A Woman's Diary Of The Siege Of Vicksburg: May 1, 1863

It is settled at last that we shall spend the time of siege in Vicksburg. Ever since we were deprived of our cave, I had been dreading that H–– would suggest sending me to the country, where his relatives lived. As he could not leave his position and go also without being conscripted, and as I felt certain an army would get between us, it was no part of my plan to be obedient. A shell from one of the practicing mortars brought the point to an issue yesterday and settled it. Sitting at work as usual, listening to the distant sound of bursting shells, apparently aimed at the court-house, there suddenly came a nearer explosion; the house shook, and a tearing sound was followed by terrified screams from the kitchen. I rushed thither, but met in the hall the cook's little girl America, bleeding from a wound in the forehead, and fairly dancing with fright and pain, while she uttered fearful yells. I stopped to examine the wound, and her mother bounded in, her black face ashy from terror. "Oh! Miss V––, my child is killed and the kitchen tore up." Seeing America was too lively to be a killed subject, I consoled Martha and hastened to the kitchen. Evidently a shell had exploded just outside, sending three or four pieces through. When order was restored I endeavored to impress on Martha's mind the necessity for calmness and the uselessness of such excitement. Looking round at the close of the lecture, there stood a group of Confederate soldiers laughing heartily at my sermon and the promising audience I had. They chimed in with a parting chorus:

“Yes, it's no use hollerin, old lady.”

“Oh! H––,” I exclaimed, as he entered soon after, “America is wounded.”

“That is no news; she has been wounded by traitors long ago.”

“Oh, this is real, living, little, black America; I am not talking in symbols. Here are the pieces of shell, the first bolt of the coming siege.”

“Now you see,” he replied, “that this house will be but paper to mortar-shells. You must go in the country.”

The argument was long, but when a woman is obstinate and eloquent, she generally conquers. I came off victorious, and we finished preparations for the siege to-day. Hiring a man to assist, we descended to the wine-cellar, where the accumulated bottles told of the “banquet-hall deserted,” the spirit and glow of the festive hours whose lights and garlands were dead, and the last guest long since departed. To empty this cellar was the work of many hours. Then in the safest corner a platform was laid for our bed, and in another portion one arranged for Martha. The dungeon, as I call it, is lighted only by a trap-door, and is so damp it will be necessary to remove the bedding and mosquito-bars every day. The next question was of supplies. I had nothing left but a sack of rice-flour, and no manner of cooking I had heard or invented contrived to make it eatable. A column of recipes for making delicious preparations of it had been going the rounds of Confederate papers. I tried them all; they resulted only in brick-bats, or sticky paste. H–– sallied out on a hunt for provisions, and when he returned the disproportionate quantity of the different articles obtained provoked a smile. There was a hogshead of sugar, a barrel of sirup, ten pounds of bacon and peas, four pounds of wheat-flour, and a small sack of com-meal, a little vinegar, and actually some spice! The wheat-flour he purchased for ten dollars as a special favor from the sole remaining barrel for sale. We decided that must be kept for sickness. The sack of meal, he said, was a case of corruption, through a special providence to us. There is no more for sale at any price, but, said he, “a soldier who was hauling some of the Government sacks to the hospital offered me this for five dollars, if I could keep a secret. When the meal is exhausted perhaps we can keep alive on sugar. Here are some wax candles; hoard them like gold.” He handed me a parcel containing about two pounds of candles, and left me to arrange my treasures. It would be hard for me to picture the memories those candles called up. The long years melted away, and I

“Trod again my childhood's track

And felt its very gladness.”

In those childish days, whenever came dreams of household splendor or festal rooms or gay illuminations, the lights in my vision were always wax candles burning with a soft radiance that enchanted every scene. * * * And, lo! here on this spring day of '63, with war raging through the land, I was in a fine house, and had my wax candles sure enough, but, alas! they were neither cerulean blue nor rose-tinted, but dirty brown; and when I lighted one, it spluttered and wasted like any vulgar tallow thing, and lighted only a desolate scene in the vast handsome room. They were not so good as the waxen rope we had made in Arkansas. So, with a long sigh for the dreams of youth, I return to the stern present in this besieged town, my only consolation to remember the old axiom, “A city besieged is a city taken,” — so if we live through it we shall be out of the Confederacy. H–– is very tired of having to carry a pass around in his pocket and go every now and then to have it renewed. We have been so very free in America, these restrictions are irksome.

SOURCE: George W. Cable, “A Woman's Diary Of The Siege Of Vicksburg”, The Century Illustrated Monthly Magazine, Vol. XXX, No. 5, September 1885, p. 769-70

A Woman's Diary Of The Siege Of Vicksburg: April 2, 1863

We have had to move, and thus lost our cave. The owner of the house suddenly returned and notified us that he intended to bring his family back; didn't think there'd be any siege. The cost of the cave could go for the rent. That means he has got tired of the Confederacy and means to stay here and thus get out of it. This house was the only one to be had. It was built by ex-Senator G–––, and is so large our tiny household is lost in it. We only use the lower floor. The bell is often rung by persons who take it for a hotel and come beseeching food at any price. To-day one came who would not be denied. “We do not keep a hotel, but would willingly feed hungry soldiers if we had the food.” “I have been traveling all night and am starving; will pay any price for just bread.” I went to the dining-room and found some biscuits, and set out two, with a large piece of corn-bread, a small piece of bacon, some nice sirup, and a pitcher of water. I locked the door of the safe and left him to enjoy his lunch. After he left I found he had broken open the safe and taken the remaining biscuits.

SOURCE: George W. Cable, “A Woman's Diary Of The Siege Of Vicksburg”, The Century Illustrated Monthly Magazine, Vol. XXX, No. 5, September 1885, p. 768

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Tuesday, April 14, 1863

When we roused up at 4 A.M. we found our clothes saturated with the heavy dew; also that, notwithstanding our exertions, the hogs had devoured the greatest part of our pet kid, our only fresh meat.

After feeding our mules upon the Indian corn we had brought with us, and drinking a little more saltwater coffee, the Judge “hitched in,” and we got under way at 5.30 A.M. The country just the same as yesterday — a dead level of sand, mosquite trees, and prickly pears.

At 7.30 A.M. we reached “Leatham's ranch,” and watered our mules. As the water was tolerable, we refilled our water-barrels. I also washed my face, during which operation Mr. Sargent expressed great astonishment, not unmingled with contempt.

At Leatham's we met a wealthy Texan speculator and contractor called Major or Judge Hart.

I find that our Judge is also an M.P., and that, in his capacity as a member of the Texan legislature, he is entitled to be styled the Honourable —— ——.

At 9 A.M. we halted in the middle of a prairie, on which there was a little grass for the mules, and we prepared to eat. In the midst of our cooking, two deer came up quite close to us, and could easily have been killed with rifles.

We saw quantities of rat-ranches, which are big sort of mole-hills, composed of cow-dung, sticks, and earth, built by the rats.

Mr. Sargent, our conductor, is a very rough customer — a fat, middle-aged man, who never opens his mouth without an oath, strictly American in its character. He and the judge are always snarling at one another, and both are much addicted to liquor.

We live principally on bacon and coffee, but as the water and the bacon are both very salt, this is very inconvenient. We have, however, got some claret, and plenty of brandy.

During the mid-day halts Mr. Sargent is in the habit of cooling himself by removing his trousers (or pants), and, having gorged himself, he lies down and issues his edicts to the judge as to the treatment of the mules.

At 2.30 the M.P. hitched in again, and at 2.45 we reached a salt-water arm of the sea called the “Aroyo del Colorado,” about eighty yards broad, which we crossed in a ferry-boat. Half an hour later we “struck water” again, which, being superior to Leatham's, we filled up.

We are continually passing cotton trains going to Brownsville, also government waggons with stores for the interior. Near every well is a small farm or ranch, a miserable little wooden edifice surrounded by a little cultivation. The natives all speak Spanish, and wear the Mexican dress.

M'Carthy is very proud of his knowledge of the country, in spite of which he is often out in his calculations. The different tracks are so similar to one another, they are easily mistaken.

At 4.45 P.M. we halted at a much better place than yesterday. We are obliged to halt where a little grass can be found for our mules.

Soon after we had unpacked for the night, six Texan Rangers, of “Wood's” regiment, rode up to us. They were very picturesque fellows; tall, thin, and ragged, but quite gentlemanlike in their manners.

We are always to sleep in the open until we arrive at San Antonio, and I find my Turkish lantern most useful at night.*

_______________

* A lantern for a candle, made of white linen and wire, which collapses when not in use. They are always used in the streets of Constantinople. The Texans admired it immensely.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three months in the southern states: April-June, 1863, p. 27-9

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: March 10, 1864

There has been much excitement in Richmond about Kilpatrick's and Dahlgren's raids, and the death of the latter. The cannon roared around the city, the alarm-bell rang, the reserves went out; but Richmond was safe, and we felt no alarm. As usual, they did all the injury they could to country-people, by pillaging and burning. They steal every thing they can; but the people have become very adroit in hiding. Bacon, flour, etc., are put in most mysterious places; plate and handsome china are kept under ground; horses are driven into dense woods, and the cattle and sheep are driven off. It is astonishing, though much is taken, how much is left. I suppose the raiders are too much hurried for close inspection.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 255

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Sunday, February 5, 1865

The atmosphere is clear and it is getting quite warm. We remained in our rifle pits all day, but had to put up our shelter tents, for we actually suffered from the heat. All is quiet in front. We had company inspection this morning and dress parade in the evening. We drew two days' rations to last ten days, but we have an abundance of forage. The boys brought in smoked bacon by the wagon load, also great quantities of corn meal, sweet potatoes, honey and other good things.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 250-1

Diary of 5th Sergeant Alexander G. Downing: Monday, February 6, 1865

The weather changed again, and we had a rather cold, drizzling rain nearly all day. We left our trenches at 7 o'clock this morning and were all day in marching ten miles, the country being so very swampy. We had a great deal of corduroy to build, and the rebels blocked our way by burning a bridge over a deep channel in the swamp. There was some skirmishing in the front. We were ordered to leave all our surplus bacon in the company parade ground, and the quartermaster would send a wagon with the extra forage for us; but we were skeptical and carried all that our haversacks would hold.¹

_______________

¹ Our company alone left a load of the finest bacon, besides other articles. It was the last we saw of our store of surplus forage. We learned later that the officers took that way of having the forage left for the negroes and poor people of the vicinity, for we had cleaned the vicinity of everything. — A. G. D.

Source: Alexander G. Downing, Edited by Olynthus B., Clark, Downing’s Civil War Diary, p. 251

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: December 12, 1863

To-day I was examined on arithmetic — “Denominate numbers, vulgar and decimal fractions, tare and tret,” etc., etc., by Major Brewer, of the Commissary Department. I felt as if I had returned to my childhood. But for the ridiculousness of the thing, I dare say I should have been embarrassed. On Monday I am to enter on the duties of the office. We are to work from nine till three.

We have just received from our relatives in the country some fine Irish and sweet potatoes, cabbages, butter, sausages, chines, and a ham; and from a friend in town two pounds of very good green tea. These things are very acceptable, as potatoes are twelve dollars per bushel, pork and bacon two dollars fifty cents per pound, and good tea at twenty-five dollars per pound. How are the poor to live? Though it is said that the poor genteel are the real sufferers. Money is laid aside for paupers by every one who can possibly do it, but persons who do not let their wants be known are the really poor.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 247

Francis H. Wigfall, April 29, 1864

. . . There was a review to-day of all the infantry and artillery of the army. The reviewing officer was Gen. Johnston, who rode down the line, halting opposite each brigade to receive its salute. He then took his position and the troops marched in review past him. Mrs. Johnston was there and a good many other ladies and I expect enjoyed the spectacle though the wind was high and the dust insufferable. Mrs. Johnston spoke to-day of your and Fanny's being with her this summer. I have no doubt you will have a very pleasant time indeed, and if the Army is inactive I shall doubtless be able to run down to see you. . . .

We are barely managing to exist on the third of a pound of bacon. We keep up our spirits however, and hope for the time when Congress shall intervene in our behalf and satisfy the Oliver Twists of the Army. A friend of one of our mess the other day sent a turkey and you should have seen our countenances as we prepared to devour him. . . . .

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 175

Francis H. Wigfall, April 9, 1864

April 9.

. . . The sham battle of General Hardee's Corps took place on Thursday, and was witnessed by a large number of ladies from all parts of the State. There was a party of them at Gen. Hood's for several days and the evening after the battle we had a dance at Hd. Qurs. to which was gathered “the beauty and the chivalry.” It was a decided success and was almost fashionably crowded. I indulged slightly in the galop and deuxtemps and wish L. could have seen me. There are to be some tableaux a few miles below here at a country house on the railroad Monday evening, to which the General and his staff are invited. I expect there will be a good deal of gaiety in Dalton, (that is, for the army) until the war begins, which from all appearance is as far off as ever. Tell Papa that the army is very much “down on” Congress for the ration bill and ask him to be sure and have it remedied as soon as the session begins. I have heard several plans proposed by officers for inviting one or two members of Congress now with the army to a “one ration a day dinner.” Something of this sort, for instance: The entertainer would be very generous and have the whole day's ration served for dinner. He would divide the pound and a quarter of meal, the quarter of a pound of hominy and the third of a pound of bacon into three parts and give his guest one, take one himself and set one aside for his servant. However, we all live in hope of the better time coming.

SOURCE: Louise Wigfall Wright, A Southern Girl in ’61, p. 174-5

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: January 9, 1862

Butter is 50 cts. per pound, bacon 25 cts., beef has risen from 13 cts. to 30 cts., wood is selling for $8 per cord, but flour is abundant, and cheap enough to keep us from starving.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 104

Diary of Luman Harris Tenney: May 5, 1862

Went out with Lt. McGowan after bacon. Went 14 miles. Saw the Challes-Louise. Enjoyed seeing the family again — talkative as ever. Took some hams from Mr. Robertson's and some others. Went to Mr. Webb's. Got some apples. Had a good time all around. Got back to camp at ten P. M. Major cross.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 13

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: Monday, June 7, 1864 – Second Entry

A courier has brought in the intelligence that Averill's force is at Jordan's Furnace, between 20 and 30 miles from this, and advancing this way. That the force engaged with Jones was not Averill's: probably Crooke's. People are more certain to-day of "the Yankees coming" than they have been at all yet, because there is not a soldier between them and us, and if they chose to ride into Lexington to-night, there is not a thing to hinder them, all the Confederates having passed on to Staunton or its neighborhood. Mr. P. is as busy as he can be, getting things at the V. M. I. moved away. The library has been carried to the College. As the Institute is Government property, they will most likely burn it; that, at all events, is what we apprehend. We have hidden our own valuables to some extent; and Mr. P. is having his bacon hauled into the mountains. Yet the enemy may not come; we have expected them so often when they didn't come, that we may be delivered again. Gen. Elzey has passed on to Lynchburg to-day.

Later: At half past four o'clock we went to the daily prayer-meeting. Dr. White gave us what information he had been able to collect; told us that the enemy was certainly on his way hither; but inculcated calm reliance upon God; said the force advancing would not reach us today; and appointed the meeting for to-morrow, saying that we should come, unless it was dangerous for ladies to be upon the street. As we went from the Lecture Room, three couriers rode up, and the street was crowded from one pavement to the other. We found that Imboden, Jackson, and McCausland are all with their small forces falling back; that the enemy took possession of Staunton yesterday at one o'clock; burnt a large factory and the railroad Depot; and it is said the Virginia Hotel; and were advancing this way. All was such commotion as I have never seen in Lexington; people moving flour, goods, &c.; driving out their cow ; ladies flying about in a high state of excitement. A little while after I reached home, in came E. and Mr. W. from Brownsburg, fugitives from the enemy. E.'s carriage was broken, so he could not bring his wife and children to us; but he took them and the servants over to Mrs. W.'s; moved out his bacon, and what flour he had, shut up his house, and left it to its fate. At his church on Sunday, a courier arrived, and demanded in the name of Gen. McC. that the citizens should turn out en masse and blockade two of the mountain passes. E. went with them; spent all Sunday night cutting down trees, and was near enough to Crooke's camp to hear the band; almost to distinguish the tunes; heard ten reveilles, which would indicate ten regiments; saw the camp fires. When he left home, McC. had passed his house coming this way; the enemy was several miles above Brownsburg. Agnes is pretty brave; she was willing to be left alone in the house, the only white person, with her little children. All her anxiety was to get E. off. I was busy until ten o'clock getting off our bacon and flour, which E. tells me the enemy is taking all along the route.

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 184-6

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: June 6, 1864

No sooner is one alarm over than another comes. Mr. P. took me down to the hospital this morning, to see some wounded cadets, one of whom was wounded in seven places, and will probably die. As we returned, and were stopping at Mr. Sam Moore's, to see a V. M. I. professor who had a piece of his skull grooved out by a minnie ball, we were startled by the news that the enemy were at Milboro'. We reached the church just as the services were closing, so did not go in. Found that Gen. W. E. Jones's command was approaching the town, only two miles out. At dusk, in walked Capt. George Junkin and another officer; they belong to Jones' division, and have left their companies five miles out, to come in and pass the night with us. We were just about to have our bread and milk supper handed; but of course more substantial fare had to be prepared for tired soldiers; so we all had real coffee, biscuits, and bacon; a royal repast for these times. . . .

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 182-3

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: June 3, 1864

All was quietness with us yesterday; today we are all in excitement and alarm. A courier has come in with news that the enemy is this side of Covington (40 miles off), and is advancing, and no force that we know of between us and them. General J. is somewhere out there. Again we hear that the Yankees are 17 miles from Staunton; so that we are between two fires. People are busy packing up silver and valuables; negroes are coming in from west of us; and all is distraction. The few men here are going out to-night to join J. if they can find him. They are more likely to be taken prisoners, it seems to me. Mr. P. is not well; has had fever every day since his return home; yet he goes out to-night, and will be in the saddle all night. He is making arrangements to have our bacon and flour hidden away, and his stock driven over the mountain. My heart sinks within me. Are we to experience what so many others have suffered? God deliver us! Let our help be in Thee!

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 182

Diary of Luman Harris Tenney: April 23, 1862

Slept until ten o'clock. Commenced letter to Fannie. Brooks went out and got a load of hams and bacon.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 12

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: July 21, 1864

The sun came up this morning bright and warm. The morning finds us in the same woods where we passed the night. A foraging party, sent out last night from our regiment, returned with flour, bacon, hams. The officers appropriated the best sugar-cured hams. Late in the night the hams were taken from the officers' mess. No one seemed to know what became of them. Officers put up a great kick, were mad through and through. Of course the boys were all innocent. Punishment was in store for the rascals who stole the hams. A fine nice piece found its way into my haversack. I did not put it there but thought I could guess who did. I did not ask any questions. It sure was good to eat.

I visited the river to take a look at the place where we crossed during the battle of the 18th. Thought it another case of mismanagement, although it did seem at times that men must be sacrificed in order to find out the plans and location of the enemy. No troops should have crossed that river at the time without being well supported. That was the way we felt about it. The bed of the river was the grave of some of our boys. Marching orders for early tomorrow morning. Hope to get a good night's rest.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 102-3

Diary of Margaret Junkin Preston: April 14, 1863

We hear much of the danger of the army being starved Out of Virginia. Mr. P. has let the Government have every pound of bacon he can spare, after putting his family on short allowance. The town is crowded with refugees; heard of four families today; one is a mother with eight children, one of them twenty months old, and one four weeks; they had to fly from their homes. Such distresses as we do hear of continually; it is a wonder we dare to feel any thing like happiness. Oh! when will the war cease!

SOURCE: Elizabeth Preston Allan, The Life and Letters of Margaret Junkin Preston, p. 161

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Sophia Birchard Hayes, November 25, 1861

Camp Union, Fayetteville, Virginia,

November 25, 1861.

Dear Mother: — I have just read your letter written at Delaware, and am glad to know you are so happy with Arcena and the other kind friends. You may feel relieved of the anxiety you have had about me.

After several days of severe marching, camping on the ground without tents, once in the rain and once on the snow, we have returned from a fruitless chase after Floyd's Rebel army, and are now comfortably housed in the deserted dwellings of a beautiful village. We have no reports of any enemy near us and are preparing for winter. We should quarter here if the roads to the head of navigation would allow. As it is we shall probably go to a steamboat landing on the Kanawha. Snow is now three or four inches deep and still falling. We are on high ground — perhaps a thousand feet above the Kanawha River — and twelve miles from Gauley Mountain.

Our troops are very healthy. We have here in my regiment six hundred and sixty-two men of whom only three are seriously ill. Perhaps fifteen others are complaining so as to be excused from guard duty. The fever which took down so many of our men has almost disappeared. . . .

This is a rugged mountain region, with large rushing rivers of pure clear water (we drink it at Cincinnati polluted by the Olentangy and Scioto) and full of the grandest scenery I have ever beheld. I rode yesterday over Cotton Hill and along New River a distance of thirty miles. I was alone most of the day, and could enjoy scenes made still wilder by the wintry storm.

We do not yet hear of any murders by bushwhackers in this part of Virginia, and can go where we choose without apprehension of danger. We meet very few men. The poor women excite our sympathy constantly. A great share of the calamities of war fall on the women. I see women unused to hard labor gathering corn to keep starvation from the door. I am now in command of the post here, and a large part of my time is occupied in hearing tales of distress and trying to soften the ills the armies have brought into this country. Fortunately a very small amount of salt, sugar, coffee, rice, and bacon goes a great ways where all these things are luxuries no longer procurable in the ordinary way. We try to pay for the mischief we do in destroying corn, hay, etc., etc., in this way.

We are well supplied with everything. But clothes are worn out, lost, etc., very rapidly in these rough marches. People disposed to give can't go amiss in sending shoes, boots, stockings, thick shirts and drawers, mittens or gloves, and blankets. Other knickknacks are of small account.

Give my love to Arcena, Sophia, and to Mrs. Kilbourn.

Affectionately,

R. B. Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 146-7

Diary of Judith W. McGuire: May 12, 1862

Just returned from a visit to [Summer Hill]. The family full of patriotism and very bright. While there, dear W’s horse and servant came home. His family bore it well, considering imprisonment the least casualty that could have befallen him. If Richmond is invested, that beautiful country will be in the hands of the enemy; the families (except the gentlemen) will remain at home to protect the property as best they may. They are now sending corn, bacon, etc., into Richmond for safety. None but the croakers believe for an instant that it will fall.

Two hours ago we heard of the destruction of the “Virginia” by our own people. It is a dreadful shock to the community. We can only hope that it was wisely done. Poor Norfolk must be given up. I can write no more to-day.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 112

Diary of Luman Harris Tenney: March 22, 1862

A report circulated that we are to be among the regiments disbanded. Hope not true — prefer to see the thing through without re-enlisting. After all would like a short furlough. Dealt out the bacon. Got a good piece of beef for myself. Heard the wolves howl during the night.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 10