Diary of Captain Joseph Stockton, December 5, 1862

Left camp at 6 o'clock. Roads in a terrible condition, mud knee deep, marching almost impossible; artillery stuck in the road, wagons in every conceivable condition. Crossed the Tallahatchie on a pontoon bridge of a very primitive build, being composed of trees cut down fastened together with ropes and tied to the shore with the ropes, small trees were laid crosswise and on this we crossed. The rebels had quite a strong fort here which would have given us a great deal of trouble, but Sherman's march on our flank forced Price to abandon it. The roads on the south side were much better and after a wearisome march of sixteen miles reached Oxford, Mississippi, at 8 o'clock p. m. I never was so tired and never saw the men so worn out and fatigued as they were on this day's march. We were kept over an hour before our camp was located and it seemed as if all dropped to sleep at once. I could not but think of those at home who are all the time condemning our generals and armies for not moving with greater rapidity, for not making forced marches and following up the enemy, when they know nothing about it. We made quite a parade going through Oxford as it is a place of considerable importance. Flags were unfurled, bands struck up, bugles sounded, and men for the time being forgot their fatigue and marched in good order. Nothing like music to cheer up the men.

SOURCE: Joseph Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph Stockton, p. 5-6

Diary of Private Edward W. Crippin, Saturday, August 24, 1861

Camp Butler, Sagamon co Ills. Morning quite cool. Williams returned last night with 3 recruits. Co. now consists of 82 men rank and file. Capt. Killpatrick's Comp. arrived from Milton Pike County Ills. last evening. Capt Hunts Comp. from Barry arrived today. A Comp. from Bellville St. Clair County also arrived to day, accompanied by a brass band Brown County Cavalry Comp. Came this morning.

SOURCE: Transactions of the Illinois State Historical Society for the Year 1909, p. 223

Diary of Captain Joseph Stockton, November 29, 1862

Marched at 8 o'clock in the morning. General Grant passed us at about 10 o'clock; arrived at Holly Springs at about 11 o'clock; halted an hour, marched to Lumpkins Mills where we encamped for the night. Had to take off our pants, etc., to wade a stream to reach our camping grounds—found a splendid pond of water which was made good use of. Firing in the distance. I saw one of the grandest sights tonight. I had occasion to ride up on a high hill and in the valley below there were some 40 or 50 thousand troops encamped and going into camp the thousands of camp fires, the cheers of the men as they were going into camp, the tattoo of the regiments which had already gone into camp, some with bands of music, others with only the bugle, others with drums, all together made up a scene long to be remembered. I would not have missed seeing it for hundreds of other scenes at home. I staid on the hill for some time and at midnight not a sound was heard, all was as still as could be and the only things to be seen were groups of soldiers either lying or sitting around the camp fires.

SOURCE: Joseph Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph Stockton, p. 4-5

Diary of Captain Joseph Stockton, November 30, 1862

Sunday morning the regiment was ordered out on grand guard. Went up on hill some two miles from camp—heavy firing heard in the distance—McArthur's division in the advance and the rebels are falling back before him. As I sat on a log this morning about church time I thought of many dear friends wending their way to church and how the church bells were ringing at home, speaking of nothing but peace, while, in dear old St. James, many are listening to the glorious anthems and the litany of the church. I wondered to myself if any there give their thoughts to the absent ones who loved their country better than all the pleasure and comforts of home and are willing to die for it. How different here; everything speaks of war and desolation—foraging wagon trains constantly coming in, bringing cattle, pigs, chickens, turkeys, everything they can lay their hands on. On the other side of the creek are regiments marching forward, their colors flying, bands playing, men chewing, while in the distance is the sound of McArthur's guns or rebel ones returning their fire. I would not be in Chicago if I could.

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

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, September 5, 1862

Still in Hudson. Was routed out twice last night, for no particular reason as far as I can discover, unless it was to make a miserable night still more miserable. After forming in line and standing there, half asleep, for awhile, the order, "Break Ranks" would come and we would go back to our bunks, and so the night wore away. At 4.30 we were called again, marched out for our morning ablutions, and then marched back again, wide awake, but pretty cross and ugly. We signed receipts for one month's pay in advance, and then had breakfast. We did nothing more until dinner time and were then told to take our haversacks and canteens with us. After dinner we were each given a day's supply of bread and a canteen full of coffee, and told to be ready to march at any minute.

Six P. M. On board the steamship Oregon, bound for New York City. We had a busy time getting off. Crowds upon crowds of people lined the way from the camp ground to the steamboat landing. The windows and the house tops were also full. I don't see where so many people came from. Men, women and children were waving flags, handkerchiefs or anything else that would wave. They cheered us until hoarse. Bands played, every steam whistle in Hudson was blowing, in fact every thing that could make a noise did so. Through it all we marched, reaching out every little while for a final handshake, and a last good-bye. Everyone seemed to know everybody else. I presume I shook hands with a hundred that I never saw before and may never see again. But the heartiness of it all, and the sincerity showed so plainly, that by the time the landing was reached the tears were washing the dust from our faces. I am glad it is over. No matter what comes next, it cannot be more trying than that march through Hudson.

Later. The sail down the Hudson is glorious. It is all new to me. As soon as we were clear from the dock I got into the quietest place I could find and told my diary about it. I wish I could better describe the doings about me. This will do to remind me of it all, if I ever see these scribblings again, and if not those that do see them may turn their imagination loose, feeling sure that it cannot overdraw the picture. But there is no use trying to write any more. Confusion reigns, and I am going to put away my dairy and take a hand in it.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 15-7

Diary of Private Edward W. Crippin, Monday, August 12, 1861

Capt. Waters Co. arrived this morning accompanied by a fine band of music from Macomb McDonough County Ills. Capt. Hitts Co. arrived this afternoon from Exeter Scott County Ills

SOURCE: Transactions of the Illinois State Historical Society for the Year 1909, p. 223

Diary of Musician David Lane, September 27, 1862

Antietam, September 27th, 1862.

We have had one week of rest; are encamped three miles from our last battlefields, with a prospect of staying here several weeks. There is much sickness, but nothing of a serious nature. As for myself, I have not seen an hour's sickness since I left Michigan. Our camp is pleasantly situated on a high hill, and the surrounding hills and valleys are white with tents. In the evening, when every tent is lighted up, they present a brilliant and beautiful appearance. Several regiments are supplied with brass bands, which delight us every evening with a "concord of sweet sounds." Last evening the Fiftieth Pennsylvania serenaded the "Bloody Seventeenth," as they call us.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 14

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, June 21, 1863

Between Front Royal and Winchester, Va.        ,

June 21, 1863.

We are in the Valley of Virginia again and are now within ten miles of Winchester. You cannot imagine how delighted the Valley people are at our appearance. The ladies wave their handkerchiefs from every little farmhouse we pass and cheer us onward.

Such sights are enough to make anyone feel enthusiastic. As we marched through Front Royal this morning the people were in ecstasies and our bands played lively airs for them, although it is Sunday.

In coming from Fredericksburg here we have taken a much shorter route than the one we took in going from here to that place last fall. Since we left Fredericksburg last week we have not traveled more than one hundred miles, but we traveled 175 miles by the other route. We camped on the top of the mountains last night. The night before we did not go into camp until about ten o'clock, and then it began to rain furiously. We were in an open grass field and so we had to stand up and take it. It was a very heavy rain and the night was the worst I ever experienced. I sat up the entire night on a rock and kept dry with an oilcloth. Few men were so fortunate as to have so good a place to sit on as a rock. I am willing to endure almost anything, or to be deprived of almost everything, if we can have the pleasure of getting into Pennsylvania and letting the Yankees feel what it is to be invaded. Our army is very large now, and if we get into Maryland or Pennsylvania and Hooker engages us you may be certain that he will be severely whipped. General Lee and his army are bent on it. Our troops are in fine health and I have never before seen them get along half so well on a march. Not a man has given out since the rain. I believe they will fight better than they have ever done, if such a thing could be possible. I feel fine and have stood the march admirably. We have had plenty of meat and bread to eat since we started, and I got some good rich milk this morning at Front Royal.

From where I am writing this letter I can look around me and see one of the most beautiful and fertile countries. I do wish you could see it. My servant has gone to a farmhouse, and he stays so long that I believe he is having something cooked.

I shall write to you as often as I can; so goodby[e] to you and George.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 55-7

Brigadier-General Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, December 17, 1864

CAMP RUSSELL, December 17, 1864.

MY DARLING: — No certainty about things yet. We fired fifty guns yesterday and one hundred more today over General Thomas' great victories. How happy our men are. We had an inspection today of the brigade. The Twenty-third was pronounced the crack regiment in appearance, etc. It looks very finely — as large as you used to see it at Camp White, but so changed in officers and men. A great many new ones at Camp White; then three hundred of the Twelfth in July; and three hundred conscripts, volunteers, and substitutes since. I could see only six to ten in a company of the old men. They all smiled as I rode by. But as I passed away I couldn't help dropping a few natural tears. I felt as I did when I saw them mustered in at Camp Chase. Captain Abbott joined us today — a prisoner since Cloyd's Mountain. He is very happy to be back. He looks in good health, his arm not perfectly well.

Lieutenant McBride, the brave fellow who took Lieutenant Colonel Edgar and forty-two others at Winchester, is here again. Sweet and Snyder are back. Hastings is in capital spirits; says he will be well long before next spring campaign. Heiliger writes me that he wants to get a commission in Hancock's Veterans.

The band is playing its finest tonight. It contains all the old members and some good additions.

I have written the boys. I asked them how they would like to call the little soldier George Crook; they don't reply. - Love to all.

Affectionately ever,

R.

MRS. HAYES.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 549

Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to James Webb Hayes, November 30, 1864

CAMP RUSSELL, ARMY OF THE SHENANDOAH, VIRGINIA,

November 30, 1864.

MY DEAR SON: — I received a letter from your mother today in which she says that you are expecting a letter from me.

I am very glad to hear that you are studying your lessons very well.

What a funny name your mother has for your brother “the Little Soldier.” She thinks of calling him after one of her ancestors, Captain Bilious Cook. I would prefer George Crook to such a queer name as “Bilious."

We are having pleasant weather, and drill the officers and men every day. All the officers of the brigade were out today and we began with the musket drill, shoulder arms, etc. You would like to see our brigade have dress parade. The four regiments are formed in one line — the band and brigade flag in the middle. It makes a fine display.

[Continued on December 2, 1864.]

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 541-2

Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to James Webb Hayes, December 2, 1864

[Continued from letter of November 30, 1864.]

December 2. — You would have enjoyed being here yesterday. It was a fine warm day and we moved camp. One division of the Sixth Corps left to go south via Washington, perhaps to Grant. We moved our camp about a mile over to their ground. We are getting well fixed again. We hauled over our flooring and bunks, and they left a great deal of material, so we rather made by the change.

Your little letter pleased me very much. If you study hard you will soon be able to write a good long one. Give my love to Grandma, “the Little Soldier," and all the rest of your friends. If I don't get home by New Year's, you must write me about the holidays. — Good-bye.

Your affectionate father,

R. B. HAYES.

MASTER JAMES WEBB HAYES,
Chillicothe.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 541-2

Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Birchard Austin Hayes, November 4, 1864

CAMP CEDAR CREEK, VIRGINIA, November 4, 1864.

MY DEAR SON;— This is your birthday — eleven years old today — almost a man. In less than eleven years more, everybody will call you a man, you will have a man's work to do and will be expected to know as much as men know. But you are a good student and an industrious boy, and I have no fears of your being an ignorant or a lazy man.

I wish I could be with you today. I would buy you something that don't cost much, for I mustn't spend much now or I shan't have anything left for that new little brother of yours. Besides, I would tell you about the battles. Uncle Joe has all the good stories now. He says up in Winchester the people work for the soldiers to make a living — they wash and mend and bake. The soldiers say they bake two kinds of pies, “pegged” and "sewed"! The difference is the "pegged” have no sugar in them.

One boy in the Twenty-third was shot in the face. The ball entered near his nose and passed over or through the cheekbone up towards the outer corner of his eye. The surgeon thought it was a small bullet and fearing it would injure his eye to probe for it, let it alone. He got along very well for three weeks, when they cut it out near his temple. They were astonished to find that it was an iron grape-shot over an inch in diameter — as large as one of your India-rubber balls! He is well and never did suffer much!

There have been a good many changes in the Twenty-third and the First Brigade since you saw them last at Loup Creek. Captain McKinley is on General Crook's staff. He has not been wounded, but every one admires him as one of the bravest and finest young officers in the army. He has had two or three horses shot under him. General Crook said his mess was starving for want of a good cook, so we let him have Frank. Frank is doing well there. Billy Crump has been so faithful that a short time ago he was given a furlough, and is now with his wife. He is coming back soon. Lieutenant Mather is on my staff as provost marshal. He is the only one you are acquainted with.

The band is full; all of them safe and well. I hear them now playing for guard-mounting. We have many fine bands in this army, but none better than ours.

I have lost three horses killed or disabled since I saw you in July. I am now riding a "calico" horse lent to me by Captain Craig. My John horse is with me still, but he will never get fit to use again.

My orderly in the place of Carrington is Underhill of [the] Twenty-third, an excellent young man; you would like him better than Carrington.

Did I write your mother that I found my opera-glass again? It was lost at the battle of Fisher's Hill. I got it about three weeks afterwards from a Thirty-fourth soldier who found it near the first cannon we captured.

It is getting very cold. We build a sort of fireplace in our tents and manage to be pretty comfortable. You and Webb would enjoy being in this camp. There is a great deal to see and always something going on.

You must learn to write me letters now. My love to all the family, "Puds" and all.

Affectionately, your father,

R. B. HAYES.

MASTER S. B. [BIRCHARD A.] HAYES,
Chillicothe, Ohio.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 533-5

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: July 5, 1862

CELEBRATING THE FOURTH OF JULY. 

The Fourth was celebrated with salutes from the forts, batteries and gunboats, morning, noon and night. There were gala times in Camp Oliver last night. A huge bonfire was set from a pyramid of 75 barrels of resin, and when well on fire it lighted up the camp in grand style. All the regimental bands were present, and under the direction of P. S. Gilmore, leader of the 24th Massachusetts regimental band, were consolidated, and gave a grand concert with artillery accompaniment. The effect was very fine. The camp guard was taken off and all went in for a good time. The parade ground was covered with officers and soldiers from other camps, and officers and marines from the boats and citizens generally. The delighted darkies were on hand in force. It far surpassed anything they had ever heard or dreamed of. They are very fond of music, and gathered in great numbers in the vicinity of the bands, never noticing the battery which stood a short distance away, or if they did it was a sealed book to them and a harmless looking battery enough. After the bands had played a few selections they struck up Hail Columbia; and when in quick succession three or four of those guns were let off, there was a great scarcity of darkies. They are terribly frightened at artillery firing, and will make the distance between themselves and the guns as far and as quick as possible. The celebration was kept up till near midnight; everybody seemed to enjoy it and had a good time. If we were behind Boston in orations, floral exhibitions and the like of that, we certainly were ahead of them in music, salutes and fireworks. 

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 64

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: July 25, 1862

COMPANY DRILLS. 

The colonel, thinking that guard duty and dress parades are not quite exercise enough for us, has ordered company drills in the forenoon. The company officers do not take very kindly to this, and thinking it a good opportunity to give the sergeants a little practice in drilling the companies, they shirk out of it every time they can invent an excuse to do so. 

The companies are seen out under command of the orderlies or some other of the sergeants frequently. B company moves out of the company street on to the parade ground, and after executing a few brilliant maneuvers, starts off across the fields to the Trent road, a little out of sight of the camp, and here in the shade of the trees we sit down and await the recall, when we march back into camp with all the pomp and circumstance of glorious war. The duty has been performed and everybody seems well enough satisfied, except perhaps the performers. 

PATRIOTISM SUPPRESSED. 

And now, right here under the broad banner of freedom, personal liberty and rising patriotism has been suppressed. A party of small darky boys organized themselves into a drum corps and furnished themselves with old tin pans and kettles for an outfit. Being natural musicians, they soon acquired the art of drumming, and when they thought they could make a creditable appearance before the public appeared one evening, standing just outside the guard in front of our dress parade. When the band led off down the line the little fellows commenced putting in their work, and they certainly did a good job, as they beat the time very well. But the thing was so ludicrous it was with difficulty the band could perform their part, and many of the boys in the line could not restrain their daughter. The little fellows seemed to enjoy it immensely, and would put in an appearance every evening, until the colonel finding it impossible to have a decent dress parade ordered the guard officers to suppress the amateur band, very much I presume against his inclination and feelings. 

MISS FOSTER. 

Gen. Foster has his wife and daughter with him here, which must make it very agreeable for him. Mrs. Foster is engaged in works of love and mercy around the hospitals, while Miss Foster, a young lady of some 16 or 17 years, is pretty much engaged in horseback riding and having a good time generally. She is quite a military character, as we notice that when she and the general ride past here, she always returns the salutes from the sentinels as gracefully as the general. She frequently rides past here alone, and the sentinels along the street take great pride in honoring her with a present arms, a compliment which she never fails to acknowledge by a graceful wave of her hand and her face wreathed with smiles. 

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 64-5

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: September 20, 1862

WE LOSE OUR BANDS. 

All the regimental bands have been mustered out and have gone home. Ours left the first of this month, and it seems quite lonely to have them gone. They were the solace of many a weary hour. I understand that this is in the interest of economy, the hands costing so much it was thought best to let them go. I also learn that the officers’ pay has been raised, so just where the saving comes in does not appear. As I am only an enlisted man I am not supposed to see things quite so clearly, so I presume it is all right any way, but we think it is rather sharp economy. 

A TRIP TO PLYMOUTH, N. C. 

On the 15th of this month, the 25th, Major Pickett in command, with the 17th Massachusetts and the 10th Connecticut regiments, the whole under command of Col. Upton, embarked on steamers bound for Plymouth, on the Roanoke river which empties into the Albemarle sound at its extreme western end. On the morning of the 16th we passed Roanoke island, and our attention was attracted towards it as being the scene of our first conflict and success. We soon afterward entered the Albemarle sound, a beautiful sheet of water running east and west, about 70 miles long with an average width of some 20 miles. It was a beautiful day, and the sail, as we slowly steamed along, was delightful, affording us a fine view of the shores. The shores were in striking contrast; the south shore is low and swampy, rising scarcely out of the water, while the north is bold, with a gently rising slope and shows many handsome farms. The scenery here is the first that has reminded us of home, and looks as though it was inhabited by a better class of people than we have yet seen. 

About dusk we reach the upper end of the sound, and turning sharply to the left, enter the woods, where the overhanging branches of the tall trees seem almost to embrace each other. We are now in the Roanoke river, which is here quite narrow. In the dusk of the evening, as we grope our way along the narrow channel through the trees, the scenery is grandly wild. Some five or six miles through the woods brought us to the little town of Plymouth, situated on the left or south bank of the river. Here we drop anchor for the night, and wait until morning to learn more of our excursion. 

The next morning we learned the expedition had been given up, and we steamed back down the river on our return trip, without scarcely getting a glimpse of Plymouth. On coming out into the sound we could see the little town of Edenton on the north shore, hid away in a little nook of the sound, and almost buried in trees. From our standpoint it looked like a charming little town. It is occasionally occupied by our troops and the gunboats make frequent calls there. The only setback to the pleasure of the trip down the sound was the annoyance caused the officers by the hilarity of the boys who entered into the spirit of fun and seemed to be bent on having a general good time. The officers occupied the saloon and were greatly disturbed by the noise and racket on deck over their heads. They would often send up and order the boys to keep more quiet as the noise disturbed them. The boys of course would respect their wishes, and for a time all would be quiet, but soon another party would come on deck, from some other part of the boat, and bedlam would again break loose. The officers had my commiseration; I exercised all my authority to preserve order and would willingly have done anything that lay in my power to have alleviated their sufferings, for it is not surprising that men brought up in machine shops, rolling mills, foundries and like places should be possessed of rather sensitive nerves. 

We arrived back at Newbern, the morning of the 18th, having had a pleasant excursion of about 400 miles, and if we could have had our band with us the thing would have been complete. It seems the object of our visit to Plymouth was for the officers of the expedition to consult with the military and naval officers at that station in regard to the expediency of dislodging the enemy's forces at Rainbow bluff, a point some 30 miles the river, which prevents our boats from ascending higher up, and which they cannot shell out. At the council of officers it was decided that if we should succeed in capturing it, it would be without results, as it is of no military consequence to us, and that it would be unwise to risk men in an enterprise that would be barren in results. Hence our return to Newbern. 

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 66-8

Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, August 2, 1864

 CAMP NEAR WOLFSVILLE, MARYLAND, August 2, 1864.

MY DARLING:- We are having a jolly good time about sixteen miles north of Middletown, resting the men, living on the fat of the land, among these loyal, friendly people. We are supposed to be watching a Rebel invasion. Our cavalry is after the Rebel cavalry and I hope will do something. Averell is a poor stick. Duffie is willing and brave and will do what he can. Powell is the real man and will do what a small force can do. I suspect there is nothing for us to do here that is, that no (Rebel) infantry are here.

I saw Colonel Brown. — Hayes Douglass was, I am told, to be in our division. I am sorry he is not. I have not seen him.

The Rudys I saw Sunday. They were so kind and cordial. They all inquired after you. The girls have grown pretty – quite pretty. Mr. Rudy said if I was wounded he would come a hundred miles to get me. Queer old neighborhood this. They sell goods at the country store at old prices and give silver in change! Dr. Joe bought good shoes for two dollars and twenty-five cents a pair.

We are in the Middletown Valley, by the side of a fine mountain stream. We get milk, eggs, and good bread. All hope to stay here always — but I suppose we shall soon dance. We have campaigned so long that our discipline and strength are greatly deteriorated.

I read the correct list of killed, wounded, etc., of [the] Twenty-third this A. M. It contains scarcely any names you would know. With two-thirds of the regiment composed of new recruits and Twelfth men this would of course be so. The band astonished our rural friends with their music last night. They never saw Federal soldiers here before. They have twice been robbed by Rebel raiders and so are ready to admire all they see and hear. Love to all.

Affectionately ever,

R.

MRS. HAYES.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 489-90

Captain Charles Wright Wills: November 30, 1864

Eight miles east of Summerville, 

November 30, 1864. 

Passed through the above named town this morning. All pine woods again to-day. Stopped at the first house I came to this morning and asked the resident, an ashcolored negress, something about the country. She said she'd had the chills and fever so long she didn't know anything, but “over dar was a house whar de folks had some sense.” Captain Smith and I walked over to the house she pointed to and found a fine old German, very anxious to know if we intended to burn his house. After he cooled down a little he grew much Union. He said he had been ordered to join the army one, two, three, twenty times, but had told them he would rather be shot than take up arms against the United States. The 12th Indiana band struck up as we passed his house, and the music touched the old fellow's heart. The tears rolled down his face and he blubbered out, “That is the first music I have heard for four years; it makes me think of home. D--n this Georgia pine wood.” He said that sugar is the staple here in peace times. The foragers brought in loads of it this evening. 

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 329

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Monday, April 7, 1862

Last night was a doleful night as the soldiers laid in this wilderness by the Tennessee. All night long there was a chilling rain, and the April wind sighed mournfully around the suffering, wounded warriors. Many a wounded soldier died last night. During the weary hours the insatiate archer was making silent steps.

"One quivering motion, one convulsive throe,

And the freed spirits took their upward flight.”

Would that God would roll back the storms of war and temper the hearts of men ere any more human blood flows down like rivulets to crimson the beautiful waters of the Cumberland and Tennessee. But oh! it seems that more blood must flow; that away up yonder, in those cottage homes, where the prairie winds blow, more tears must sparkle, fall and perish; that more hearts must be broken-more hopes dashed down—more doomed

"In their nightly dreams to hear

The bolts of war around them rattle."

Hark! we hear a rumble and a roar. It is a rattle of musketry and the terrible knell from the cannon's mouth. We are marched to the front, where we find Nelson engaged. His hounds of war are let loose. Inroads are being made. The Seventh is filed into position and ordered to lie down. Though the enemy has given ground, they still show stubbornness. We are now in a sharp place; there is some uneasiness here. A cold chill creeps over the soldiers. How uncomfortable it is to be compelled to remain inactive when these whizzing minies come screaming through the air on their mission of death. From such places, under such circumstances, the Seventh would ever wish to be excused, for it grates harshly with the soldier, and is exceedingly distressing when he is prevented from returning compliment for compliment, as the Seventh will testify to-day. But we do not remain here long, for from this place of inactivity, we are moved to a place of action. The battle is raging furiously. The army of the Ohio and the army of the Tennessee are striking hand to hand. The tables are turning; step by step the rebels are being driven. Position after position the Seventh is now taking. The sharp, positive crack of their musketry makes a terrible din along their line. It is apparent that the rebels are retreating. Another day is waning; a day of sacrifice; a day in which has been held a high carnival of blood on Shiloh's plain. Many patriot, loyal soldiers died to-day, and as they died, many of them were seen to smile as they saw the old flag, the pride of their hearts, riding so proudly over the bloody field. Many shed a tear of joy as they beheld the beautiful streams of light falling on the crimson wings of conquest.

The rebels are now flying. Nelson is making a terrible wreck in the rear of the retreating army. Kind reader, stand with me now where the Seventh stands; look away yonder! Your eye never beheld a grander sight. It is the northwest's positive tread. They move firmly; there is harmony in their steps. Ten thousand bayonets flash in the blazing sunlight. They are moving in columns on the bloody plain. Their tramp sounds like a death knell. The band is playing “Hail to the chief.” Its martial anthems seem to float as it were on golden chords through air, and as they fall around the weary soldier their hopes of glory beat high. They are retreating now; the rear of the rebel army is fast fading from Shiloh's. field. Before the north west's mighty power how they dwindle into littleness, as turrets and spires beneath the stars. They are far away now, and the great battle of Shiloh is over; the fierce wild drama is ended; the curtain falls; the sun is hid, and night has come. The Seventh goes into camp on the battle-field; their camp fires are soon burning, and those noble ones, who have fought so well, lie down, worn and weary, to rest themselves. They have passed through two days of fearful battle; amid thunder, smoke and perils they bore their tattered flag, and when the storm-king was making his most wrathful strides, it still waved in the wind and never went down, for strong arms were there and they held it up. But how painful it is to know that some comrades who were with us in the morning, are not with us now. They have fallen and died-died in the early morning of life. And why did they die? A royal herald will answer, for a country, for a home, for a name. Come walk with me now while the tired soldiers are sleeping. Who is this who lays here beneath this oak, in such agony, such convulsive throes? It is a soldier in gray; a wounded rebel who fought against the old flag to-day. But he is dying; his life is almost gone; he is dead now. Oh! how sad it makes one feel to see a soldier die, and how we pity him who has just died; pity him because he has fallen in such a desperate cause; pity him because no royal herald will ever write his name on the sacred scroll of fame.

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 54-7

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: February 3, 1862

A GALA DAY.

The winds have ceased, and the sea is as calm as an honest man's conscience. Companies are parading the decks of the steamers, a dozen bands are out playing, everybody is feeling good, and altogether, we are having quite an enlivening scene. Business is brisk today; all the boats are in the sound, and schooners are alongside of them, supplying them with coal, water and rations, preparatory to a trip up the sound. Everything now seems to be nearly ready, and I expect that some fine morning we will make a call on our southern friends. No doubt they will be delighted to see us, and as they say, to welcome us with bloody hands to hospitable graves; but perhaps it has never occurred to them that in a reception of that kind, they, perchance, may fill some of the aforesaid graves. I had much rather they would welcome us to a good dinner of fishballs than cannon balls; but I suppose they will have their own choice of reception and we must reciprocate the best we can.

Merchandise brings a right smart price in this market, and a man needs a heavy purse to purchase very extensively. I paid $1 for the same quantity of tobacco, I bought at home for forty cents.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 31

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: January 25, 1862

THE STORM OVER.

The storm is at last over, for to-day at least. It has cleared off warm and pleasant, and is the first bright day since we came here. Business is brisk to-day; all is bustle and hurry. There is quite a change of scene, the boats’ decks are covered with soldiers, shouting and cheering each other; the bands are all out playing, and altogether it is quite a contrast to the miserable life we have been living. Our attention is taken up watching the operations going on in the harbor, among the shipping. Steamers are being towed across the swash into the sound, and steamers and tugs are at work straining every nerve to pull off the boats that are ashore. It makes fun for the boys watching them pull. Five or six steamers and tugs are at work trying to pull off the Eastern Queen, on which are the 4th Rhode Island boys, and when they all pull together it seems as though they would pull her in two. Sometimes she seems to start a little, and then stick again; the boats will give a steady pull for an hour before she will start again. Occasionally a big cable will break, and it is fun to watch the agility of the boys, dodging the recoil of the cable ends.

The big steamer Northerner attempted to cross the sound at flood tide this morning, and stuck in the middle. She carries the 21st Massachusetts, and I think they will have to be taken off before she can get across. A number of boats and tugs are at work, trying to pull her across. If the Northerner sticks, going across at high water, how we are to cross is a problem yet to be solved, as the New York draws six inches more water than the Northerner.

SICK HORSES.

The horses do not appear to stand hardships and privations as well as the men. On short feed, condensed sea water, with no exercise, they grow sick and debilitated. A schooner is lying but a short distance from us, with a deck-load of horses, belonging to a Rhode Island battery, and they are jumping them overboard, and swimming them ashore. It is curious to observe the horses as they are led up to the gangway; to see them brace themselves back and shudder to take the fearful leap. But a little encouragement from half a dozen men in their rear pushing them, over they go, and as they come up out of the water, they shake their heads and snort, and put for the nearest land, where they are rubbed dry, blanketed and led off up the island.

ACROSS THE SWASH.

The Northerner has crossed into the sound, and anchored. As she got off and moved into the sound, cheer after cheer went up from all the fleet, the bands playing and all having a big time generally.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 27-8