Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Thursday, July 21, 1864

Marched hard all night and daylight found us nearly through the gap; have marched hard — fairly raced —all day; brought up on the east side of Goose Creek again, where we are in camp for the night tired and worn out. We marched through Leesburg with stars and stripes waving and bands playing national airs, something unusual for us to do without it's a large place. Rumor says that our rear guard burned the place, but I don't believe it, although it has the reputation of being strongly rebel — a regular hotbed.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 125-6

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: June 21, 1862

Camp Jones, Flat Top. — . . . Rather agreeable social evenings with the officers at my quarters, the band enlivening us with its good music.

Dr. McCurdy having been appointed inspector of hospitals for this division, we had a Dr. Hudson, of Medina, a new state surgeon, assigned to us as assistant surgeon in Dr. McCurdy's place. Dr. Hudson turns out to be a thin-skinned, nervous, whimsical, whining Yankee. He has just heard of the death of a favorite daughter. His grief loses all respectability, coupled as it is with his weaknesses and follies. We agreed today with Dr. Holmes (the medical head man) to swap our Dr. Hudson “unsight, unseen” for any spare doctor he could turn out. We find we caught a Dr. Barrett, lately of Wooster, a young man of good repute. We take him, pleased well with the bargain.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 291-2

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Saturday, June 25, 1864

Still we are behind our works sweltering in the sun. The only way we can possibly keep comfortable is to stick up brush which gives us a little shade; enemy made no attack last night as expected on our left. The Second Corps was attacked during the night, the enemy gaining some advantage, but our troops rallied and regained what they had lost. It's quite comfortable this evening; the bands are all playing, and seem determined to help us pass the time as pleasantly as possible in spite of our uncomfortable surroundings. But if we are uncomfortable what condition must the enemy be in? It's a poor soldier who never thinks of such things.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 88-9

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Sunday, May 25, 1862

Camp Flat Top Mountain. — Bright, clear, and bracing. My cold no better yet, but no worse. I hope it has reached the turning-point. All suspense in military matters, awaiting result at Corinth and Richmond. The three Companies, A, E, and K of Twenty-third, sent to Packs Ferry were ordered in yesterday, as if much needed. They marched in the rain and darkness seventeen miles last night and six this morning; the severest trial they have had. It was too bad, too bad.

Sacred music by the band at sundown. Captain Evans, a Cincinnati boy of [the] Thirty-fourth Zouaves, called to see me. Queer people meet here. The Thirty-seventh and the Thirty-fourth (Zouaves) suffered badly in the skirmishing about Princeton. About sixty wounded (of ours) came up tonight, having been exchanged, from Princeton.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 278

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Sunday, June 12, 1864

Relieved the skirmish line yesterday without great difficulty; all quiet through the night; not a gun fired to-day thus far in front of us; can hear the rebs talk and sing quite plain in our immediate front; was informed this afternoon the army would move tonight at 7 o'clock; dread leaving the skirmish line, but I suppose we can do it; very quiet this evening; bands playing and big guns booming; wonder if it isn't a bluff? The moon is shining brightly.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 80

Diary of John Hay: May 11, 1861

This afternoon the Marine Band played on the south lawn, and Carl Schurz sat with Lincoln on the balcony. After the President had kissed some thousand children, Carl went into the library and developed a new accomplishment. He played with great skill and feeling, sitting in the dusk twilight at the piano until the President came by, and took him down to tea. Schurz is a wonderful man. An orator, a soldier, a philosopher, and exiled patriot, a skilled musician! He has every quality of romance and of dramatic picturesqueness. . . .

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 34; Tyler Dennett, Editor, Lincoln and the Civil War in the Diaries and Letters of John Hay, p. 23.

Diary of John Hay: May 9, 1861

. . . There was a very fine matinee at the Navy Yard given by some musical members of the 12th New York. They sang well, the band played well, and the President listened well. After the programme the President begged for the Marseillaise. The prime gentleman gave the first verse and then generously repeated it, interpolating nonchalantly “Liberty or Death” in place of “Abreuve nos sillons” which he had forgotten.

Then we went down to the Pensacola and observed the shooting of the great Dahlgren gun Plymouth. . . . The President was delighted. . . .

SOURCE: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 32

Diary of John Hay: April 26, 1861

Massachusetts and Rhode Island troops in large numbers arrived to-day. . . . I called on Sprague, the Governor of Rhode Island, with Nicolay. A small insignificant youth, who bought his place; but who is certainly all right now. He is very proud of his company, of its wealth and social standing.

Carl Schurz was here to-day. He spoke with wild enthusiasm of his desire to mingle in this war. He has great confidence in his capability of arousing the enthusiasm of the young. He contemplates the career of a great guerilla chief with ardent longing. He objects to the taking of Charleston and advises forays on the interior states. . . .

The Seventh Regiment band played gloriously on the shaven lawn at the south front of the Executive Mansion. The scene was very beautiful. Through the luxuriant grounds, the gaily dressed crowd idly strolled, soldiers loafed on the promenades, the martial music filled the sweet air with vague suggestion of heroism, and Carl Schurz and the President talked war.

SOURCES: Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 25-6; Tyler Dennett, Editor, Lincoln and the Civil War in the Diaries and Letters of John Hay, p. 12; Michael Burlingame & John R. Turner Ettlinger, Editors; Inside Lincoln's White House: The Complete Civil War Diary of John Hay, p. 12

Diary of Sergeant George G. Smith: May 23, 1863

We arrived [at Simsport]. This place is simply a point where the Red River road crosses the Atchaffalaya Bayou. There are two or three houses in sight. On the way heavy cannonading was heard in the direction of Port Hudson, and an orderly came back and reported that Vicksburg had fallen and Port Hudson was on fire and about ready to surrender. So the army halted in the road under a broiling sun, and the band played “The Star Spangled Banner,” and the army cheered to the echo. Many negroes had collected here from the surrounding plantations. At 8 p. m. the First Louisiana embarked on the St. Maurice bound for Bayou Sara. Stayed up until we passed into Red River, thence into the Mississippi, when I retired.

SOURCE: Abstracted from George G. Smith, Leaves from a Soldier's Diary, p. 55-6

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: June 30, 1865

Very early this fine June morning our fife and drum corps went to the uppermost deck and beat the reveille, and played at all the river landings as the boat proceeded on up the river. It made good time, landing at Hartford about 7 o'clock, after a very pleasant journey from Martinsburg, West Virginia.

After we landed people began to come to the dock. After a time a detachment of the Hartford City Guard came to the dock as an escort. The regiment formed and with the escort, marched up State Street, thence up Main, countermarching to the State Capitol on Central Row, where Governor Buckingham, members of the legislature, and a few leading citizens, welcomed us home, and extended the thanks of the state for our patriotism and service. After the welcome and the addresses, breakfast was served at the hotels, our company going to the City Hotel. In the afternoon, regiment formed, marched out Park Street to a camp. Late in the afternoon we were allowed to go to our homes and remain over July 4th. Report back on the 6th for final discharge. Norwich. Home again.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 159-60

Diary of Luman Harris Tenney: Monday, September 1, 1862

Reveille in the morning at 3 A. M. Breakfasted and started in the advance. Crossed Drywood and grazed. Got into camp in time for dinner. Sandy cooking, and several officers boarding with the Major. Found a letter from Ella Clark, very welcome. I have a high regard for her. Boys fully convinced that we would soon get mustered out of service. Band went to Leavenworth and home this morning. Boys think can get away in ten or fifteen days. In the evening wrote home. Boys all talking about home visits.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 29-30

Diary of Corporal Charles H. Lynch: April 19, 1865

All duty except guard and picket suspended since the assassination of Mr. Lincoln. These are days of mourning. Officers wear crape on the left arm and on the hilts of swords for thirty days. The funeral takes place today in Washington. The towns-people have arranged for a funeral parade and service to be held in the Court House. Our regimental band is engaged to furnish the music for the procession. On the march a coffin was carried, making a solemn appearance as the funeral procession marched to the cemetery where the coffin was buried. The whole thing was in charge of the towns-people. It was a very strange proceeding in the eyes of down-east Yankees. It was a very solemn occasion all through, to the burial of the coffin.

SOURCE: Charles H. Lynch, The Civil War Diary, 1862-1865, of Charles H. Lynch 18th Conn. Vol's, p. 149-50

Brigadier-General William F. Bartlett to Harriet Plummer, July 23, 1864

Headquarters First Brigade, First Division,

Ninth Army Corps.

Before Petersburg, Va., July 23, 1864. Evening.

My Dear Mother, — This is the first day since I left Washington that I have been able to write at all. Perhaps you will have thought that you ought to hear from me before this reaches you; but I have taken the first opportunity and have not forgotten your injunctions. I left Washington Tuesday P. M., reached here Wednesday P. M. Came from Fortress Monroe on despatch boat with General Ingalls, Chief Quartermaster of Army, with whom I dined at City Point, where his headquarters are. By chance found the Chaplain at the Point, and sent for my horses. Ned and Billy were both looking finely. After dinner started for the front. Got as far as my Quartermaster's camp, and as it began to rain, I stayed there all night with him. I slept very well my first night on the ground. In the morning a black snake over six feet long was killed within a few feet of my bed. After breakfast, rode on up to Division Hospital, where I found Dr. White, and several old letters, among them the Nut's of June 6, which I found time to read to-day. Afterwards went to Burnside's Headquarters to report for duty. He was not in. I dined with some of the staff; saw the General later. He was glad to see me. I am assigned, as I supposed, to the command of the First Brigade, First Division. General Ledlie commands the Division. There are now six Massachusetts regiments and one Pennsylvania in the brigade, not numbering more than 1,300 men altogether, present for duty. If the regiments were filled up it would be one of the largest and best brigades in the Army, being all Massachusetts troops. I am trying to get C. B. Amory, of Jamaica Plains, formerly of the Twenty-fourth Regiment, who has been appointed Assistant Adjutant-general, transferred to this brigade. I shall use for the present the staff that is here . . . . the surgeon, a Dr. Ingalls, of Boston, Fifty-ninth Regiment, who is very much of a gentleman. I slept last night and the night before at Division Headquarters with Adjutant-general Mills, Fifty-sixth. He was hoping that I would take the Division, but it seems Ledlie has withdrawn his resignation. The brigade is in two lines of breastworks, one hundred yards apart, in the front of the enemy's works and within two hundred yards in some places. Brigade Headquarters are two hundred and fifty yards in rear of the second line. Division Headquarters two hundred yards in rear of brigade; so you see all are in easy musket range of the enemy. We are in pine woods, the trees not very thick. The Headquarters have to be protected by a stockade of logs against bullets, which are constantly coming through here. Four officers of the Fifty-seventh have been hit since I got here, one killed, three very badly wounded, in the second line. Our stockade does not protect us against shells, which fall in front and rear of us, but have not hit the Headquarters yet. Some fall way in the rear of Division Headquarters, and some near Corps Headquarters, which are about one fourth of a mile in rear of Division. We have a stockade to protect the horses, too, but one of the orderlies' horses and one of General Ledlie's were killed the other day. A bullet goes whizzing over my tent every few minutes as I write, and goes thud into one of the trees near, with a sound that makes you think what a headache that would have given you if your head had been where the tree was. The bullets patter like rain at times against the outside of this stockade of logs, the inside of which my elbow touches as I write. It is a continual rattle of musketry, sometimes swelling into a roar along the line, and varied with the artillery and mortars. So you see we are liable at any moment to be struck, even while reading a paper or eating dinner. A bullet went through Dr. Anderson's table as he was eating breakfast this morning. You must be prepared to hear the worst of me at any time. God grant it may not come, for your sake, and for the sake of all I love and who love me at home. But you must be prepared for it. It is wearing to body and mind, this being constantly under fire. People at the North who are enjoying themselves and thinking of nothing but making money, little appreciate what this brave army is enduring every day and hour for them, and how much more cheerful and hopeful they are than people at home. I wish some of the patriotic (?) ones at home who are making speeches (and money), would just come out here and spend a week, even back here at my Headquarters. They would not care to go down to the lines where the men are day and night fighting for their security and safety. I came over here this morning and assumed command. Tomorrow I must go down and examine the lines, which is of course dangerous; but trust I shall get back safely. I shan't go there any oftener than is necessary, but it is my duty to visit them occasionally. To give you an idea of the firing that is going on constantly, I will count the shots in the next minute. It is more quiet than usual to-night. Eighty-one, and one heavy mortar shell, which burst in the air between here and second line, but sounded as if it were in the next tent. “There!” at that moment a bullet went whizzing through between mine and the one next, just above the stockade (which is a little higher than your head when sitting), and struck down somewhere between here and Division Headquarters, near where the horses are. So you see this letter is written literally under fire. I am feeling very well, my leg is better in the saddle than it was before. I have got my valise, etc., and shall be quite comfortable in a day or two (under the circumstances), if I am spared so long. I intend to have this stockade built higher to-morrow, so as to afford more protection from bullets. If the rebs knew just where our Headquarters are, they would shell us out from here in three minutes; but fortunately they don't, and can only guess. They guess inconveniently near at times. As I may not have time to write, you can let Frank Palfrey and Ben see this letter, if you see them, and if the Nut chooses to copy it she can, and send it to Aunt.

There goes another bullet. Frank Palfrey will readily understand and appreciate our position here. I hope I shall hear from you soon. The mail comes regularly every night. I will write as often as I can. Have other letters to write to-night, so will finish this. There is one pleasant thing to relieve the wear of this, — I have a good band here at Headquarters, and it plays at intervals through the day and evening, protected by a stockade. The rebs have the benefit of it as much as I do, but I can't help it. They favor us with a band sometimes. Tell the Nut and Miss Barnett that they just played “When Johnny comes Marching Home,” and “Faust.” “Thud;” there go two ugly bullets into a tree near by, one of them, George thinks, went through the upper part of the tent. How should you like to lie down and go to sleep with this going on all night? I expect to sleep soundly. I have for two nights. With much love to all,

Ever your affectionate son,

W. F. B.

Zip prrrrrr goes the last bullet you will hear, for I close this now. That one went over to Division Headquarters. Here's another before I could get my pen off the paper. Good-night.

SOURCE: Francis Winthrop Palfrey, Memoir of William Francis Bartlett, p. 110-5

Diary of Sergeant George G. Smith: March 14, 1863

At 3 a.m. long roll sounded and the First Louisiana fell into line. Colonel Holcomb gave instructions to be ready to embark at the earliest possible moment and ordered the troops to break ranks. Soon bon-fires were in every company street and beds, camp furniture and everything the soldiers could not carry in their knapsacks was going up in smoke. As soon as daylight came the good people of Donaldsonville began to find out what was going on and came flocking into camp. A kind of intimacy or friendship had sprung up between the citizens and soldiers of the First Louisiana and on this occasion the sentiment was exhibited in its full light. Many good byes were said and many affectionate leave takings were seen. I noticed it was the home of many of the members of the regiment and reminded me of a regiment leaving home in the North land for the seat of war. At 11 o'clock a. m., the regiment was all on board the good steamer Iberville, and to the tune of the “Mocking Bird” by the band, and amid the waving of handkerchiefs and other manifestations of friendship we bade adieu perhaps forever to Donaldsonville. At 5 p. m. we landed in Baton Rouge, disembarked and marched about a mile in rear of the town and camped in the tents of the Thirtieth Massachusetts regiment. The main forces had arrived before we did and had been disposed in line of battle: the right resting in rear of Port Hudson and the left at Baton Rouge, a distance of eighteen miles.

SOURCE: Abstracted from George G. Smith, Leaves from a Soldier's Diary, p. 39-40

Diary of Sergeant George G. Smith: February 9, 1863

This day will be remembered by the First Louisiana by the event of raising the flag on the new fort. It was now about completed. Six large 24 pound cannon had been mounted on the parapets, and our company(C) had been detailed to man the guns. It was what is termed a (star fort) having salient and re-enterant angles. Two sides were protected by the river and bayou Lafourche. The others by a deep moat or ditch nicely bricked up inside. The parapet was made of sand and nicely turfed: ambrasures being left for the guns; Altogether it presented a very pretty appearance. The raising of the flag and christning of the fort was in this wise, by 10 o'clock a. m., the regiment was formed in square around the flag pole in the center of the fort with officers, ladies and citizens in the center. An interesting young lady by the name of Miss Weber was selected to preside on the occasion. A table was placed in the center on which the flag rested with the halyards attached. The men were stationed at the guns- Everything being in readiness, an officer passed the bottle of champagne to Miss Weber. At the signal she smashed the bottle spilling the contents on the flag, at the same time exclaiming “I christen thee Fort Butler”. This done the flag ascended slowly to the peak of the mast, amid the booming of cannon, soul stiring strains of the “Star Spangled Banner”, by the band, and shouting of the spectators. This lasted about twenty minutes, when we were entertained with a speech by the chaplain and Col. Holcomb. The latter told the people of Donaldsonville, “That was the flag under which their fathers had fought for freedom. It was the flag, under the protection of whose ample folds, their little city had sprung up from the wilderness like the garden of Eden. But since they had forsaken its protection, and with inpious hands had torn it from its place, their city had “become as Sodom and like unto Gomorrah.” “He closed by saying that, “Whoever attempted to pull that flag down, he would shoot him on the spot.”

SOURCE: Abstracted from George G. Smith, Leaves from a Soldier's Diary, p. 37-8

Lieutenant Colonel Charles Fessenden Morse: October 26, 1864

Atlanta, Ga., October 26, 1864.

Yesterday, Captain Crowninshield and Mr. Storrow arrived, after a long journey of thirty days. I think Storrow will prove a good officer; I like his looks very much.

We are still occupying our mansion, quietly living on the fat of the land. Every other day, a forage train of seven or eight hundred wagons goes out about twenty miles into the country, and comes back the third or fourth day loaded with corn, sweet potatoes, flour, chickens, etc. Yesterday, our small mess wagon brought in two barrels of flour, two or three sacks of sweet potatoes, a dozen chickens and ducks, a jar of honey, a keg of sorghum, and several other small articles; so you see that we are not likely to starve for some time to come.

General Sherman says that, as the Georgians have seen fit to get in our rear and break our railroad, we must live on Georgia. Of course, very heavy guards have to go with these trains, for the country is full of cavalry; thus far, however, they have all returned safely.

We keep a cow in our back garden, and have cream in our coffee and new butter every day; we also keep ducks and pigeons. In the city there are concerts or negro minstrel entertainments every night; the concerts by the Thirty-third Massachusetts Band are very good indeed.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 195

Lieutenant Colonel Charles Fessenden Morse: September 25, 1864

Atlanta, Ga., September 25, 1864.

It would surprise you, or any one else outside of the army, to see what an important military post Atlanta has already become; the storehouses in the vicinity of the depots are piled full of commissary, quartermaster and ordnance stores, and, even now, we are thirty days ahead on rations; the tracks are crowded with cars and engines, and to all appearances, there is as much going on in the centre of the city as in the busiest parts of New York or Boston. Most of the families have moved out, though a number still remain, probably with the intention of staying until they are actually forced from the city. The family from our house left on Tuesday, for Nashville; I felt quite sorry to have them go; they made very pleasant society for us, and it seemed very much like home, living with them. We are now in entire possession of their house, and are living in state and style. The house is a new and very fine one, built of brick with stone trimmings, every part of it finished in good shape.

Isn't a soldier's life a queer one? One month ago, we were lying on the ground in a shelter tent, with nothing but pork and hard bread to eat; now we are in an elegant house, take our dinner at half-past five, and feel disposed to growl if we don't have a good soup and roast meat with dessert; after that, we smoke good cigars on the piazza and have a band play for us.

What a splendid victory was that of Sheridan's! I have never spoken of Dr. Heath's death; he is a great loss to us every way, — the best surgeon we ever had, and a pleasant, genial companion.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 193

Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, Sunday, April 20, 1862

Camp Near Beckley's, Easter Sunday, April 20, 1862.

Dearest: — We left Raleigh the day before yesterday and came here intending to continue our march at least as far south as Flat Top Mountain. But just as we had got our tents up the rain began to fall and by morning all movement was out of the question. It has rained ever since. The streets of the camp are trodden into mortar-beds, the weather is getting cold, and you would naturally think that a gloomier set of fellows could hardly be found. But we are jolly enough. A year ago we used to read of these things and sympathize with the suffering soldiers. But a year of use has changed all that. Like sailors in a storm, the soldiers seem stimulated to unnatural mirth by the gloomy circumstances. We are guessing as to when it will stop. We hope this is the last day of the storm, but there is no trusting to experience in the Virginia mountains. Every new storm has a new set of phenomena. The men sing a great deal, play fiddle, banjo, etc. At the stated calls, the fifer, buglers, and band exert themselves to play their liveliest airs, and so we manage to get on.

I (when alone) get out your two pictures and have a quiet talk with you. Joe is in the next tent with Major Comly and Dr. McCurdy singing sacred music. I am alone in a tall Sibley tent writing this on a book on my knee, my ink on my trunk. The mess-chest open is before me; next to it, saddle, etc., then India-rubber cloth and leggings, old hat, haversack, glass, and saddle-bags; by my side, trunk; behind me cot with overcoat and duds, and on the other side of the tent Avery's truck in similar disorder. We have a sheet-iron stove in the centre — no fire now. So you see us on a muddy sidehill. I can't find time to write often now. If we are resting I don't feel like writing; when going, of course I can't.

Send this to Mother Hayes. She is seventy years old this month, about these days. She will think I am forgetting her if I don't send her some “scrabble” (western Virginia for "scribbling") of mine. — Love to all at home.

Affectionately, your

R.

Mrs. Hayes.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 232-3

Lieutenant Colonel Charles Fessenden Morse: September 13, 1864

Atlanta, Ga., September 13, 1864.

The families are fast moving South; a large wagon train goes out each day, conveying them to General Hood's lines. The family in whose house our rooms are, is going North; I wish they were going to stay, so that we might continue to enjoy the nice beds and furniture. However, we shall have our balcony left, on which we spend our evenings. It is quite a place of resort for the staff officers and others in town who call on us, especially as our brigade band, or the Thirty-third Massachusetts', plays in front of the house almost every night. I enclose some pieces of a rebel flag which was captured here and presented to me; they will answer as a memento of our entrance into the city. General Sherman told an officer of our corps that the reason he left the Twentieth Corps behind was because he knew he was going to take Atlanta by this last movement, and he wanted the corps which had done the hardest fighting and the hardest work of the campaign to have the honor of entering the city first; I believe this is honest, for there is very little humbug about General Sherman.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 190-1

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Lemuel A. Abbott: Wednesday, April 6, 1864

Cloudy and windy this morning, but it cleared up about noon; fine evening, too, but no moon; have been over to the theatre, but hardly got paid for my trouble except for the novelty of seeing a theatre built of logs. It is as big as a city theatre, is of fine rustic work and a curiosity. It was built by the Engineers and is handsome. Of course in a big army like this there is plenty of fair theatrical talent and some excellent. The band came out this evening and played a few pieces, the first with their new instruments; am at work on Company B clothing rolls; will finish in about two days.

SOURCE: Lemuel Abijah Abbott, Personal Recollections and Civil War Diary, 1864, p. 33