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 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

Brigadier-General Rutherford B. Hayes to Sardis Birchard, February 17, 1865

CUMBERLAND, MARYLAND, February 17, 1865.

Dear UNCLE:- I send for safe keeping my original appointment as brigadier-general. It was confirmed by the Senate a few days ago.

No movements here. It seems to be the expectation that Lee will attempt something desperate to get out of the net forming around him. We are having a gay time. Balls, etc., of the fastest sort are common.

Sincerely,

R. B. HAYES.

S. BIRCHARD.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 559

Brigadier-General Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, January 5, 1865

CUMBERLAND, MARYLAND, January 5, 1865.

DEAREST: – I am just in receipt of yours of the 21st. It has probably been on the hunt of me a week or more.

I am very glad you are pleased to call the little soldier George Crook. I think it is a pretty name, aside from the agreeable association.

We are most pleasantly located here. In the midst of fine mountain scenes, plenty of wood and water, and no duty for the men. They are already in their new huts and are very jolly over it.

The publication of my appointment has been made. I have not yet got the original document. It was missent to New York City and will go from there to Chillicothe. If it gets there before I do you will open it. It gives as the reason of the appointment, gallantry and good conduct in the late battles in the Shenandoah Valley and dates from the Battle of Cedar Creek, October 19, 1864. Aside from the vanity which goes always with brass buttons, I have other reasons for wanting the grounds of the appointment published. No flourish of trumpets, no comment, but simply, "Colonel R. B. Hayes, Twenty-third Regiment O. V. I., has been [appointed] brigadier-general” for (here quote the exact words of the appointment). Show this to Uncle Scott and request him to have the paragraph published in the Chillicothe paper when the letter of appointment gets there. I may be there first, but it is still doubtful.

The doctor is very happy — young ladies, a pretty town, parties, balls, etc. I hope to get home within a fortnight. — Love to all.

Affectionately, ever,

R.

Mrs. HAYES.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 554

Brigadier-General Rutherford B. Hayes to Sardis Birchard, January 6, 1865

CUMBERLAND, MARYLAND, January 6, 1865.

Dear UNCLE: – We are getting into very pleasant quarters. The town is a fine one, plenty of parties, balls, etc., etc., for the beaux — fine mountain scenery — good water and wood convenient.

There are still odds and ends of business to be finished, and then no reason that I can see why I should not go home. I expect quite confidently to be at home within two weeks.

The reason for my promotion, etc., has been officially announced "for gallantry and meritorious services in the Battles of Opequon, Fisher's Hill, and Cedar Creek” and dates from the Battle of Cedar Creek, October 19. All very satisfactory.

Sincerely,

R. B. HAYES

S. BIRCHARD.

_______________

OHIO GENERALS, GRADUATES FROM WEST POINT WHO ONE THE WAR FOR THE UNION.

[Top:] Major-General Philip Sheridan, 1831-88.  Lieutenant-General William T. Sherman, 1820-91.  Major-General James B. McPherson,1828-64.

[Center:] General Ulysses S. Grant, 1822-85.

[Bottom:] Major-General George Crook, 1828-90.  Major-General George A. Custer, 1839-76.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 554-5

Diary of Gideon Welles: Monday, March 6, 1865

The weather continues to be fine. Thousands have left the city, which is still crowded. The inauguration ball of this evening is a great attraction, particularly to the young. Seward has sent to me a request to attend, and Dennison desires it. I have no desire to go, but my family have, as well as my associates.

Current business at Department has accumulated, and the day has been one of unceasing application. Did not leave Department until after five o'clock. McCulloch's name was sent in to-day for the Treasury. I fear he wants political knowledge and experience, though as a financier he may not be unequal to the position; but will not prejudge him. He has been a successful banker, and that seems to have furnished the argument for his appointment. It by no means follows, however, that a successful banker, good at business details and accumulating interest, is able to strike out and establish the policy of the nation in regard to its currency and finance. He may have these essential financial qualities, but I do not think they entered into the considerations which led to his selection.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 2: April 1, 1864 — December 31, 1866, p. 252-3

Diary of Sergeant David L. Day: January 25, 1864

WILLIAMSBURG, VA.

Leaving Newport News on the afternoon of the 21st, we made a march of about ten miles, reaching Little Bethel just before dark, when we halted and put up in an old church building for the night. Little Bethel contains beside the church an old grist and saw mill, a blacksmith shop and three small houses, all in a rather dilapidated condition. There was no enemy within 100 miles of us, but Capt. Parkhurst, either as a matter of form or through force of habit, put out a few pickets. The old church had long ago been stripped of its seats and pulpit, if it ever had any, leaving the whole floor unobstructed. After supper and getting a little rested, a dance was proposed. A gallery extended across one end, and on the front of this the candles were thickly set, lighting up the old church in fine style. One of our German comrades of Company G had a violin and furnished the music. Sets were formed and the fun commenced. The pickets outside, hearing the sounds of revelry within, left their posts and came in, and standing their rifles in a corner threw off their equipments and joined in the dance. The captain remonstrated at such unlawful proceedings, but the cry was “Never mind the pickets! on with the dance! let fun be unrestrained.” The dance was kept up until the candles burned low, when we spread our blankets and laid down for rest.

In the morning we found outside five men with their horses and carts, waiting to sell us oysters. Fortunately we were the possessors of a few scraps of paper bearing the signature of Uncle Samuel. With a portion of this paper we bought the men's oysters, and after breakfast we chartered them to carry our knapsacks to Yorktown, thereby nullifying the order of the great Mogul at Fortress Monroe, and I have not the slightest doubt that if he knew of it he would hang every one of those men for giving aid and comfort to the incorrigible.

Leaving Little Bethel we marched over McClellan's famous corduroy road through white oak swamp, coming out at Warwick court house. This is a county seat, containing a small court house situated in a pretty grove of trees, a jail, church, half a dozen houses and a blacksmith shop. We arrived at the forks of the roads, a mile below and in full view of historic old Yorktown, about the middle of the afternoon.

Here we were met by an officer and commanded to halt till further orders. I thought this was as near as they dared have us come the first day for fear the malaria would strike us too suddenly.

From here the dim outlines of Washington's old intrenchments could be traced and near by was what appeared to be an angle in the line on which guns were probably mounted and which commanded the whole open plain between here and town. Now it did not require a great stretch of the imagination to go back to those days and see those brave men toiling and suffering behind those works, to build up for themselves and their posterity a country and a name. I could see in my mind the haughty Cornwallis march out upon this plain, surrendering his army and his sword to Washington, in the last grand act in the drama of the American revolution. But how is it today? Yonder rebel fort tells in thunder tones how well their degenerate sons appreciate the legacy.

About dusk an orderly rode up, bringing an order for us to proceed to Williamsburg, some fifteen miles further up the country. We tried to get the captain to stop here till morning and go through the next day, but it was of no use; he had got his orders to march and was going through tonight. I could not see that it was a military necessity to force the march, and after we had gone three or four miles my knapsack began to grow heavy and I grew tired. I halted by the roadside and said I was going to put up for the night and if any one would like to keep me company I should be pleased to have them. About twenty rallied to my standard. After the column bad passed we stepped through a low hedge of bushes into a small open space, surrounded by high bushes which served as a shelter from the winds. There we spread our blankets and laid ourselves down to forget in our slumbers the weight of our knapsacks. The stars looked down on us and the watchful eye of the Almighty was the only sentinel.

When we awoke in the morning the rising sun's bright ray was peeping through the bushes. The first object which met our gaze was a lean, lank, sundy-complexioned, long-haired native, who stood peering over the bushes at us. The first salutation that greeted his ears was, “Who are you and what do you want?" He replied, “I seed you was down yere, and thought I would come down and see if I could get some 'baccer?” Looking up we saw a house out in the field some distance off, and asked him if he resided there. He said he did. We gave him some tobacco and inquired about the roads and distince to Williamsburg. We inquired if there were any bush whackers about here? He said “There mought be once in a while one found." Then we put on a ferocious look and said they had better not be found by us unless they wished to join the antediluvian society and have their bones scattered in every graveyard from here to Jerusalem. The old chap's eyes stuck out and he began to edge off, thinking perhaps we had got on a thick coat of war paint. We made our coffee and started on our journey, and by easy stages came up with the boys in the afternoon. They had pitched the camp and got it all fixed up and named Camp, Hancock.

I thought the captain was as glad to see us as anyone, but he put on a stern look and inquired where we had been and why we fell out. We told him we were tired and lay down by the side of the road to rest and take a nap. He lectured us on the enormity of such proceedings, telling us we had committed a very flagrant breach of good order and military despotism. We assented to all the captain said, but kept thinking all the time that as we were a sort of outcasts, did not belong anywhere and were under no particular command, there wouldn't much come of it.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 111-3

Diary of Laura M. Towne: Sunday, June 9, 1862

This afternoon the cotton agent, or rather the sutler, Mr. Whiting, and his little wife, left the place. We are so glad to have their half of the house. Mr. Pierce left with me an injunction that they should take away none of the furniture, and they left most of it. Mr. Elmendorff gave into my charge some things which he should claim should he come again, but he has only the right of prior seizure to them.

To-night we all went to Rina's house where the people had a "shout," which Mr. McKim was inclined to think was a remnant of African worship.

SOURCE: Rupert Sargent Holland, Editor, Letters and Diary of Laura M. Towne: Written from the Sea Islands of South Carolina 1862-1864, p. 66-7

John L. Motley to Anna Lothrop Motley, January 27, 1864

January 27, 1864.

My Dearest Mother: Since I last wrote I have had the pleasure of receiving your kind letter of 28th December. Although I regret to find that you are still so much a sufferer from neuralgia and rheumatism, it is a great satisfaction that your eyesight is so much improved, and that you are able to read as much as you like.

Fortunately you have it in your power to see all the new books, whereas we are obliged very much to do without them. Vienna is probably the city in the world where the least reading is done in proportion to the population, and the most dancing. Yet, strange to say, in the upper society there are but very few balls this carnival. Lily wrote you an account of ours, and on the following week there was a ball at the French ambassador's, the Duc de Gramont.

The society is so small that this seems to suffice. I shall add but little concerning our festivity. It was a tremendous undertaking in the prospect, and Mary excited my special wonder by the energy and completeness with which she superintended the arrangements. Our head servant, being an incapable donkey, was an obstruction rather than a help, and the only real lieutenant that she had was ———, who was all energy and intelligence. Lily, who thoroughly understands the society of Vienna, was, of course, all in all in regard to the actual business of the ball, and we had an excellent and amiable ally in young Prince Metternich, who was the managing director. Well, at least we are rewarded for the trouble and expense by success, for I cannot doubt, so much we have heard about it, that it gave very great satisfaction to the said upper three hundred, that noble Spartan band who so heroically defend the sacred precincts of fashion against the million outsiders who in vail assail it. I have said more about this trifling matter than you may think interesting. But to say the truth, I preferred that exactly in this state of our affairs the house of the American minister should be one whose doors were occasionally open, rather than to be known as a transatlantic family who went everywhere but who were never known to invite a soul within their walls. For me personally it is harder work than writing a dozen despatches.

There is, I think, but little of stirring intelligence to be expected from the United States before March or April, but I have settled down into a comfortable faith that this current year 1864 is to be the last of military operations on a large scale. To judge from the history of the past two and a half years, it will not take another twelvemonth for our forces to get possession of what remains of rebel cities and territory, or, at any rate, to vanquish the armed resistance to such an extent that what remains of the insurrection will be reduced to narrow and manageable compass. In another year or two, I am now convinced, there will be neither slaveholders nor rebels — which terms are synonymous. The future will be more really prosperous than the past has ever been, for the volcano above which we have been living in a fool's paradise of forty years, dancing and singing, and imagining ourselves going ahead, will have done its worst, and spent itself, I trust forever. In Europe affairs are looking very squally. The war has almost begun, and the first can non-shot, I suppose, will be heard on the Eider before the middle of February. At least, from the best information I can gather from German, Danish, and other sources, the conflict has become inevitable. If diplomacy does succeed in patching up matters in the next fortnight, it will show better skill in joiner's work than it has manifested of late years on any other occasion. We have at least the advantage of being comparatively secure from interference.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley, Volume III, p. 2-4 

John L. Motley to Anna Lothrop Motley, March 28, 1863

Vienna,

March 28, 1863.

My Dearest Mother: . . . As to your making yourself out so very old, I can't admit that when I see, for example, Lord Palmerston, who is ever so many years older than you, in his eightieth year in fact, shouldering the whole British Empire, and making a joke of it. Our climate, too, so trying to the young, I believe to be exceedingly beneficial to those more advanced in years. Only do go to Nahant next summer; I am sure that the air and sight of that sea-beaten promontory is to you an elixir of youth.

I have little to say of our goings-on here. Lent, which has succeeded a dancing carnival, has been pretty well filled up every evening with soirees. Baron Sina, the minister of the defunct kingdom of Greece, an enormously wealthy man, has given a series of evening parties, in which there was always music by the Italian operatic artists now performing in Vienna. We had Patti last week, who sang delightfully. She has made quite a furore in this place. We have only heard her at the theater once. She is not at the Imperial Opera, where we have a box, but at a smaller one, and the price is altogether too large, as one is obliged to subscribe for the whole engagement. I hope to get a box, however, for next Saturday night, when she is to play Lucia; and this will be sufficient for us. We dined with a large party three days ago at the same Baron Sina's expressly to meet Patti. We had previously dined with her at Baron Rothschild's. She is a dear little unsophisticated thing, very good, and very pretty and innocent. She considers herself as an American, and sang “Home, Sweet Home,” after dinner the other day, because she said she was sure we should like to hear it, and she sang it most delightfully.

Last Wednesday night we gave a great squash of our own. It was our first attempt in the evening-party line, and we were a little nervous about it. You know you don't send out written invitations and receive answers. You merely send a couple of days before a verbal invitation through a servant, without any chance of a reply. At a quarter before ten there were not a dozen people in our rooms, and we began to feel a little fidgety, although we knew the regular habits of the people. But in ten minutes the house was crowded. It was considered a most successful squeeze. All the Liechtensteins, Esterhazys, Trauttmansdorffs, and the other great families of Vienna, together with nearly the whole diplomatic corps, were present, and seemed to amuse themselves as well as at other parties. Talking the same talk with the same people, drinking the same tea and lemonade, and eating the same ices as at other houses, there is no reason why they should not have amused themselves as well. The young ladies are a power in Vienna. At every “rout,” or evening reception, they always have one of the rooms to themselves, which is called the Comtessen Zimmer (no young lady in this society being supposed to be capable of a lower rank than countess), and where they chatter away with their beaus, and sometimes arrange their quadrilles and waltzes for the balls of a year ahead.

Nothing can be more charming than the manners of the Austrian aristocracy, both male and female. It is perfect nature combined with high breeding. A characteristic of it is the absence of that insolence on the one side and of snobbishness on the other which are to be found in nearly all other societies. This arises from the fact that the only passport to the upper society is pedigree, an unquestionable descent on both sides of the house from nobility of many generations. Without this passport a native might as well think of getting into the moon as getting into society. Therefore the society is very small, not more than three hundred or so, all very much intermarried and related; everybody knows everybody, so that pushing is impossible, and fending off unnecessary. The diplomatic corps move among it, of course, officially. They are civil to us, and invite us to their great parties, and come to our houses. As a spectacle of men and women, and how they play their parts, as Washington Irving used to say, I have no objection to spending my evenings thus for a small portion of the year. It does not interfere with my solid work during the daytime. English society is very interesting, because anybody who has done anything noteworthy may be seen in it. But if an Austrian should be Shakspere, Galileo, Nelson, and Raphael all in one, he couldn't be admitted into good society in Vienna unless he had the sixteen quarterings of nobility which birth alone could give him. Naturally it is not likely to excite one's vanity that one goes as a minister where as an individual he would find every door shut against him. But in the way of duty it is important to cultivate social relations where one is placed, and in these times I am desirous that the American legation should be in a line with other missions. Fortunately, evening entertainments only cost the wax candles and the lemonade.

There is not much in this letter, my dear mother, to interest you. But I thought it better to talk of things around me instead of sending my disquisitions about American affairs, in regard to which I am so unfortunate as to differ from those whom you are in the habit of talking with. Best love to my father and all at home.

Ever your most affectionate son,

J. L. M.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 322-5

Diary of Gideon Welles: Tuesday, February 23, 1864

Chase did not come to the Cabinet-meeting to-day. As usual, two or three were absent. Usher has gone to the front, where there was a ball and fancy demonstrations. He is fond of matters of that kind and of the little flying gossip that is afloat.

SOURCE: Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy Under Lincoln and Johnson, Vol. 1: 1861 – March 30, 1864, p. 530

Captain Charles Wright Wills: March 20, 1864

Scottsboro, Ala., March 20, 1864.

What under the sun can I tell you that will interest you. That it is intolerably dull, bah! Have just had a long visit from Lieutenant Colonel Wright, now army assistant inspector general of the division, and Lieutenant Van Dyke, A. D. C., to our new commander, General Harrow. The lieutenant is a splendid looking fellow of about 23 years, and has served up to the time of coming into our division with the 2d Corps, Army Potomac. Van Dyke informed me that a despatch from Logan was received by Harrow this a. m., informing him that Forrest was prowling around on the other side of the river with intention of crossing and making a little dash on some part of our line. "Our" railroad from Nashville via Decatur is about completed (will be finished to-morrow) and then we hope to have something to eat once more. This railroad will be all for our corps, or at least we will get the choice of what comes over it. We are at outs with the general to-day. In the field we are not accustomed to having camp guard, considering a strong picket and the regular property alarm guards sufficient. But because two or three men got drunk yesterday, and a gun or two was fired, out comes Harrow in an order and requires a strong camp guard. It may be one of the faults of our discipline, but 'tis a fact that our men would much prefer two days of any other duty, to one of camp guard. Our court gets on slowly. Oh! We had a dance a few nights since. Northern ladies, officers' wives, and a few "Mountain Ewes" (the poetical name given the Jackson county beauties by some genius of a Yankee). We really had a delightful time; and I understand they are to be continued, one every two weeks Anything to keep a man from getting blue. I see Abraham calls for 200,000 more. Keep asking for them Lincoln, that's right, I'm sure there are yet many who can be spared for their country's good in more meanings than one. It's queer that our regiment don't get more recruits. We need them very much, and yet I dread getting them, they are so much trouble for a year. The 26th and 48th Illinois have respectively 200 and 500 and the officers are bored terribly over them. There is to my eye, as much difference between the average of recruits and the average of veterans, as there is between the physique of a tailor and that of a blacksmith. Some of the veterans who have returned to camp, are sick of their last bargain with the United States, but the majority are right glad to get back.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 220-1

Captain Charles Wright Wills: March 12, 1864

Scottsboro, Ala., March 12, 1864.

I have been tremendously demoralized for nearly a month in consequence of a terrible cold I caught by some of my carelessness, I suppose, but am now coming out of it all right. Weather is most beautiful. Not too much duty, excellent camp, remarkably good health, and everything so near right, that almost think a soldier who'd grumble here deserves shooting. Were I disposed to complain am sure I could only find two little topics whereof to speak; one being the fact that 'tis impossible to get anything to eat here excepting regular army rations, not even hams can be had, and the other the long-continued absence of the paymaster. We are hoping that both these matters will be remedied 'ere long, but have been so hoping for months. We have a division purveyor now, who pretends that he will furnish us in good eatables. We have had but a few articles from him, and I'll tell you the prices of those I remember. Can of strawberries, $1.75; cheese, 80 cents a pound; bottle (about one and one-half pints) pickled beets, $1.50. If I could draw the pay of a brigadier general, and then live on half rations, think I might come out even with said purveyor for my caterer.

Everything perfectly stagnant. We did hear day before yesterday some quite rapid artillery firing for an hour or two; it sounded as though it might have been some ten or twelve miles southwest of us. 'Twas reported by scouts a few days ago that the enemy was preparing flatboats at Guntersville to cross the river on, with intent to make a raid up in this direction or toward Huntsville. The 15th Michigan Mounted Infantry was sent down to look after the matter, ran into an ambuscade and lost a dozen or so killed and wounded. That's all I heard of the matter. We were very sorry that the loss was so light, for they are a miserable set. We are going to have a dance here in a few days. Think I'll go. Anything at all to get out of camp. I'm as restless as a tree top after marching so much. You don't know how tame this camp business is. Am afraid I will get the “blues” yet. Hurry up the spring campaign, I say.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 219

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Luman Harris Tenney: January 20, 1864

Off early. Every morning and noon have to wait for somebody. Considerable sport. Took dinner after passing the Hiawasse, where they had a rail-mauling, quilting and dance last night. Most of the country turned out. Good deal of smallpox scattered through the country. People alarmed. Put up with some poor Union people. Slept in room with whole family.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 105

Captain Charles Wright Wills: August 31, 1863

Decatur, Ill., August 31, 1863.

The general stopped me here and insists on keeping me for a time. Major Wait's resignation, which was forwarded the same time the general sent his, has been accepted, and I now being the only member of the staff in the north, he wants me to stay with him, for should he be ordered away for any purpose, he would want some attendance. I would enjoy myself very much but for my biliousness. Appetite poor, miserable, sickish demoralized stomach, and am becoming yellow as saffron. My duties are not very heavy. The general has some very fine riding horses, and I devote some little time to exercising them. Mrs. Miner has very kindly undertaken to introduce me into society here, which, from what I have seen I judge to be very excellent. I went with the general to a union meeting at Charleston, about 100 miles from here, near the crossing of the Terre Haute and Alton and Chicago Branch of the Central. The general made a big speech, and I made a good many small, ones. We stopped with Col. Tom Marshall while there. Had a big dance at night in which I participated heavily, staying with them until the very last moment. Train left at 2 a. m. Never will forget that dance in the world.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 186

John L. Motley to Mary Lothrop Motley, February 17, 1863

Vienna, February 17, 1863.

My Dearest Little Mary: I hope that you will accept this note from me as the family contribution for to-day.

I assure you, when you know Vienna as well as we do, you will agree that to screw out a letter once a week is a Kunststück to be proud of. I can't very well write to you, as I write to the State Department, about the movements in Montenegro, the Polish insurrection, or the Prussian-French treaty of commerce, although I dare say these things would amuse you about as much as they do the people at Washington just now, where they have so much other fish to fry. To-day is the last day of the carnival, which we celebrate by remaining calmly within doors in the bosom of our respected family. The great ball at Prince Schwarzenberg's took place last Sunday, so that we were obliged respectfully but firmly to decline. Soon begins the season of “salons.” Now, if there is one thing more distasteful to me than a ball, it is a salon. Of course I don't object to young people liking to dance, and the few balls in the great houses here are as magnificent festivals as could be got up anywhere, and Lily had always plenty of partners and danced to her heart's content, notwithstanding that nearly all the nice youths of the French and English embassies have been transplanted to other realms. But I think that no reasonable being ought to like a salon. There are three topics — the Opera, the Prater, the Burg Theater; when these are exhausted, you are floored. Conversazioni where the one thing that does not exist is conversation are not the most cheerful of institutions.

The truth is that our hostile friends the English spoil me for other society. There is nothing like London or England in the social line on the Continent. The Duke of Argyll writes to me pretty constantly, and remains a believer in the justice of our cause, although rather desponding as to the issue; and Mr. John Stuart Mill, who corresponds with me regularly and is as enthusiastic as I am, tells me that the number of men who agree with him in wishing us success is daily increasing. Among others he mentioned our old friend the distinguished Dr. Whewell, Master of Trinity (with whom we stayed three days at Cambridge when I received my degree there), who, he says, is positively rude to those who talk against the North. He won't allow the “Times” to come into the house. Well, I hope the recent and remarkable demonstrations in England will convince the true lovers of union and liberty in America where our true strength lies, and who our true lovers are.

We have given four diplomatic dinners. The last was five days ago. Sixteen guests, beginning with Count Rechberg and the Prince and Princess Callimaki (Turkish ambassador), and ending with a French and Belgian attache or two. The French and English ambassadors and secretaries dined with us the week before. I think we shall give no more at present, unless we have a smaller one, to which we shall invite the Rothschild of the period, as we have had several good dinners at his house. I am very glad that you are to dine with Mrs. Amory to meet General McClellan. We feel very grateful to Mr. and Mrs. Amory and S—— for their kindness to you. Pray never forget to give all our loves to them. Did Mrs. Amory ever get a letter I wrote her? Its date was May 12. Pray remember us most kindly to Mr. and Mrs. Ritchie. I am so glad that you have been seeing so much of them lately. It is impossible for you not to be fond of them when you know them. Give my love also to Miss “Pussie,” and to my Nahant contemporary, who I hope continues on the rampage as delightfully as ever. You will tell us, of course, what impression General McClellan makes upon you. Personally there seems much that is agreeable, almost fascinating, about him. I only saw him for a single moment, but was much impressed by his manner. I wish it had been his destiny to lead our armies to victory, for I don't see that we have any better man. But no one man will ever end this war except he be an abolitionist heart and soul, and a man of military genius besides.

Things have gone a million miles beyond compromise. Pray tell me what you learn of Hooker.

We all join in kindest love to you, my darling, and to your grandmama and grandpapa, and all at home.

Your ever-affectionate

P. G.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 314-6