Diary of George Templeton Strong, October 1, 1860

The Prince’s ball next week’s the chief topic of the town. The King of Naples has run away and Garibaldi triumphs. The House of Bourbon is on its last legs. John Jay has been making a row in the diocesan convention with a speech on the slave trade, which Mr. Ruggles says was very able. George Anthon suggests an alteration in the prayerbook for the benefit of the “Church South,” namely, in the prayer for persons I going to sea.¹ Instead of "these Thy servants,” add “These our servants,” and instead of “conduct him in safety to the haven where they would be,” read “. . . the haven where they wouldn’t be” (if they could help it, that is). . . .

_______________

¹ That is, for the slaves now being run in from Africa.

SOURCE: Allan Nevins and Milton Halset Thomas, Editors, Diary of George Templeton Strong, Vol. 3, pp. 42-3

Diary of George Templeton Strong, October 2, 1860

Diligent day. Having been put on the reception committee for the Prince of Wales’s ball, I attended a meeting thereof. There were Hamilton Fish, Luther Bradish, Perit, Maunsell Field, Mintum, Cisco, and myself. There was severe prosing on “nice sharp quillets” of etiquette. Bradish and Field were uncommonly solemn and impressive. With what manner of reception shall we receive General Scott? “Can he be separated from his military family?” There’s the rub. Shall we ten reception committeemen dress alike? Shall it be white vests and black cravats or vice versa? Are silk vests considered provincial in Paris? What manner of gloves prevailed at the Tuileries when Governor Fish was there last, and what light is thrown on the whole subject by Bradish’s little souvenirs of court society at the several capitals of Europe? Cisco and I are a sub-committee on the carriages that are to convey His Royal Highness and suite from the Fifth Avenue Hotel to the Opera House. O happy carriages, and horses too much blessed! I am a Committee of One to provide drinks for the special consolation of His Royal Highness in a small withdrawing room to be consecrated to that use. The Prince is said to be partial to sherry and seltzer water.

SOURCE: Allan Nevins and Milton Halset Thomas, Editors, Diary of George Templeton Strong, Vol. 3, pp. 42-3

Diary of George Templeton Strong, Friday, October 5, 1860

Wednesday night with Ellie, Miss Leavenworth, and Cameron to Tiffany’s shop in Broadway, where I had engaged a second story window. We inspected the grand National Wide-Awake torchlight procession. It was brilliant and successful. It was more than two hours in passing, and its most pleasing feature was the rear-rank of the last division. These demonstrations of the prevailing Republican party are elaborate and splendid, but cold and mechanical. One misses the spontaneous hullabaloo and furor of the Harrison campaign. Even in ’56 there was more enthusiasm. Of course, the corresponding depression on the other side is deeper yet. It is conceded that neither of the opposing candidates stands the smallest chance of election by the people. So Douglas men. Bell men, and Breckinridge men are all equally dumpish, and any excitement about fusion is impracticable. You can get up a hurrah for the gallant Smith or the "ga-lorious” Jones, but not for a mere abstraction for the generalization of Smith and Jones.

Much occupied with divers matters growing out of the expected advent of our "sweet young Prince.” "Long may he wave,” but I wish he were at home again with his royal mamma, and I hope the community won’t utterly disgrace itself before he goes away. The amount of tuft-hunting and Prince-worshiping threatens to be fearful; and, I don’t know how it happens, but I fear my share in the demonstration is to be much larger than I expected or desired. The Reception Committee met today and passed on divers weighty matters. It is proposed that we "wait on the Prince” the evening before the ball, which seems to me a very superfluous work of supererogation. All we can say or do is to express the hope that His Royal Highness finds himself pretty well, considering, and I think His Royal Highness will be inclined to take it for granted that we hope so, whether we call or not.

Maunsell Field’s exertions and labors over the arrangements for the ball are most arduous. He works all day and nearly all night and will break down if he isn’t careful. Honorable Luther Bradish has been sold with a grave suggestion that the Reception Committee wear small-clothes and silk-stockings, and was much exercised thereby. On reflection, he thought it might be, on the whole, highly becoming and proper. It seems a place on this committee is a much coveted place of honor. I was selected after great consideration. Very much obliged.

His Royal Highness is to attend services at Trinity Church on the 14th, "The First Sunday after the Ball” and the 18th after Trinity. The vestry met specially yesterday and a committee of arrangements was appointed: the Rector, Dunscomb, Hyslop, Cisco, and myself. The committee met this afternoon, and I walked up with Cisco, stopping at Mathews’s to arrange about the binding of a special prayerbook for His Royal Highness’s pew, with an inscription alluding to the former munificence of the British Crown to Trinity Church (Berrian suggested "his royal ancestors,” forgetting that His Royal Highness is descended neither from William and Mary nor from Queen Anne), and at Gimbrede’s about printing tickets of admission. We must admit by tickets or let the church be filled up with a mob, but I should much prefer to dispense with them.

SOURCE: Allan Nevins and Milton Halset Thomas, Editors, Diary of George Templeton Strong, Vol. 3, pp. 43-4

Diary of George Templeton Strong, Saturday, October 13, 1860

From any more princes of the blood, libera nos Domine. May this nice-looking, modest boy find his way home, or at least to our boundaries, with all convenient speed.

I’ve been in hard work about His Royal Highness for forty-eight hours. I’m weary of His Royal Highness. . . . The Ball is over, thank Heaven, but the Trinity Church reception and services tomorrow are still to be. What they will be, time must tell. I’ve made the most minute, definite arrangements with Mr. Kennedy and Sergeant Cropsey and the sextons and their aids, but I fear the crowd will out-general me. And I cannot be at the church till the services are actually commencing, for the destinies compel me to accompany or escort the royal party, our guests; and Hyslop and Dunscomb, who will be at the church from nine (when the doors open) till the Prince arrives, are timid and imbecile. I’d give a great deal if tomorrow’s august transaction were done and well done.

Mr. Ruggles took Ellie and me, also Mrs. Hunt, to the Astor Library yesterday morning. Only two or three onlookers were present; Mrs. Schuyler and Mrs. John Sherwood. We waited and waited, lounged through alcoves, looked with vain longings at the titles of nice books. The trustees of the library were biding their time below, waiting to pounce on His Royal Highness the moment the sound of his chariot wheels should be heard. At length, about eleven o’clock, a noise of much people was heard without—a hooray—an opening of the police-guarded door, feet on the stone staircase, and then a vision of a girlish-looking young boy walking swiftly through the library with Dr. Cogswell, followed by the hairy-faced Duke of Newcastle with Mr. S. B. Ruggles and by William Astor, Carson Brevoort, and others of the library trustees escorting Lord Lyons and a lot of peers and honorables beside. They inspected the premises in double-quick time, and at the head of the staircase on their way out. His Highness shook hands with Cogswell and thanked him very briefly, simply, and nicely, just as any untitled gentleman would have done (think of it!), and the royal party was gone.

I spent a few minutes in looking at some of the special treasures of the library—the First Folio Shakespeare, the editio princeps of Homer, and so on, and then went down to Wall Street. . . .

At eight to the Academy of Music. The doors were not yet opened to the common herd, but my exalted official position on the committee admitted me by the royal entrance on Fourteenth Street. The house looked brilliant, blazing with lights and decorated with great masses of flowers. My post was with Charles King, Ben Silliman, and Cyrus Field in the room appointed for the reception of invited guests generally. Certain other committees had interfered with our arrangements in an unwarrantable and unconstitutional manner. The consequence of this outrage was (as we had distinctly foreseen and predicted) that the great majority of the invited guests found their way to "the floor” for themselves without being conducted thither by any legitimate organ. Our duties were therefore light. We "received” a few South American and Portuguese diplomats and General Paez and Major Delafield and Captain Cullum and sundry army and navy people and a score of city militia, colonels in most elaborate uniforms, and Mayor Wood (I had a very intimate talk with that limb of Satan); and at ten we adjourned to the special reception room and joined Hamilton Fish and old Pelatiah Perit (who looked like a duke in his dress coat and white cravat), and Peter Cooper, who looked like one of Gulliver’s Yahoos caught and cleaned and dressed up.

In came the royal party at last, with the Reception Committeemen, who had been assigned the pleasing duty of escorting them. We were presented to His Royal Highness seriatim. I had supposed that shaking hands with a Prince of Wales was indecorous, and that a bow was the proper acknowledgment of introduction to so august a personage; but when the Prince puts out his hand, or extends and proffers his fingers like anybody else, it seems ungracious to decline the honor and say, "Sir, I am so well bred as to know my place, and I am unworthy to shake hands with a descendant of James I and George III and a probable King of England hereafter.” I think of having my right-hand glove framed and glazed, with an appropriate inscription.

Fish had assigned to each of the committee the duty of conducting one of the Prince’s suite into the ballroom, and I was charged with Lord Hinchinbrooke. I had implored Fish to bear in mind that most of our committee (myself included) were unable to distinguish dukes from mere honorables and asked him to be sure to introduce each notable to his committeeman godfather (vide programmes of autos-da-fè). But he forgot to do so, and we marched into the ballroom in a very promiscuous way— Fish escorting Monseigneur, Peter Cooper tagging after them, and the rest like a flock of sheep—and took our place at the head of the room; that is, the east end. Orchestra plays "God Save the Queen,” followed by "Hail Columbia!” Aspect of the house and the crowd brilliant and satisfactory. I fall into talk with a pleasant-looking Englisher, and introduce myself. He proves to be Englehart, the Duke of Newcastle’s private secretary, and an amiable, agreeable man.

A space in our front was kept clean by the Floor Committee, and through this the crowd began to defile. Fish presenting them as they passed and people making "murgeons and jenny-fluxions to H. R. H. George Anthon passed with Ellie. . . . I was pointing out notabilities to Englehart and the Honorable Mr. Somebody, and just indicating John Van Buren as the son of one of our ex-kings, when there was a dull, ugly, jarring report, quickly followed by another of the same sort. Everybody started and peered in vain over the heads of the densely packed crowd, and wondered what it was. But there was no panic and no rush. Presently we learned that the temporary flooring had given way in two places; over the stage a couple of beams broke, causing the reports we had heard. Ellie went down into one of the pits and was frightened, but did not lose her footing, nor her self-possession.

Of course, people crowded away from this dangerous, region in all directions. The promenade became impracticable, and the Prince and his suite and most of the committee retreated to the reception and supper-rooms. A large space was presently roped off, including the two chasms in the floor, and revealing the scandalous, criminal negligence with which the work of constructing the supports had been done. A score of carpenters and policemen and the illustrious Brown were energetically repairing the damage within fifteen minutes after the accident. But there was a general sense of failure and calamity. Everything looked bilious. Everyone said the whole floor was unsafe. There could be no dancing; the ball was a disgraceful fiasco. I explained to many persons that the Reception Committee had nothing to do with the arrangements of the house. Meantime, the carpenters were working for their lives. Brown peering down into the oblong hole looked as if engaged in his ordinary sextonical duties at an interment. . , .

By midnight damages had been repaired and dancing set in. People streamed over every part of the floor the moment the Prince appeared on it. Danger was forgotten. His Royal Highness’s partners, Mrs. Goold Hoyt, Miss Lily Mason, Mrs. John Kernochan, and others, were among our prettiest women. Mrs. Governor Morgan, with whom the Prince opened the ball officially, is elderly and stout, but presentable enough. It is said that she had been taking dancing lessons for the last fortnight, rubbing up her old steps, and that when the quadrille commenced, she timidly inquired, "Your Royal Highness, isn’t it time for us to balancer?” Miss Helen Russell was overpowered when the Prince was presented. Her voice failed her for fear, and she astonished H. R. H. with a series of contortions and muscular twitchings before she succeeded in articulating an audible word. So they say; I saw little of the dancing. The way people crowded round was snobbish and rude and indecent, and I kept on the outskirts, where loafed and lounged dejectedly. . . .

While the Prince was waiting for Mrs. Camilla Hoyt, his partner. Walker, the Presbyterian bookbinder, bustled up with a young woman under his arm, introduced himself, and proceeded, "The lady with whom Your Highness was to dance doesn’t seem to be ready; allow me to introduce my daughter.’’ The Prince said, "Yes, the crowd is very dense,’’ or some such thing, and evaded this ambitious plebeian rather gracefully for so young a person. Ellie heard this propriis auribus. She was presented to the Illustrious Stranger and discoursed with him and danced in the same "Lancers.” I had a very pleasant talk with Mrs. Colonel Scott, and was introduced to Millard Fillmore, who is well-bred and cordial, but I spent most of the evening, or night rather, dawdling about and wishing it were over.

Got home at daylight, weary and worn after nearly nine hours spent in a new pair of patent leathers. Very tired. If H. R. H. appreciate my exertions, he will send me the Victoria Cross or make me a duke in partibus, at least.

This evening at Mr. Ruggles’s awhile and saw part of the Firemen’s procession pass up the Fourth Avenue. It was very brilliant, with torches, colored lights, and so forth. On Madison Square, where they no doubt displayed all their resources of Roman candles and portable fireworks, it must have been a really attractive spectacle.

SOURCE: Allan Nevins and Milton Halset Thomas, Editors, Diary of George Templeton Strong, Vol. 3, pp. 46-9

1st Lieutenant William T. Sherman to John Sherman, April 4, 1845

SMITHVILLE, N.C., April 4, 1845.

My Dear Brother: I am going to return to Charleston to-night by sea, and expect to be turned wrong side out, as the wind is blowing a half gale. I have been to Wilmington in this State to stand by a young friend who exchanged the independence of the bachelor for the charms of Governor Dudley's daughter. We had a brilliant wedding,— dinner-parties and balls for three days, — when I came here to see a friend, and will now go home by the first steamboat that comes along. . . . I expect upon my arrival at Ft. Moultrie to find a letter from mother and yourself, and if I do not — good-by, for devil the word has reached me from Mansfield for four months. Love to all. Smithville is on the Cape Fear River, near the outlet.

Your affectionate brother,

W. T. SHERMAN.

SOURCE: Rachel Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, p. 27

Diary of Horatio Nelson Taft, Tuesday, January 15, 1861

Slippery, misty, foggy day. Good skating for the boys this morning in the street. A general impression seems to prevail that that [sic] the troubles of the Country are going to be healed some way, nobody can tell how. But there is a determination manifestly abroad that this Government shall not be broken up and that it will be defended and maintained at all hazzards and all costs. This determination on the part of the Administration and the whole United North seems to be felt by all. No particular news today. Spent the evening at Home reading first. Presidents Levee this Season, take little interest in them now.

SOURCE: Horatio Nelson Taft, The Diary of Horatio Nelson Taft, 1861-1865. Volume 1, January 1,1861-April 11, 1862, Library of Congress, Manuscript Division, Washington D. C., image 8.

1st Lieutenant William T. Sherman to John Sherman, February 15, 1842

PICOLATTO, F., Feb. 15, 1842.

My Dear Brother:

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

You doubtless saw my promotion announced in "Orders." I have been exceedingly fortunate, attaining a rank which generally requires five or eight years' service in the short period of seventeen months. This promotion separated me from the company to which I formerly belonged and from a garrison of officers to whom I had become much attached, yet I was of course rejoiced at being promoted to this company, which guards the road between St. Augustine and this place,—the road upon which so very many murders have been committed during the war. I command here a guard, have fine quarters, constant communication with the world, and although very little society, and no officers with me, I can mount my horse, and in a couple of hours can have both in the ancient city of St. Augustine, only eighteen miles distant. St. Augustine, you know, is the oldest town in the United States, nor does its appearance belie its age,—narrow, winding streets, close-built houses with the balconies meeting overhead, denoting its Spanish population. There are some few old English families, who remained when the Floridas were ceded to Spain, and together with the few Americans whom the delightful climate has enticed, constitute the best society. The Spaniards, or rather Minorcans, are very ignorant and have no desire to travel beyond their own circle. There is an old fort, built at enormous cost by the Spanish Government; but for want of appropriation, it is fast falling to decay. . . . The inhabitants still preserve the old ceremonies and festivities of old Spain. Balls, masquerades, etc., are celebrated during the gay season of the Carnival (just over), and the most religious observance of Lent in public, whilst in private they cannot refrain from dancing and making merry. Indeed, I never saw anything like it,—dancing, dancing, and nothing but dancing, but not such as you see at the north. Such ease and grace I never before beheld. A lady will waltz all the evening without fatigue, because it is done slowly, with grace; but it is in the Spanish dance they more especially excel, enchanting all who behold or participate. This, together with the easy and cordial hospitality all extend to officers, is what has captivated so many within the past few years.

SOURCE: Rachel Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, pp. 21-2

Diary of Horatio Nelson Taft, Thursday, April 3, 1862

Today obtained and sent the Photographs to Tho^s [Bourne?]. They were finished while I was in the Gallery. I sent them by Adams Express. I was in the “National,” saw a number of my friends there. Went to the Festival with wife & Julia, staid till near 11. They had a Negro Band, four or five. It seemed like a Ball but there was no dancing. The place abounded [in] awkward men & Homely women the latter teasing for ones money.

SOURCE: Horatio Nelson Taft, The Diary of Horatio Nelson Taft, 1861-1865. Volume 1, January 1,1861-April 11, 1862, Library of Congress, Manuscript Division, Washington D. C.

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, February 24, 1863

The time for the last two weeks has been used up with drill, quinine, and getting ready for the ball last night. It was ahead of anything yet. The partition between "D" and "E" was taken down, and about all day spent in fixing up our hall. The bunks were hidden by the shelter-tents festooned, and scrolls underneath, with the names of the officers on them. The card of the managers was as follows:

GRAND MASQUERADE BALL.

Sir, The pleasure of your company, with ladies, is respectfully solicited at a Grand Bal-Masque, to be given under the auspices of the 44th Regiment Dramatic Association, at the Barracks of Companies D and E,

On Monday Evening, February 23d, 1863.

Floor Managers.
William Howard,		J. B. Rice,			Jr.,Harry T. Reed
"D."		"E."			"E."
Committee of Arrangements.
Sergt.	G. L. Tripp,		Co. D.		Corpl.	C. E. Tucker,	Co E
"	H. A. Homer,		E.			H.	Howard, D.
Corpl.	Z. T. Haines,		D.			J. H. Waterman,	D.
"	J. B. Gardner,		D.			A. H. Bradish,	E.
"	J. W. Cartwright,		E.			C. H. Demeritt,	D.
"	M. E. Boyd,		D.			D. Howard,	D.
	F. A. Sayer,		D.			E. L. Hill,	A.
Tickets, Ten Cents, to be had only of the Managers. _______________ Masic by the New Berne Quadrille Band. Five pieces
ORDER OF DANCES.
1.	March			Lee's Quickstep.
2.	Quadrille			Sullivan's Double Quick.
3.	Lancers			Richardson's March,
4.	Contra			Skittletop Galop.
5.	Redowa			Odiorne's Choice.
6.	Quadrille			Surgeon's Call.
7.	Polka			Mary Lee's Delight.
8.	Contra			Stehbins' Reel.
INTERMISSION.
9.	Quadrille			Ham Fat Man.
10.	Waltz			Pas de Seul.
11.	Quadrille			Dismal Swamp.
12.	Contra			Friends at Home.
13.	Polka			"Long Acre."
14.	Quadrille			Dug-Out Race.
15.	Military Quadrille			Newell's March.

Generals Foster and Wessels, besides other officers of note, were there, and seemed to be much pleased. Some of the costumes were good. Deacon Foster (H. W. Johnson) walked about the barracks as natural as life. Patten, made up as a Howard-street Sport, was so good, that Capt. Richarson did not recognize him. Among others, Chum Ward showed to advantage as a lady, having borrowed a complete outfit for the occasion.

Promenading and flirting wound up the affair about eleven o'clock.

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, pp. 39-40

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne: December 18, 1862

The officers gave a dance in the upper part of the storehouse last night and the iron floor was fine for dancing. All hands were invited to join in and all that felt able did. Two men died yesterday, and last night another, all fever patients. Two were from Company A, and the other from Company I. They were buried just back of the quarters on hard ground, for this place. A catfish was caught by one of Company A's men to-day, that looked just like our bullheads, only bigger. As he was pulling him in over the mud the line broke, and I got the head for hitting him with an axe before he got to the water. The head weighed 14½ lbs, and the whole fish 52 lbs. A native that saw him said he was a big one, but not as big as they sometimes grow. My family had a meal from the head and Company A had fish for all their sick and part of the well ones.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 74

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan, Thursday, February 16, 1865

Revillie early, at 8. A. M. went on board the Ben Stickney, 50th on board Peytonia, both large boats were fired on above Helena. Peytonia had 4 men Killed 4 wounded. Stickny one wonded Genl Lu. Wallace & Luit on board the Ben Stickny. At 8:20 leave for below Meet the A with an Ill cav Regt on board meet several boats not loaded with soldiers. Officers on a gay. No enlisted men allowed in cabin this evening. going to dance. 2 recruits recd 13th assigned to co G. fills our co to the minmium. finest kind of weather

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, Thirty-Third Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, Vol. XIII, No. 8, Third Series, Des Moines, April 1923, p. 574

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, January 21, 1863

Last night our neighbors "D" gave the affair of the season, the occasion being marred only by the lack of ladies, which was in part supplied by several of the boys dressing up in clothes borrowed from the colored ladies down town.

The following card explains itself:—

GRAND BALL.

SIR,

The pleasure of your company, with ladies, is respectfully solicited at a Grand Ball to be held in the Grand Parlor of the Fifth Avenue Hotel (No. 4 New Berne), on Tuesday Evening, January 20th, 1863.

The management beg leave to state that nothing will be left undone on their part to make it the party of the season.

MANAGERS.
C. H. Demeritt.	W. Howard.	J. E. Leighton.
ORDER OF DANCES.
1.	Sicillian Circle	March to Tarboro.
2.	Quadrille	New England Guard.
3.	Polka Quadrille	Kinston Galop
4.	Quadrille	Yankee Doodle.
Waltz, Polka, Redowa, Scottische.
5.	Quadrille	Bloody 44th Quickstep.
6.	Les Lanciers	Connecticut 10th March.
7.	Quadrille	Lee’s March.
8.	Contra (Virginia Reel)	Rebel’s Last Skedaddle.

_______________

I cannot write much of a description of this affair, except to say it was enjoyable, and the hall crowded. A cousin of mine, in the 39th Ill. Infantry, is on a visit from Norfolk, and of course we had to go to the dance. Soon after entering, as we stood looking on, I placed my hand on the shoulder of the man in front, and, slightly leaning upon him, remarked, "A gay sight!" "Yes, it is," in a voice perfectly recognizable. I turned my head to be sure of what I had been doing, begged his pardon, and changed base instantly, carrying Ned to the farthest possible limit of the hall. It was Col. Lee I had been so familiar with, and all the time I was conspiring to break a rule, in having a man sleep in camp who did not belong there, although this was an extra occasion; and I suppose more than one mess had an extra member that night.

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. 33-4

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, January 25, 1863

As we proposed having a dance soon after "D," and there are such strong rumors of movements of troops floating about camp, we made up our minds not to lose our chance, and had it last night. Those who attended were highly gratified. The notices, posted on the different barrack-doors, read as follows:

BAL-MASQUE.

 

A grand Regimental Bal-Masque will be held to-night, January 24th, at the Barracks of Company E. None admitted except commissioned officers and those en costume.

There was a full house, notwithstanding the restrictions, and we had a fine time. Several were dressed as ladies, and made passably good-looking ones, Miss Rawson, of Boston, and Miss Emerson, of Waltham, carrying off the honors. Most of our officers called upon us, bringing a few of the 10th Conn.

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. 35

Diary of Private Jenkin Lloyd Jones: Thursday, September 4, 1862

Rienzi.   Acted as No. 6 on drill to-day. Made a galloping time of it. Did my first sweeping. Saw the first nigger dance; watered horses in the evening; fell in with clothes on.

SOURCE: Jenkin Lloyd Jones, An Artilleryman's Diary, p. 3

Diary of Private Ephraim Shelby Dodd: Wednesday, February 11, 1863

Sent to Headquarters to draw ammunition as A. O. S. Gen'l Wharton had a ball to-night.

SOURCE: Ephraim Shelby Dodd, Diary of Ephraim Shelby Dodd: Member of Company D Terry's Texas Rangers, p. 7

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty: July 4, 1861

The Fourth has passed off quietly in the little town of Buckhannon and in camp.

At ten o'clock the Third and Fourth Regiments were reviewed by General McClellan. The day was excessively warm, and the men, buttoned up in their dress-coats, were much wearied when the parade was over.

In the court-house this evening, the soldiers had what they call a "stag dance." Camp life to a young man who has nothing specially to tie him to home has many attractions—abundance of company, continual excitement, and all the fun and frolic that a thousand light-hearted boys can devise.

To-night, in one tent, a dozen or more are singing "Dixie" at the top of their voices. In another "The Star-Spangled Banner" is being executed so horribly that even a secessionist ought to pity the poor tune. Stories, cards, wrestling, boxing, racing, all these and a thousand other things enter into a day in camp. The roving, uncertain life of a soldier has a tendency to harden and demoralize most men. The restraints of home, family, and society are not felt. The fact that a few hours may put them in battle, where their lives will not be worth a fig, is forgotten. They think a hundred times less of the perils by which they may be surrounded than their friends do at home. They encourage and strengthen each other to such an extent that, when exposed to danger, imminent though it be, they do not seem to realize it.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 13-4

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

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, September 12, 1862

One of the days to be remembered, having had a deeper experience of life than ever before. Early in the day orders came to put on our best rig, and get ready to be sworn in, as a mustering officer was coming to camp to perform that (to Uncle Sam) very important duty. Our company was drawn up facing the head-quarters for a long time. The boys being in a fever of excitement as to how the operation would work, whether it would hurt much, or whether the home-folks would know us ever afterward. It turned out about as easy as the measles; some itching for a while, but soon over. The officer, Captain N. B. McLaughlin, of the Regular Army, walked up and down each rank as we stood in open order; looking at each man; picking out one or two and punching them a little, probably to scare them as much as possible; intending to pass them all. Then, coming in front of us while our hats were off and right hands raised, repeated the oath of service, and we were finally soldiers of the Volunteer Army. We felt that we were taller men by at least ten inches, and it is possible if Sergeant Thayer had measured the company then and there it would have been one of the tallest. But it was still "Left," "Left," "Left," again, and we soon found our level.

We are a social party; hardly a day but brings crowds from the city. Our company has its share. One afternoon quite a party of young ladies were with us trying to keep up our spirits. They were to stay awhile in the evening, going home by the late train, so we thought we would get up a little dance, but half-past eight o'clock came all to quickly, they had to go; and then the question arose how were we to see them to the cars. Try our best we could only spare one man. That lucky individual, whoever he was, will remember the incident. As this was probably the young ladies' last visit before our start for the South, we demanded and received our last good-bye kisses, but when they saw the same boys falling in the second time, and some of them strangers, they scattered like a drove of sheep over the fences and far away to the station. I think that was the last effort the company made (as an orgaization) to kiss them all a good-bye.

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. 8

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, March 3, 1863

March 3.

The plot thickens. Our steamers are coaling up and the stores and ammunition are going aboard. This looks southward and before this letter reaches you we shall probably be up some river, I hope not the one spoken of on the streets. Today Dr. M. M. Marsh of the U. S. Sanitary Commission has made his official visit and dined with me. I suppose I care the more for Dr. Marsh that he is not only a gentleman, and a physician whom I greatly respect, but also that he comes from the capital of my own native state. He is an elderly man with a countenance all covered with benignity. The following note to me from his agent at Beaufort, Mr. H. G. Spaulding, indicates the right spirit toward our movement.

“If you are in want of any hospital or sanitary supplies for your regiment, we shall be most happy to fill out a requisition for you. Send for whatever you need and state in every case the amount wanted. This is all the ‘red tape’ of our Commission, and there are no knots in it. In view of your unexpected movement I take this opportunity of assuring you of our desire to assist you in every way in our power.”

Of course Dr. Minor was posted off with a requisition and our good soldiers shall bless the Commission.

Last night our men seemed bewitched. A few ran guard to be at a dance at the old “Battery plantation.” Very early in the morning a poor fellow refused to halt, when ordered to do so by the guard, and has lost his life for it. He was shot through the side and will die within a few days.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 369

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