stop Stuart's horse-stealing, but as we are on foot that can hardly be.

Noon. At the foot of Biddle Street, Baltimore, waiting for transportation. From all I can learn, our movements depend on dispatches from some higher authority, yet to be received. Major Foster's horse fell and hurt the major's leg, but he has caught up with us, though he has quite a limp.

Night. Here we sit, or stand, just as we choose, still waiting for a train. It has rained nearly all day, and we are wet and cold, and everyone is cross, even to the officers. Just then our regimental post-master caught up with us, and gave me a letter from Mrs. Loucks, also one from uncle Daniel. My sister says a box of good things is on the way for us. Too bad it didn't come before we left. No telling whether we get it now or not. Well, such is war.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 47-8

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Wedesday, December 11, 1861

While going to a drill, through Poolesville, on trot, Corporal Burrows was thrown off the limber-chest, and his leg broken by a wheel passing over him.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, p. 27-8

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Benjamin F. Pearson, September 19, 1862

I rested none last night with my boil & feel bad. We drilled some evening MH Hare preached to our Reg at our Rendesvouse I closed by Prayer after Service a man in the 30th Reg was shot in the thy by a small pistol catrige & person that commited not yet found 9 Oc I went to mr Pecks & set on a chair all night bile bad

SOURCE: Edgar R. Harlan, Currator, Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 15, No. 2, October 1925, p. 89-90

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, September 6, 1861

I introduce the following letter to a friend, as sufficiently explicit as to the occurrences since the last date:

CHAIN BRIDGE, VA., Sept. 6, 1861.

 

I commence this letter with the reiteration, Poor Virginia! That State, which for forty years has stood as the guiding star of our galaxy of States,—that State, which alone could, six months ago, have assumed the position of umpire to the belligerents, and which only would have been respected in the assumption—now stands at the very foot of the list. In the commencement of this contest she degraded herself by offering to become the cat's paw for South Carolina, and was still farther degraded by South Carolina rejecting the proposition to become her menial. By her officious subservience, however, she got her paw into the fire, and how dreadfully it is burned only those who are on her soil can form any idea. Everywhere is the destruction going on. Her soil is the battle-field, and, so far as the destruction of property is concerned, it matters but little which party is successful. Armies must have room to move and manœuvre, soldiers will have the fruits and vegetables which grow around their encampment, and camp life is a poor fertilizer of that moral growth which marks the line of "meum et tuum."

This letter is written on sheets taken from the former residence of Hon. W. W. Slade, once a member of Congress from Virginia. I rode around with a foraging party. We entered his fine old mansion, and I could not but weep over the sad changes which I could see had taken place within a few hours, Within no living soul was left. The soldiers entered; for a time I stood back, but when I did go in what a sight presented itself! Already the floors were covered knee-deep with books and papers, which it must have required a long life of toil and trouble to amass, fine swinging-mirrors shivered into thousands of pieces—a fit emblem of the condition to which efforts are being made to reduce this glorious government—each piece reflecting miniature images of what the whole had shown, but never again to reflect those pigmy images in one vast whole. In the large and spacious drawing-room stood the ruins of one of those old-fashioned sideboards, around which had grown so much of the reputation of Southern high life and hospitality; its doors, wrenched from their hinges, lay scattered on the floor; large mahogany sofas, with their covers torn off, marble-top tables, stationery, china, stoves and spittoons, were there in one promiscuous heap of ruins. I stepped into the library, hoping to bring away some relic that had been untouched by the soldiers, but I was too late—all here was ruin. In a corner I picked up a few yellow pamphlets, and read "Constitution and By-Laws of the National Democratic Association." Sadly enough I left the house, and seated myself, to rest and think, on the spacious verandah. For a moment I looked on the vast orchards, the beautiful flower garden, the long rows of laden grape vines, the broad acres of corn and clover, and thought, "What a place and what a condition to pass old age in comfort and quiet," and my heart began to lighten. How momentary the lightning, for just then company after company from the different regiments came up; gates were thrown open, fences thrown down, and horses, cattle and mules were destroying all these evidences of prosperity and comfort. And this is but one feature in the great haggard countenance of war which stares at us whenever we look at Virginia's "sacred soil." Alas, poor Virginia! This subject alone would give interest to a whole volume, but I must leave it.

On Tuesday night, at half-past ten o'clock, the "long roll" brought our brigade, of five regiments, to their feet, when we found ourselves under orders to march at once for the Virginia side of the river, where, it was said, a large body of rebels had been collecting just at night. We had had slight skirmishing in that neighborhood for several days, and now the crisis was expected, and our regiment was to have a chance. All was excitement, and in half an hour from the alarm we were ready to start. By the time we arrived here it had commenced raining—we found no enemy—bivouaced for the night, and slept in the rain to the music of the tramp, tramp of infantry, and the rattling, roaring tear of artillery wagons over the roughly macademized road which passed by our encampment. Yesterday it rained all day, as if every plug had been pulled out; still we kept on our arms and ready for action—our general and brigade officers dashing about all the time, and warning us to be ready for an attack. Day before yesterday a scouting party of our brigade went in pursuit of a party of cavalry who had been seen hovering about us. When they came in sight the cavalry took to their heels, leaving to us only three large contrabands, who "tink massa oughten to run away from poor nigga so, heah! heah! They just run and leab us to de mercy of de darn abolishuns, heah! heah!" They report that around Fairfax and Centreville there are sixty or seventy regiments, who are well provisioned, but that there is a great deal of sickness among them, measles being the prevailing disease. We had, when we left Kalarama, about twenty-five in the hospital, whom we left there under the charge of Dr. There are three or four here who have sickened in consequence of exposure to the two days and two night's rain, but they will be out in a day or two. We have not yet lost a man by disease or accident, though I hear that one man yesterday received a musket ball through his cap, but as it did not hit his head it is thought he will recover. The musket was carelessly fired by some soldier in our camp.

A little occurrence to-day has caused quite a stir in our camps, and I deem it worthy to be noted here for my remembrance. Capt. Strong, of the Second Regiment of Wisconsin Volunteers, was with a small party on picket guard. He strolled away from his company, and suddenly found himself surrounded by six of the rebel pickets. Being out of reach of help from his men, he surrendered himself a prisoner. After a short consultation as to whether they should kill the "d----d Yankee" on the spot, they concluded that they would first take him into camp. They demanded his pistols, which he took from his belt and presented. But at the moment when the rebels were receiving them, they both went off, killing two of his captors on the spot. But there were four left, two on foot, two on horseback. He dashed into a pine thicket, they discharging their pieces after him and immediately giving chase. He struck into a deep hollow or ravine leading down to the Potomac. It was so precipitous that the horsemen could not follow. But when he emerged from it near the river; he found himself confronted by the two horsemen who had ridden around and reached the spot in time to head him off. He had received a shot through his canteen. Immediately on seeing his pursuers he fired again, killing one more of them, and simultaneously he received another shot through his cheek. He continued firing with his revolvers till he had made in all eleven shots. By this time the fourth man had been unhorsed. The footmen did not pursue, and he made his way into camp. This is the story, though some are so uncharitable as to discredit it, notwithstanding one hole through his canteen and another through his cheek.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 21-5

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 Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, September 29, 1862

CAMP MILLINGTON, BALTIMORE. On account of the heat we were not taken out for drill to-day. We have cleaned up our quarters, for since getting our new and comfortable tents we are quite particular about appearances. There is a friendly rivalry as to which of the ten companies shall have the neatest quarters. All being exactly alike to start with, it depends upon us to keep them neat and shipshape. The cooks have tents as well as we, and altogether we are quite another sort from what we were a week ago. It has been a regular clean up day with us. The brook below us has carried off dirt enough from our clothing and bodies to make a garden. While we were there close beside the railroad, a train loaded with soldiers halted, and while we were joking with the men, someone fired a pistol from another passing train, and a sergeant on the standing train was killed—whether it was by accident or purposely done, no one knows; or whether the guilty one will be found out and punished, no one of us can tell. But I wonder so few accidents do happen. There are hundreds of revolvers in camp and many of them in the hands of those who know no better how to use them than a child.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 40-1

Diary of Private Edward W. Crippin, August 31, 1861

Camp Defiance Cairo Ills. Roll call, Squad drill this morning. after breakfast men set to work-cleaning up the groun[d.] Repeated firing of cannon in the artillery drill at Birds Point-One man nearly killed by the discharge of a cannon Morning report made out and handed in at Head Quarters 2 men in addition to last report—Aggregate No. of men in Parkes comp now 98. both sworn into the service by the Col. Rations of bread short this morning through the rascality or neglect of the Quartermaster—great dissatisfaction throughout the camp on account of it. Col. saw to the matter and bread here by half after 8 O'clock tonight.

SOURCE: Transactions of the Illinois State Historical Society for the Year 1909, p. 224

Diary of Private Louis Leon: June 12, 1864

To-day, as the negro guard was relieved, two of them commenced playing with their guns and bayonets, sticking at one another. Fortunately one of their guns, by accident, went off and made a hole in the other one's body, which killed him instantly. The other one kicked at him several times, telling him to get up as the rebels were laughing at him, but in a very short time he found out that he had killed his comrade and that we were laughing sure enough.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 66

Diary of Musician David Lane, September 4, 1862

We have been three days in camp, and have fully recovered from the fatigues of our long journey. Drill is the order of the day, as it is the necessity of the hour. Officers and men have yet to learn the rudiments of military maneuvering. There is not a company officer who can put his men through company drill without making one—or more—ludicrous blunders. Yesterday our First Lieutenant was drilling a squad of men. He was giving all his attention to "time," and did not notice a fence had planted itself directly across our path. Suddenly he shouted: "Who—who—who! Come this way, you fellows in front—don't you see you are running into that fence?"

On Monday morning one of the men had been cleaning his gun, and, wishing to know if it would burn a cap, laid it down for the purpose of getting one. When he returned, instead of picking up his own gun, he took a loaded one that belonged to a guard. As a result of his stupidity, the ball passed through two tents, entered a young man's heel and passed through his foot lengthwise, rendering him a cripple for life. Rumors were in circulation all day Tuesday of Rebel movements. At dusk twenty rounds of ammunition were distributed.

We were then sent to our quarters to await orders. A spirit of unrest pervaded the camp. Men gathered in groups and whispered their conviction of a night attack.

At nine o'clock a picket fired an alarm. The bugle sounded "To arms." Orderlies ran up and down the line of tents shouting. "Fall in! Fall in with your arms; the Rebels are upon us!"

For a moment there was some confusion, but in less than five minutes we were in line, eager to meet the foe. But no enemy appeared. It was a ruse gotten up by the officers as an emergency drill, and, as such, it was a decided success. There were some ludicrous incidents, but, as a rule, the men buckled on their arms with promptness and appeared as cool as on dress parade.

Yesterday morning, as we were forming for company drill, a courier rode into camp with dispatches from headquarters. Five companies from our regiment were ordered to repair at once to Fort Gaines, eight miles distant, on the Virginia side of the Potomac. We started off briskly, but before we had gone a mile the order was countermanded, and we returned to camp.

The news this morning is not encouraging. General Pope has been defeated and driven back upon the fortifications around Washington, and the Rebels are trying to force their way across the Potomac. We are under marching orders. Rumor says we are to join Burnside's forces at Frederic City.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 8-9

Diary of Private Adam S. Johnston, October 17, 1861

Left Pittsburgh for Louisville, being ten days in Camp Wilkins, getting equipped and fitted out. Went on board the "Silver Wave" steamboat, and a short time after the front part of the hurricane deck gave way, letting many of our soldiers and musicians fall to the lower deck, hurting two men badly. We moved down the Ohio river three days and three nights, cheered from either shore by hundreds, and safely reached Louisville, Ky., on the 20th of October. Making a march of 625 miles.

SOURCE: Adam S. Johnston, The Soldier Boy's Diary Book, p. 9

Diary of 1st Lieutenant Joseph Stockton, October 15, 1862

Yesterday we had a very large fire here. About 9 o'clock a fire broke out on the commissary boat "Admiral." I was "officer of the day" and was just about to be relieved by Captain Prior. I hastened to the boat but found her so enveloped in smoke that it would be useless to attempt to save her. The fire soon communicated to the store ship "Philadelphia" which had on board a large lot of loaded shell and cartridges. They soon commenced to explode. General Dodge, Post Commander, soon came along and ordered all hands to commence moving boxes of shells and cartridges that were on shore. Soon the shells on the boat commenced to burst and fly all about; several of the men were knocked down. The danger was very great but most of the men stood it well. Both boats were a total loss. The other day when I was "officer of the day" I had charge of the prison in which were a number of rebel prisoners. No one had a right to enter without a permit from the Provost Marshal, the commanding officer of the post or myself. A sickly looking woman with a baby in her arms, a little girl about five years old beside her, came to me and said she had walked thirty miles to see her husband who had been confined two months on charge of being a guerilla. Her wan and dejected appearance confirmed her story and I escorted her to the sick ward where her husband was lying. The moment she saw him she rushed to his cot, threw her arms around him, the little thing climbed up on his bed, and such tears and exclamations of affection I have never heard before. At the same time another prisoner who was confined for the same offence and who was lying directly opposite, died. His friends crowded around his cot and they gave way to their tears and sobs. I could not but turn away and feel the hot tears trickling down my own cheek; there was not a dry eye in that room. I was the only Union soldier present and the wife turned on her knees toward me and begged that I would let her husband go home with her, that he was dying then, as he certainly was. He, too, begged me for his life, but I, of course, was powerless to act in the matter. The friends of the dead man crowded around and begged that they might be permitted to send his body home, which was granted. I was only too glad to get away from such a scene. I have more than my share of such duty as there are only four captains able for duty, all the rest being sick. Making the grand rounds at night, with an orderly for a companion, is not so pleasant when you have to ride through a dense wood for ten or twelve miles. It would be an easy thing for the Rebs to pick me off and I wonder they don't do it. I had a present from home of a box containing cake, preserves, etc., from several of my young lady friends. It was most acceptable.

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

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, August 26, 1862

Mary and I took a long ride, and then I left for Millerton. Saw the effects of a railroad smash up at Cooper's Crossing. The engine and cars were scattered along the front of the embankment and many of them only good for kindling-wood. The carcass of a cow, the cause of the accident, lay in one place and her hide in another. Attended a meeting at Millerton, heard some patriotic speeches and saw lots of people who seemed glad to see me. Was paid the town bounty of $100 and towards night wended my way over the hills home again, and am writing about it in my diary. This is my last night home. To-morrow we are due in Hudson again. I have seen none of the others who came home with me. I suppose each one, like myself, has crowded the time full of visiting, for who knows when we will have another chance? We each try to act as if we had no thought for the morrow, but it is hard work and not very successful.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 10-11

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Monday, June 24, 1861

Grand review of the Rhode Island troops by President Lincoln and Gen. Scott. Marched in front of the White House and through the principal streets of Washington.

From this time up to the 4th of July, nothing of importance occurred; everything went on quiet and pleasant; battery drills and manual of the piece were the usual occupation. Sometimes the long roll would be beat during the night, or guards would fire at some imaginary object of suspicion. On such an occasion a cow was shot.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, p. 8

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Tuesday, July 9, 1861

A sad accident occurred today. At section drill, through some unknown cause, a limber-chest of Lieut. Vaughan's section, filled with cartridges, exploded, while the gunnner Morse, and privates Bourne and Freeman were mounted. They were thrown some twenty feet up in the air. Morse and Bourne died within the space of an hour. Freeman, being badly injured, recovered after a lingering sickness. Two drivers were slightly wounded, and two horses injured. We escorted the bodies of Morse and Bourne to the depot, to be sent to Rhode Island.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, p. 9

Diary of Private Richard R. Hancock: Saturday, December 14, 1861

Captain Bledsoe's Company passed Mr. West's with thirty prisoners. They also took the three that we had been guarding since the 5th. Captain Bledsoe was instructed to take the prisoners to Gainesboro and send them by steamer to Nashville. Captain Wm. L. Horn, Company B, First Battalion, went to Nashville with these prisoners. His horse fell on him while in Nashville and broke his leg, which had to be amputated, and consequently he was not with us any more.

SOURCE: Richard R. Hancock, Hancock's Diary: Or, A History of the Second Tennessee Confederate Cavalry, p. 97

Brigadier-General Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, Sunday, February 12, 1865

CAMP HASTINGS, Sunday, February 12, 1865.

DEAREST:— We reached here after a pleasant journey Thursday evening on time. No important changes here. The remnant of the unlucky Thirty-fourth is now in my camp to be consolidated with the Thirty-sixth. General Duval is quite unwell, and will go to Cincinnati to be treated for troubles affecting his hearing. General Crook has had a ball. I send you a ticket. He inquired after you all, particularly Webb and George. He is in fine health and spirits. He has become a convert to negro soldiers thinks them better than a great part of the sort we are now getting

It is cold, windy, and snowy. My tent groans, squeaks, and flaps. The sleeping is not so comfortable as in a house these days, but is more refreshing and invigorating. The Shenandoah army is all gone. Part of Nineteenth Corps is at Savannah; the Sixth at Richmond and the most of ours. I had a brigade drill yesterday. The regiments are full, and in fine condition. The First Veterans (Twenty-third Regiment) are rather the crack men in appearance. Major Carey has resigned.

Mrs. Comly is here, that is, in town. I have not yet seen her. The cars upset with her near Newark, but she kept on this way instead of going back home. Good stuff. — Love to all.

Affectionately ever,

R.

MRS. HAYES.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 557

Major Charles Wright Wills: March 6, 1865

Five miles northeast of Cheraw, S. C.,

March 6, 1865.

Crossed the Peedee this morning. Just after we passed through the town a 12th Indiana boy seeing some powder scattered on the ground threw a coal on it. It communicated with a concealed ammunition magazine and made a fine explosion, killed and wounded 20 or 30 men in our division, stampeded a lot of horses and burned some citizens. There have been half a dozen of such explosions. Good country here, foragers get plenty, and also pick up many Rebel deserters and stragglers. Our foragers yesterday found two of Kilpatrick's men and five Rebel lieutenants all drunk and put them under guard.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 358

Diary of Private Louis Leon: July 27, 1862

Had a few friends visit us from home, and moved camp twice. To-night we were ordered to fall in line. Went to Petersburg, and there took the cars for Weldon. On the road a dreadful accident occurred. On the flat car that we were on, a captain of the navy with us had his leg cut off by a sheet of iron flying off the flat. Lieutenant McMatthews, Henry Wortheim and myself were knocked down, but not badly hurt. The captain died two days after.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 8-9