Showing posts with label Burnside. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Burnside. Show all posts

Monday, October 14, 2024

Diary of Corporal John W. Dennett, January 8, 1863

Weather pleasant, but rather cold. The Fifth Army Corps was reviewed by Major-Gen. Burnside. Started out of camp at nine A.M., marched about four miles, and came to the place where the review was held. The corps was drawn up in line, and passed in review; was dismissed, and returned to camp. Capt. Martin started for home in the first train for Aquia Creek the next morning.

SOURCE: John Lord Parker, Henry Wilson's Regiment: History of the Twenty-second Massachusetts Infantry, the Second Company Sharpshooters and the Third Light Battery, in the War of the Rebellion, p. 271

Tuesday, August 20, 2024

Diary of Musician David Lane, April 13, 1863

Lebanon, April 13th, 1863.

We have lost our favorite commander, Brigadier General Poe. He is promoted to captain in the regular service, and delivered his farewell address early yesterday morning. He has won the confidence and esteem of every man in the brigade, and they deeply regret his loss. It was his disobedience of orders that saved the First Brigade from slaughter at Fredericksburg. His disobedience led to his promotion. In appearance he is just the man I would select from among a thousand for a bandit chief.

We had a riffle of excitement yesterday in camp. Early in the morning the Eighteenth and Twenty-second Michigan Regiments were ordered to leave for Murfreesboro, Tennessee. The officers of these regiments, in common with others, have employed negroes as servants. Kentucky is violently opposed to the President's Emancipation Proclamation. Here was a fine opportunity for a Kentucky General to show the "Abolitionists" that his state was not included in that pronunciamento. As the Eighteenth was about to board the cars, General Manson, commander of this post, ordered them to halt and deliver up all negroes in the regiment. Upon inquiry it was found that all, except one, were Kentucky negroes, and were given up. This did not satisfy; he must have the free man also. The Sixteenth Kentucky Infantry and the Twelfth Kentucky Cavalry are doing post duty here. These General Manson ordered to form in line of battle, and again demanded the surrender of the negro. But Michigan was not to be intimidated. Colonel Doolittle resolutely refused, formed his men for battle with loaded guns and fixed bayonets, and defiantly bade the Kentuckian to "come and take him." Not caring to attack with only two to one, General Manson sent for the Seventy-ninth New York to come and help him, but the gallant Colonel of that regiment replied: "I am not fighting Michigan men." In the meantime General Burnside had been telegraphed for orders. He replied: "I have nothing to do with it." Colonel Doolittle then telegraphed the War Department, and is now awaiting orders. The Eighteenth lay with their arms beside them all last night, apprehensive of an attack. They kept the negro.

We have a fine camping ground, nearly as good as at Newport News. The brigade is encamped in the form of a square. There is a spring of water in the center. In our front is the City of Lebanon, a place nearly as large as Jackson, and old enough in appearance to have been built in the middle ages. On our right and left are splendid farms, on which negro slaves are busily engaged plowing and planting. In our rear is a piece of timber from which we supply ourselves with fuel. We have thickly planted the borders of our streets with evergreen trees, which not only gives our camp a picturesque appearance, but affords a comfortable shade these hot, sultry days.

Our stay here depends entirely on the movements of the Rebels. We are here to protect the loyal people of Kentucky from guerillas; also to support Rosencrans should his rear be threatened by way of Cumberland Gap. The Ninth Corps is separated into fragments; the Third Division is in Virginia; the First and Second are in Kentucky, a brigade in a place, but so situated they can be quickly concentrated at a given point. Doubtless it is pleasant, this lying in camp with nothing to do but drill and play ball, which is all the rage just now, but it is not satisfying. It may do for regulars, who have so long a time to serve, but for volunteers who enlisted to do a given amount of work, would like to do that work and go home to their families.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 39-41

Sunday, May 12, 2024

Diary of Corporal John W. Dennett, November 10, 1862

In camp at Warrenton. Gen. McClellan left the army to-day, and Gen. Burnside was his successor. He reviewed the troops before he left, and we fired a salute of thirteen guns. Gen. McClellan was the father of the Army of the Potomac.

SOURCE: John Lord Parker, Henry Wilson's Regiment: History of the Twenty-second Massachusetts Infantry, the Second Company Sharpshooters and the Third Light Battery, in the War of the Rebellion, p. 269

Friday, March 15, 2024

Diary of Musician David Lane, December 28, 1862

Camp near Fredericksburg, Dec. 28th, 1862.

The battle of Fredericksburg has been fought and—lost. We are now engaged in the laudable occupation of making ourselves comfortable; building log huts to protect ourselves from the cold storms of winter. Our brigade the—First—was not engaged at Fredericksburg. We were commanded by Colonel Poe, a graduate of West Point, a man thoroughly versed in the art of war. He saw the utter hopelessness of the struggle, and, when the order came to advance, he flatly refused to sacrifice[e] his men in the unequal contest. Of course, he was put under arrest, and will be court-martialed, but he saved his men.

The eighteen thousand slaughtered husbands and sons who fell at Fredricksburg does not comprise our greatest loss. This whole army, for the time being, is thoroughly demoralized. It has lost all confidence in its leaders—a condition more fatal than defeat.

The leaders of the different corps do not work in unison. Our commander lacks the mental force to weld and bind these discordant, disintegrating elements into one solid, compact, adhesive mass, subject to his will and guided by his judgment; and herein lies the cause of our defeat.

Everything has the appearance of a protracted stay. We cannot advance; the enemy is too strongly fortified; if he were not, we would give him time to do so. And yet it is dangerous to stay. It is all Government can do, with the river open and all available transports, to furnish this great army with supplies. Should the river freeze, or the Rebels gain a position on its banks, we would be starved out in short order.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 23-4

Wednesday, February 21, 2024

Diary of Musician David Lane, September 4, 1862

We have been three days in camp, and have fully recovered from the fatigues of our long journey. Drill is the order of the day, as it is the necessity of the hour. Officers and men have yet to learn the rudiments of military maneuvering. There is not a company officer who can put his men through company drill without making one—or more—ludicrous blunders. Yesterday our First Lieutenant was drilling a squad of men. He was giving all his attention to "time," and did not notice a fence had planted itself directly across our path. Suddenly he shouted: "Who—who—who! Come this way, you fellows in front—don't you see you are running into that fence?"

On Monday morning one of the men had been cleaning his gun, and, wishing to know if it would burn a cap, laid it down for the purpose of getting one. When he returned, instead of picking up his own gun, he took a loaded one that belonged to a guard. As a result of his stupidity, the ball passed through two tents, entered a young man's heel and passed through his foot lengthwise, rendering him a cripple for life. Rumors were in circulation all day Tuesday of Rebel movements. At dusk twenty rounds of ammunition were distributed.

We were then sent to our quarters to await orders. A spirit of unrest pervaded the camp. Men gathered in groups and whispered their conviction of a night attack.

At nine o'clock a picket fired an alarm. The bugle sounded "To arms." Orderlies ran up and down the line of tents shouting. "Fall in! Fall in with your arms; the Rebels are upon us!"

For a moment there was some confusion, but in less than five minutes we were in line, eager to meet the foe. But no enemy appeared. It was a ruse gotten up by the officers as an emergency drill, and, as such, it was a decided success. There were some ludicrous incidents, but, as a rule, the men buckled on their arms with promptness and appeared as cool as on dress parade.

Yesterday morning, as we were forming for company drill, a courier rode into camp with dispatches from headquarters. Five companies from our regiment were ordered to repair at once to Fort Gaines, eight miles distant, on the Virginia side of the Potomac. We started off briskly, but before we had gone a mile the order was countermanded, and we returned to camp.

The news this morning is not encouraging. General Pope has been defeated and driven back upon the fortifications around Washington, and the Rebels are trying to force their way across the Potomac. We are under marching orders. Rumor says we are to join Burnside's forces at Frederic City.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 8-9

Sunday, February 18, 2024

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop, May 4, 1864

Morning at Stevensburg, Va.—Taking a southwest direction we passed northeast of Stony Mountain and came in conjunction with other marching columns and moving trains. Our ears were filled with confusion, noisy jests, rough questionings and "blowing" of different regiments. Marched fast. Inspired by excitement, our boys were not to be beaten; it was a grand show that nobody saw but the performers. Our course was principally southeast until we reached this deserted village, Stevensburgh, at daylight. Here are fields of artillery and cavalry awaiting us. We rest awhile; I lay on the mossy plank steps of what was a tavern. Grass is in the streets. Buildings old style; paint has seceded. It is a pleasant site, overlooking grand country; had been a desirable place in better days. This movement is to throw our forces together to the right of Lee's position south of the Rapidan, cutting the latters' connection with Fredericksburg and to go on to Richmond, if he does not come out to fight us. This will bring our base of supplies south to points accessible to the coast.

On Field, South of Rapidan, Noon—We took a southerly course to the river, halting but little. Beautiful morning, splendid view of the glorious landscape; rich country. Occasionally stately dwellings of the comfortable Virginia style are left on terra firma and inhabited.

Sun came out hot. Those who had scruples about throwing clothing away on the start, felt the necessity. For an hour and a half the road was strewn with coats, blouses, shirts, blankets and other things, so thickly that we could not march in files without treading upon it, which made marching tiresome. Miles of ground was literally covered.

Men were sun-struck and fell as if shot dead; one who fell as we moved along a narrow dugway, rolled down the hill and lodged against a tree. It is a frightful moan they give as they fall, slamming their guns on the ground. The aid they get from comrades in the ranks is slight; we can only cast a pitying look and pass on. I came near falling. Friends applied water from canteens to the back of my head, neck and breast, which proved a relief. Capt. Swan told me to fall out but I felt determined not to leave the ranks; threw away my woolen blanket and got better.

About 11 a. m. our (Fifth) corps reached the Rapidan River at Germania ford and crossed on pontoons. Several cannon were in position commanding the heights beyond. It was a proud sight to see the columns winding up the rocky slope on the south side, as we descended from the north. They crossed a drove of cattle by driving them through; some were drowned. There was once a bridge here; the stone abutments remain.

The Second (Hancock's) corps crossed at Ely's ford several miles east. His advance surprised and captured a Confederate force this morning that had been watching our army. The Sixth (Sedgwick's) corp crossed five miles west of Germania. The positions of these grand divisions of the Army of the Potomac, in these movements, indicate their respective positions in coming battles, namely: Hancock's corp on the left, Warren's in the center, Sedgwick's on the right. The Ninth (Burnside's) corp is a few miles behind, moving in three columns to be used in emergencies. Cavalry divisions are generally in advance and on our flanks contending with the enemy's detached forces, or harassing his rear, miles away.

Hard fighting is expected by officers and men. We feel the final movement on Richmond is on. It is the beginning of the end-a big butt-end! We are to meet the enemy in regions where fighting has been mostly favorable to the Southern army, in its chosen, often fortified positions. Officers assume that our corps will make the first attack, or will be first attacked. The enemy is familiar with the country where battles are likely to occur. During winter suspension of hostilities, he has moved forces about this country to acquaint them with it. Leading officers know points of natural strategy, hence have many advantages. Naturally he will make a desperate attempt to crush us at a time most opportune to him. His position we shall find when revealed by the attack, or by our skirmishers and scouts. Our men understand this; are nerved for the crisis. Our fate rests with officers.

They were strongly fortified here and a half mile back, but forces in charge retired after a few shots. We lay down behind these fortifications two hours, taking refreshments, rest and sleep. A heavy body of troops are assembled in this vicinity.

Near Wilderness, Sunset.—Bugles sounded again; columns of infantry and trains of artillery move out by brigades, the corps having divided into several columns for convenience in forming for battle and to make closer connections with the left and right wings. It appears, by the way we move, the enemy are not disposed to check us today; all is quiet as if there were no such thing as battle. We move cautiously, through heavy wildernesses on old roads-about 4 o'clock p. m. struck the plank road and were soon near portions of the old battle grounds about Chancellorsville.

The column soon broke off by regiments on either side. То our delight, we were told that we would probably stay the night. There is a broad field covered with troops of all arms; heavy supply trains and artillery, no doubt 40,000 armed men. Generals Grant, Meade, Warren and staffs arrived soon after we camped, also several other generals and staffs. General Wadsworth has been riding among the troops of his division and passing a word with us. The old gentleman is as good natured as ever. He wears the regulation cap, rides a light gray horse, his gray hair cut short and side whiskers closely trimmed. The boys all like the old "Abolish." A have been to a creek and bathed, feel pretty well. Headquarters bands are playing beautifully. The scene is sublime; the red sun hangs just over the woods, the trees are brilliantly green and filled with happy birds. Men by thousands are boiling coffee and frying pork and hard tack.

There is an old mill near, long silent for Secessia's sake, now receiving attention from the boys; they are not likely to slight it until they run it-into the ground. Some are running through it seeing what can be picked up; others are knocking and pulling pine boards from its sides. It is not a stranger to soldiers, they have been here before, both Union and Rebs; Stonewall himself, perhaps; like enough "Fighting Joe." It was about here the former made his last dash. Two of us lug off a wide door for a bed. Of course the boys talk about where we are going; some think they know exactly; it is to Mine Run again, or it is straight to Richmond. We have marched thirty miles. Fog appears as the sun sinks. We lie down early; had no sleep last night; pitch no tents. Probabilities are for an early stir in the morning. We have plumb six days' rations, expect to need them.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 22-5

Saturday, September 30, 2023

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Saturday, June 22, 1861

Arrival at the National Capital. By daylight the cupola of the Capitol greeted our eyes, a reviving sight after three sleepless nights. Col. Ambrose E. Burnside and Capt. Chas. H. Tompkins had a breakfast prepared for us, consisting of roast beef, soft bread and coffee. After unloading battery, we marched towards Camp Sprague, and established our quarters on the left of those of the First R. I. infantry regiment and battery. Our camp was named "Camp Clark," in honor of the celebrated Bishop Clark, of Rhode Island, the model of a Christian minister and true patriot.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, p. 7-8

Saturday, February 18, 2023

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, February 15, 1863

February 15, 1863.        
(Sunday.)

This is a very unpleasant day, but I am comfortable in my tent by the fire. The snow and cold do not make it as disagreeable for us as one would naturally suppose, because we have become accustomed to it. The men seem to enjoy the snow very much. About two weeks ago it was more than one foot deep, and some of the regiments met in regular battle order and had snow fights with each other, and they would yell at a great rate. The bitter cold of winter does not compare in severity with the hard marching of a summer campaign, and I should prefer six winters in camp to one summer on the march.

I saw the Medical Director yesterday at Hamilton's Crossing. He was very pleasant, and assigned me to the Thirteenth South Carolina Regiment without any hesitation. In going to General Lee's headquarters I could see the Yankee camps distinctly, on the other side of the river. I could even see their forces drilling. Their camps are very extensive indeed, and the vast numbers of white tents which stretch across the plains give it the appearance of a great city. This weather puts a stop to Burnside's advance, but I have no fear of defeat when he does advance.

I went to the depot at Guinea's Station and got the box from home. I found it filled with everything which is good to eat, and I would not care to fare any better than at present. I had Edwin, Jim Allen and Ben Strother to take dinner with me the next day. They praised the dinner very much and ate only as soldiers can. I must have all three of them to come again in a day or two.

Two years ago from last Friday you and I were married, and how changed is the scene since then! Little did we think that devastation and distress would so soon spread over the entire land. War seems to be a natural occurrence. It has been our misfortune to experience it, and there is nothing we can do but endure it philosophically and try to become resigned to it.

When you write tell me all the little particulars about George. I dreamed last night of being at home, but thought he would have nothing to do with me and treated me like an entire stranger

SOURCE: Dr. Spenser G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 42-4

Wednesday, February 23, 2022

Major-General Ulysses S. Grant to Major-General Henry W. Halleck, July 4, 1863—10:30 a.m.

NEAR VICKSBURG, MISS.,        
July 4, 1863—10.30 a.m.
Maj. Gen. H. W. HALLECK,
        General-in-Chief:

The enemy surrendered this morning. The only terms allowed is their parole as prisoners of war. This I regarded as of great advantage to us at this juncture. It saves probably several days in the captured town; leaves troops and transports ready for immediate service. General Sherman, with a large force, will face immediately on Johnston and drive him from the State. I will send troops to the relief of General Banks, and return the Ninth Corps to General Burnside.

U.S. GRANT,        
Major-general.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 24, Part 1 (Serial No. 36), p. 44

Sunday, January 23, 2022

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: May 13, 1863

To-day the regiment is ordered to prepare to move from Corinth with camp and garrison equipage. In the afternoon Companies E, B and C, proceed by rail to Henderson, Tennessee, a station on the Mobile and Ohio railroad. In the evening the remaining companies load their camp and garrison equipage on the cars, ready to start in the morning for Bethel, Tennesssee, on the same road, four miles above Henderson towards Corinth. The news comes to-night that Hooker has re-crossed the Rappahannock; that Stoneman has been driven back, and that yet the rebel government holds sway in Richmond. So much for rumor. Hooker is dropped now and the acclamations of the Seventh are confined to “Burnside and No. 38," and for the arrest of Vallandigham.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 169-70

Saturday, January 1, 2022

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Tuesday, May 5, 1863

To-day northern papers are received containing Burnside's General order No. 38, for the benefit of Ohio's devilish democracy. We deem it a good cure for treason and traitors, and we all hope that it will be enforced to the letter, and that the leading light of modern democracy, C. L. Vallandigham, will become a victim to its force. All hail, Burnside! as the honest general who dares to do right—who dares to prosecute the war with an earnest determination—who dares to punish traitors in the north! They may tell us the war is a failure—that the great Union is declining—that the gallant dead have died in vain—that they have closed their eyes in death, dishonored men; they may say, as has been said by Miller, in the Illinois Legislative chamber, that the time will come when the surviving Union soldier will be ashamed to hold up his head and say he took a part in the war for the Union, but we catch the spirit of prophecy and say that the time will come when modern democracy as a party will be branded as a gigantic liar-that the time will come when the children of the soldiers and sailors who battled on land and sea for the republican idea, will, in the language of Grace Greenwood, date their rights to nobility back to grander battlefields than Agincourt or Bannockburn. Many a coat of arms in the future will have one sleeve hanging empty. We may picture to ourselves a group of noble young lads, some ten years hence, thus proudly accounting for their orphanage—an orphanage which the country should see to it should not become destitue. Says one, my father fell fighting with Wallace in the Wilderness of Shiloh, says another, my father fought with Hooker, when his guns flashed flame in midnight darkness over Lookout Mountain; another, my father suffered martyrdom in Libby Prison; and another, my father was rocked to sleep beneath the waves in the iron cradle of the monitor. Then there will be hapless lads who will steal away and in the bitterness of soul will say, alas, for me! I have no such gloryings; my father was a rebel who fought against the flag of the Union; and there will be another class still more unfortunate, who will utter the pitying wail, oh! my God, help me! my father was a cowardly northern copperhead, who denounced the defenders of the Union as hirelings and vandals. Yes, and the time will come when the record of modern democracy in these years of war will be sought to be buried and consigned to the "dead past,” when this treasonable faction will pander to those men who saved the Union when they sought its life. They will feign to drop tears over the graves of those they murdered, and utter hypocritical words of sympathy to the widows and orphans whom they insulted when the Republic was passing through the long night of war. Soldiers of the Union, mark the prophecy.

The following extract from a communication written by a soldier of the Seventh, may not be inappropriate to these pages:

To-day we were shown a letter from one of the lights of modern democracy in Logan County, urging a soldier to desert the hireling abolition army, and not disgrace his friends any longer, telling him that the war was a failure, and for him to return to the house of his friends. The reply was made, “I am a man, and no consideration offered by modern democracy can tempt me to desert the banner of freedom. What! disgrace my friends! I to-day disown all who would, like you, urge me to barter away my manhood. You tell me the war is a failure; you evidently base your judgment upon its prolongation. This does not discourage me; I remember that it took eight years to establish the first independence, but what would twenty years be in permanently establishing a government that may in time revolutionize the civilized world? When you and your traitor friends, conscience stricken and seared with crime and sin, shall, as an apt illustration of latter-day so-called democracy, go down to the grave, over your head should be written, 'Here sleeps a modern democrat; and may the winds of heaven never kiss his solitary abode, nor the worms feed upon that flesh that will in all coming time be the scorn and derision of mankind; may he not be permitted to come forth in the resurrection morning, but may he sleep on, unmourned and forgotten forever.' In [conclusion], I would urge loyal men everywhere not to listen to the clamor for peace and compromise, for that means a withdrawal of the Union armies and to give up the struggle and acknowledge the independence of the south. From the commencement of the war up to the present time, we, the soldiers of Illinois, have helped to fight the great battles for the Union—we have seen our comrades bleed and die-we have trod in their heart's blood-have passed through many sleepless nights, watching and waiting, but the war still lingers on, the south with its wild legions still struggles for dominion, and yet while shouts of victory ascend from crimson battle-fields, designing men would have us compromise, would have us concede to the murderers and assassins. Shall we do it? The loyal people say no; a voice from every battle field, and from the waters where moved the men of war, cries no. But may a morning with a conquered peace soon dawn, when we can behold our flag floating over every sea, the pride of a victorious people and the envy of the world.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 159-65

Friday, December 31, 2021

Major-General Ambrose Burnside: General Orders, No. 38, April 13, 1863

GENERAL ORDERS, No. 38.
HDQRS. DEPARTMENT OF THE OHIO,        
Cincinnati, Ohio, April 13, 1863.

The commanding general publishes, for the information of all concerned, that hereafter all persons found within our lines who commit acts for the benefit of the enemies of our country will be tried as spies or traitors, and, if convicted, will suffer death. This order includes the following class of persons: Carriers of secret mails; writers of letters sent by secret mails; secret recruiting officers within the lines; persons who have entered into an agreement to pass our lines for the purpose of joining the enemy; persons found concealed within our lines belonging to the service of the enemy, and, in fact, all persons found improperly within our lines who could give private information to the enemy, and all persons within our lines who harbor, protect, conceal, feed, clothe, or in any way aid the enemies of our country. The habit of declaring sympathy for the enemy will not be allowed in this department. Persons committing such offenses will be at once arrested, with a view to being tried as above stated, or sent beyond our lines into the lines of their friends.

It must be distinctly understood that treason, expressed or implied, will not be tolerated in this department.

All officers and soldiers are strictly charged with the execution of this order.

By command of Major-General Burnside:

LEWIS RICHMOND,        
Assistant Adjutant-General

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 23, Part 2 (Serial No. 35), p. 237

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Sunday, May 10, 1863

Since our return from the Tuscumbia Valley nothing' of interest has occurred until to day; flaming bulletins are now flying everywhere exciting loud huzzas from the soldiers in and around Corinth. “Richmond fallen,” “Stoneman occupying the city,” “the stars and stripes floating over the ramparts," “Valandigham arrested, &c.” Everything seems perfectly wild to night, and loud acclamations rend the air for Hooker. Bonfires are burning in every direction. The excitement beggars discription. Cheers are heard everywhere for Hooker, Burnside and No. 38; for the arrest of Ohio's arch traitor, the seared and corrupt hearted, sycophant, C. L. Vallandigham. May he be banished and be compelled to go creeping and whining through the back grounds of an English aristocracy, there to be execrated and condemned by all liberty loving people, for the ignoble part he played upon the American stage; and when peace shall have returned to a stricken people, should this traitor leader on the northern line return among America's loyal people, may the widow and the orphan child say, there goes the traitor Vallandigham, who, when our loved and lost were being submerged by war's crimson wave, was standing upon the American Congress floor, saying that he would sooner see them die and the flag go down than vote one dollar for the prosecution of the war. Sad, sad record for one of the republic's sons!

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 167-8

Tuesday, December 28, 2021

Major-General Ulysses S. Grant to Major-General Henry W. Halleck, June 14, 1863

BEHIND VICKSBURG, MISS., June 11, 1863,        
VIA MEMPHIS, TENN., June 14.
Maj. Gen. H. W. HALLECK, General-in-Chief:

I have reliable information from the entire interior of the South. Johnston has been re-enforced by 3,000 troops from Mobile and other parts of Georgia; by [J.P.] McCown's and Breckinridge's divisions (9,000 men), and 4,000 of   Forrest's cavalry, from Bragg's army; 9,000 men from Charleston, and 2,200 from Port Hudson. Orders were sent the very day General Banks invested Port Hudson, to evacuate it. Garrison there now 8,000. Lee's army has not been reduced; Bragg's force now 46,000 infantry and artillery and 15,000 cavalry. Everything not required for daily use has been removed to Atlanta, Ga. His army can fall back to Bristol or Chattanooga at a moment's notice, which places, it is thought, he can hold, and spare 25,000 troops. Mobile and Savannah are now almost entirely without garrisons, further than men to manage large guns. No troops are left in the interior to send to any place. All further re-enforcements will have to come from one of the great armies. There are about 32,000 men west of the Mississippi, exclusive of the troops in Texas. Orders were sent them one week ago by Johnston. The purport of the order not known. Herron has arrived here, and troops from Burnside looked for to-morrow.

U.S. GRANT,        
Major-General.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 24, Part 1 (Serial No. 36), p. 42

Monday, June 21, 2021

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: April 27, 1864

Another bright and beautiful day; and vegetation is springing with great rapidity. But nearly all my potatoes, corn, egg-plants, and tomatoes seem to have been killed by the frosts of March. I am replanting corn, lima beans, etc. The other vegetables are growing well. One of my fig-bushes was killed—that is, nearly all the branches. The roots live.

It is rumored that the armies on the Rapidan were drawn up in line.

The enemy have again evacuated Suffolk.

Gen. Beauregard is at Weldon. Perhaps Burnside may hurl his blows against North Carolina.

Food is still advancing in price; and unless relief comes from some quarter soon, this city will be in a deplorable condition. A good many fish, however, are coming in, and shad have fallen in price to $12 per pair.

The government ordered the toll of meal here (which the miller, Crenshaw, sold to the people) to be taken for the army; but Col. Northrop, Commissary-General, opposes this; and it is to be hoped, as usual, he may have his way, in spite of even the President. These papers pass through the hands of the Secretary of War.

The French ships have gone down the river, without taking much tobacco; said to have been ordered away by the United States Government.

Col. W. M. Browne (the President's English A.D.C.), it is said, goes to Georgia as commandant of conscripts for that State. It is probable he offended some one of the President's family, domestic or military. The people had long been offended by his presence and arrogance.

The Enquirer, to-day, has a communication assaulting Messrs. Toombs and Stephens, and impeaching their loyalty. The writer denounced the Vice-President severely for his opposition to the suspension of the writ of habeas corpus. During the day the article was sent to Mr. Secretary Seddon, with the compliments of Mr. Parker—the author, I suppose.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2p. 193-4

Sunday, June 20, 2021

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: April 30, 1864

Federal papers now admit that Gen. Banks has been disastrously beaten in Louisiana. They also admit their calamity at Plymouth, N. C. Thus in Louisiana, Florida, West Tennessee, and North Carolina the enemy have sustained severe defeats: their losses amounting to some 20,000 men, 100 guns, half a dozen war steamers, etc. etc.

Gen. Burnside has left Annapolis and gone to Grant—whatever the plan was originally; and the work of concentration goes on for a decisive clash of arms in Virginia.

And troops are coming hither from all quarters, like streamlets flowing into the ocean. Our men are confident, and eager for the fray.

The railroad companies say they can transport 10,000 bushels corn, daily, into Virginia. That will subsist 200,000 men and 25,000 horses. And in June the Piedmont connection will be completed.

The great battle may not occur for weeks yet. It will probably end the war.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2p. 195-6

Monday, May 10, 2021

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: April 11, 1864

Rained all night, but clear most of the day.

There are rumors of Burnside landing troops on the Peninsula; also of preparations for movements on the Rappahannock—by which side is uncertain. It is said troops are coming from Mississippi, Lieut.-Gen. (Bishop) Polk's command.

The FAMINE is still advancing, and his gaunt proportions loom up daily, as he approaches with gigantic strides. The rich speculators, however, and the officers of influence stationed here, who have secured the favor of the Express Company, get enough to eat. Potatoes sell at $1 per quart; chickens, $35 per pair; turnip greens, $4 per peck! An ounce of meat, daily, is the allowance to each member of my family, the cat and parrot included. The pigeons of my neighbor have disappeared. Every day we have accounts of robberies, the preceding night, of cows, pigs, bacon, flour—and even the setting hens are taken from their nests!

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2p. 185

Thursday, February 18, 2021

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

WE LEAVE PLYMOUTH.

On the 8th of December the regiment embarked on the schooner Skirmisher for Newbern, arriving there on the evening of the 10th. We were right glad to once more get back to camp, where we could clean ourselves up and get a change of clothing, but were much more glad to find mail and express matter from home. We were not, however, overjoyed to find an order awaiting us to be ready early in the morning to start on a long and rapid march, but having become accustomed to adapting ourselves to circumstances, the order was soon forgotten and we were absorbed in our letters and papers, after which the contents of the boxes were attended to. There was a generous quantity of goodies from the loved ones at home, some of which are of a perishable nature; what shall we do with them? We go off in the morning, and the Lord knows when we shall come back if we ever do. There are no taps tonight, and the candles burn long and well, so we sit down and gorge ourselves until we can eat no more, putting aside what we think will keep until we get back, and crowding as much as we can that remains into our haversacks. We next attend to a change of clothing, and by morning are ready for a start. I wear my best clothes, thinking if I should happen to become a guest at the Hotel de Libby, I should like to appear respectable.

GOLDSBORO EXPEDITION.

During our stay at Plymouth, large reinforcements of troops arrived at Newbern. These troops consisted of Gen. Wessell's brigade of six regiments of New York and Pennsylvania troops, and the 8th, 43d, 45th, 46th and 51st Massachusetts regiments of nine months' troops. They were to join in an expedition under Gen. Foster, against Goldsboro and the Wilmington and Weldon railroad; the object being to destroy that road, thus preventing reinforcements reaching Gen. Lee at Fredericksburg, where Gen. Burnside was about making an assault. This part of the plan was successfully carried out, but too late to be of any use to Burnside, as he made his attack three days before we reached and destroyed the road. Although Gen. Foster started the moment his troops arrived, it was about a week too late.

The division consisted of four brigades, the 1st under command of Brig. Gen. Wessell; the 2d, Col. Amory; 3d, Col. Stevenson; 4th, Col. Lee; with the 3d New York cavalry and eleven batteries of artillery, and the wagon and ambulance train. The whole made a force of about 20,000 men, and when the procession was in line of march it covered a distance of about seven miles. Col. Heckman, with his 9th New Jersey regiment, was a kind of independent corps, he taking the contract to lead the advance and clear the way. The expedition started on the morning of Dec. 11, and about noon Col. Lee's brigade fell in on the left, the 25th being in this brigade and 18th regiment in the column. We marched this day about 12 miles, getting into camp late in the evening. This bivouac was on an extensive plain, and was covered with troops, horses, mules and wagons, and in the dim moonlight, its thousand camp fires made a grand illumination. It was not long after supper before the men were all rolled up in their blankets asleep, and on that cold December night, as I looked over that field and saw by the glare of its many camp fires, those thousands of brave, self-sacrificing men lie stretched upon the ground, I could but think that the bright spirits of the immortal band of American patriots hovered over that camp and looked down approvingly upon our efforts to sustain that government and these institutions for which they had sacrificed and suffered so much to establish.

On the morning of the 12th the march was resumed, but was necessarily slow as the roads were badly obstructed. In one swamp, for a distance of three miles, the trees were thickly felled across the road, making a forenoon's job for Capt. Wilson and his pioneer corps to clear away. They had no sooner finished this job when another presented itself in building a bridge across a creek, which took nearly all the afternoon. The 25th crossed this bridge about dark, and a little farther on saw lights ahead. We now thought we were nearing camp and we began to cheer up, thinking our day's work nearly over, but on coming to the camp fires, we found only the 51st Massachusetts, Cul. Sprague, and a battery left here at the junction of the main road leading to Kinston, with orders to hold it until noon the next day, while the column moved up the old or back road towards Southwest creek. Finding this was not our hotel we took fresh courage and pushed on. A few miles farther brought us into camp.

It was a cold night, and being nearly the last in we found the rails and wood had all been appropriated; we must either go without fires or go half a mile for fuel. We went for it, and after a hard scramble succeeded in getting a partial supply, enough however, with prudence, to go through the night and make our morning's coffee. Our march this day was only about ten miles.

Next morning we took an early start. A mile or two up the road, another road branched to the right, leading to Kinston. Here the 16th Massachusetts, Col. Shurtliff, with a battery were left to hold it. About the middle of the forenoon firing was heard in the advance; Col. Heckman had got a job. He found the enemy in considerable force at Southwest creek, and with his own and one or two other regiments succeeded in driving them out, capturing one gun. This Southwest creek, like all other battle grounds the enemy selects, is a swamp about half a mile wide, with a small creek running through it. We halted early in the afternoon, to let the teams, which were stuck all along the road, come up:

We were now about five miles from Kinston. The infantry bivouacked on the left side of the road, on which was a growth of small pines, making a nice, clean camp-ground. The batteries and teams, as fast as they came up, were parked in the open field on the right. The cavalry, which we had not seen for two days, were playing a lone hand, and were scouting around over the country, making tents and bothering the enemy. Under the pines we make soft beds, and at dark kindle the fires, make coffee, eat our suppers and go to bed, expecting in the morning our further progress up the country will be vigorously disputed.

All was quiet during the night, and early in the morning of Sunday, the 14th, the camp was astir. The general ordered that in order to lighten the teams, every man take three days' rations and 60 rounds of extra ammunition. While this was being dealt out, some one suggested that the teams could be still further lightened by issuing a ration of whiskey. Acting on that suggestion, the liquor was ordered, and there was far less complaint about taking it than there was in taking the extra ammunition. Breakfast over, the chaplain offered prayer, after which a hymn was sung; we then filed into the road and commenced the march. The advance was well up the road, and we began to hear firing ahead. As we drew nearer it became more distinct and there was more of it. Wessell's and Amory's brigades were hotly engaged, and the roar of artillery gave notice that the batteries were not silent spectators.

We hurried on and soon met the stretcher corps bringing out the dead and wounded men. This to me was a sickening sight, to see men with pallid faces, writhing with pain and blood dripping from the stretchers. I know not how it is with others, but there is nothing that so completely takes the pith out of me when going into action as this. I want to get engaged before seeing the dead or wounded; after that I do not mind so much about it.

The enemy, under command of Gen. Evans, was in strong force and posted on the south side of the river near Kinston, commanding the road that led through a thick, wet swamp some half a mile wide. This swamp prevented our batteries from working with much accuracy, consequently the fight became an infantry one. Wessell's and Amory's brigades pushed into the swamp and engaged them in front, while the other regiments as they came up were posted on the right, to prevent a flank movement, or to make one ourselves if necessary. The 25th, with Morrison's battery, were drawn up in line of battle on an open field near the river, to the left of the swamp. As the battle was confined to the swamp in front, we were not under fire at all. The battle lasted about three hours, when our troops got through the swamp and charged on them. The 9th New Jersey led the charge, followed by Wessell's and Stevenson's brigades. They charged them across the river and through the town, capturing eleven pieces of artillery and 300 prisoners. After which they shelled them, driving them up the country, out of sight and hearing. In this battle the enemy numbered about 8000, with several batteries of artillery. We had no means of knowing their loss, but it must have been considerable; they got off most of their wounded and probably some of their dead.

When Lee's brigade got on the battle-ground, it was halted, and burying parties were detailed to bury the enemy's dead which here covered the ground. This ground was hard and considerably higher than the swamp; in the midst of a pretty grove of trees stood an old church. The boys did not take very kindly to this burying business, as they were in a hurry to get into town and secure their share of the spoils, but the job hard to be done, and they went about it with a will. They dug trenches a little more than two feet deep, and in these the dead were placed, with the capes of their overcoats wound around their heads; over those not having overcoats, pine boughs were thrown and all were covered over with earth. Our loss in this battle was about 200, some 50 of whom were killed, the t5th Massachusetts sharing largely in the loss. About dark we marched into a field a short distance south of the town, where we were to bivouac. Now commenced the destruction of fences and old buildings for fires, and after supper parties went up town to look over the prize, and late in the evening began to return bringing in their plunder. One party had been very successful; they came in hauling an express wagon loaded with' tobacco, cigars, apple-jack, scuppernong wine, pigs, etc. Of course a dividend was struck, and all that wanted, had a share in the tobacco and cigars, with a drink or two of the wine and apple-jack. This was a pretty good Sunday's job.

Next morning, the 15th, the division was again on the move, destroying the road and railroad bridges over the Neuse river as left. We marched up the river road about 18 miles, getting into camp late in the evening, having met with no obstacles during the day. Here again was a scramble for rails and wood for fires; all the rails near by were gone, and we had to tote ours about a quarter of a mile. The fires kindled, making coffee was in order; after a twenty mile tramp and toting rails for fires, as they stood around them, roasting one side and freezing the other, the boys are not feeling very viable. If there is any one thing more than another that will draw the cuss-words out of them, it is when a dozen cups of coffee are sitting along a burning rail boiling, and some careless fellow comes along, hits the end of the rail, dumping it all over. It is not the loss of the coffee they care so much about, but it is going perhaps half a mile for water to make more. It is of no sort of use to send a darky for it in the night, as he would not find his way back before morning.

On the morning of the 16th it was reported the enemy were in force across the river at a place called Whitehall, about three or four miles from where we were, and where they were building a steam ram. Of course that must be attended to, and when we left our bivouac, the ball had opened and heavy firing was heard ahead. Lee's brigade hurried on and an hour's march brought us to the scene of conflict. A road turned to the right, leading down to the river, where our batteries were at work. The 25th was ordered down this road, but when about half way down, and only a short distance in rear of the batteries, were ordered to halt and wait further orders. An artillery duel was being fought, our batteries on the south side of the river and the enemy's on the north, with the bridge up that here crossed the river. We hail ten batteries engaged, and the enemy had what we had not captured at Kinston. The roar of artillery, screaming shot and bursting shell was fearful. The enemy had sharpshooters along the river bank, who were rather troublesome to our artillerists, and to meet them men were called for from our regiments; Major Pickett was called on for 100. He asked for volunteers and more than half the regiment stepped forward for the service. I didn't volunteer; I never do; I rather pride myself on not committing a great amount of foolishness in this business. The 100 were soon off for the river, where they took available positions and did good service. In this engagement they had one killed and three wounded. After nearly three hours the fire began to slacken and the enemy drew off. The steam ram on the river, which was said to be quite a formidable craft, was then blown up and destroyed. It will be rather discouraging to attempt the building of any more rams at this navy-yard. The army then moved up the road, getting into camp, about night, and some seven or eight miles from Goldsboro. Early in the morning of the 17th, Lee's brigade took the advance, and after a march of five or six miles, the scouts reported the enemy in the woods near the railroad and bridge which crosses the river about two miles below Goldsboro. We were now in their immediate neighborhood. The column was halted, a regiment sent out as skirmishers and a battery advanced and took position on a knoll of ground, a little to the left and front of the column, and commenced shelling the woods. This had the effect of stirring them up, so we knew where they were. The infantry and batteries were ordered forward, and marched into position in front of the enemy, covering the railroad and bridge. After some skirmishing, at about 10 a. m., the battle commenced and continued with short intermissions until the middle of the afternoon, at which time we had silenced the enemy's guns and driven them from the field. We burned the railroad bridge, and with the help of the cavalry tore up and burned ten or twelve miles of track and tressel work of the Wilmington and Weldon railroad. Gen. Foster then said the object had been accomplisherl, and ordereil a retreat, Lee's brigade being ordered to cover it. It was near sunset when we left the field, Morrison's New York and Belger's Rhode Island batteries alone remaining on a knoll of ground which they had occupied during the battle, waiting for us to get away, when they would follow. After leaving the field, we crossed the bed of a small creek about 20 feet wide, with scarcely any water, but with steep banks, except at the ford, where they slopeit down to admit crossing.

Crossing this creek, we halted at a farm house a little way off to load our dead and wounded men into ambulances. While doing it a battery officer dashed up exclaiming, “For God's sake, send us an old regiment! The enemy are charging our batteries! Quick! hurry up!” The 27th and 25th Massachusetts were on the left or rear of the column, and immediately faced about and started on the double quick for the batteries. In the meantime, while our troops were leaving the field, the enemy had been reinforced, and, seeing the batteries alone, and perhaps thinking they might be out of ammunition, thought it would be a nice little trick to capture them. In going to the relief of the batteries we had to run a gauntlet of shot and shell from a six-pounder battery out in the woods, a little to the left and front of our batteries, who were supporting their charging brigade. We went to Belger's support, and the 27th to Morrisson's. In the meantime the batteries had opened fire on the charging columns but without checking them. When we came up they were coming across the railroad; but another discharge from the guns, and seeing their support, the enemy thought they had taken too much of a job, and facing about they put for the woods.

That little battery out in the woods was wonderfully active, shying their shot and shell thick and fast. Fortunately their guns had a high elevation, and the shot went several feet above our heads. They soon, corrected that, however, and the shot began to come lower. Capt. Belger ordered us to lie down, I am always quick to hear that order, and was the first man down. They had now got their range well down, the shot just skimming over us, one shell had burst in front of us, killing one man and wounding two others. They had a splendid range on me as I lay in the rear of my company. About once a minute a shot would come directly over me, striking the ground only a few feet in the and what made it more provoking, they kept getting them lower, until I had flatted out as thin as a sheet of tissue paper. I could stand this no longer, and told the boys in front of me that those shot were coming dangerously close, and they had better make a break by crowding a little to the right and left. I pushed along about ten feet to the left and would liked to have pushed about ten miles to the rear. That movement was barely executed when a shot ploughed a furrow through the space they had made. But that was their last shot, for after the charging column had turned, the guns were turned on that battery, and annihilated it at the first discharge, or at least, I supposed that was the case, as we heard nothing more from it. It was now after sunset and peace once more reigned in Warsaw.

We waited awhile to see if they wanted anything more of us, and finding they did not, we again drew off the field. On coming to the little creek, which we had crossed dry shod an hour before, we now found a roaring torrent running bankfull, with barrels, rails and pieces of timber borne on the surface of its swift current. We had got to go through' it, and the boys, holding their rifles, cartridge boxes and blankets above their heads, waded in. The water was waist deep, and when my company went in I waited on the bank, thinking I would step into the rear as they passed by, but I made a wrong calculation of the bank. When I stepped in, I went in all over, and in trying to recover myself, I let go my cartridge box, blanket and Spitfire, but caught the last between my knees, and commenced ducking to get it. The major was standing on the bank, cautioning the boys to keep their powder dry. When he happened to observe me going through my aquatic performances he yelled vociferously: "What in hell are you doing there? Why don't you keep your powder up out of the water?” I paid no attention to him, but kept reaching for Spitfire, and every time I reached for it, the current would nearly take me off my feet. After I had succeeded in fishing it out, I turned my attention to the major, and answered his little conundrum by asking him what in hell powder was good for without Spitfire? The major laughed and jumping on a gun carriage was ferried across. I was a little the worst off of the lot for I was thoroughly soaked, as were also all my belongings.

The night was freezing cold and in our wet clothes we felt it very sensibly.

A mile march brought us to the woods, which were some four or five miles through, and on the other side was our last night's bivouac. The advance troops had set the woods on fire and when we went through, it was a roaring mass of flame.

This served us a good turn, as it lighted up the road and kept us warm.

We reached our bivouac late in the evening, wet, cold, tired and hungry, but our day's work was not yet done. If we wanted fires and hot coffee, we must go half a mile for rails and tote them in on our shoulders. We brought in a good supply and soon had our coffee boiling. Our wagons were bare of meat and whiskey, and our supper consisted of coffee and hardtack.

Through the long, weary night, wet, cold and hungry, we stood shivering over the fires. Gladly we hailed the first grey streaks of dawn and took fresh courage, knowing we should soon be on the road for home. At sunrise the whole army was in motion, on the road for Newbern, where we arrived a little after noon on Sunday, the 21st, nearly dying from hunger and exhaustion.

When we started on this expedition it was thought the wagons contained an ample supply of rations, but our march country was so imported by blocked roads and so vigorously contested that it was prolonged beyond what was anticipated; besides it was an awful poor section of country for pigs, chickens and apple-jack. On this little excursion, Gen. Foster's army has been out ten days, marching 150 miles, cutting out several miles of blockade roads, building one bridge, doing considerable skirmishing, whipping the enemy three times on their own ground, besides other mischief, such as burning the railroad bridge at Goldsboro, burning a train of cars and smashing up an engine at Mount Olive station, some ten miles down the road from the battle ground, and also tearing up the track between the two points. This last deviltry the 3d New York cavalry is accountable for. There was also burned a quantity of cotton, several houses, barns and many thousands of dollars' worth of fencing and timber. A very clever little job for one trip, but the results would have been greater had it been done two weeks sooner; it would then have greatly hindered the reinforcing of Gen. Lee at Fredericksburg. However, there can no blame be laid to Gen. Foster, as he started on the execution of his orders as soon as the troops arrived.

MAJOR PICKETT.

Our little major since the two last tramps has become very popular in his regiment, and I expect when the eagles light on his shoulders we shall feel pretty proud of him. He is a staving good fellow, and in a fight is always on the lead, inspiring the men with cowage by his coolness and daring. On the road he is equally good, letting the boys have it pretty much their own way, never troubling himself about how they came by their chickens and apple-jack, and is often seen trudging along on foot, letting some sick or footsore soldier ride his giraffe.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 77-84

Wednesday, October 7, 2020

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: May 1, 1862

FORT MACON. 

Martial law not being a very favorable institution for pleasure parties, I presume the usual May day festival is dispensed with here as I have not seen any parties out or demonstrations of any kind going on. I should think a May party here might be very successful as the woods abound with wild flowers in great variety and beauty. 

Fort Macon surrendered to Gen. Burnside last Friday evening, after a bombardment of eleven hours. The general succeeded in getting his siege guns in battery behind some sand ridges about half a mile in rear of the fort, unobserved by the garrison, and the first notice they had of his presence was a shot from one of the guns. After holding out for eleven hours and seeing they could make no defense and that there was no chance for escape, they hauled down their colors. By this surrender, 65 guns and 450 prisoners, with stores and ammunition, have fallen into our hands. Their loss was eight killed and twenty wounded. Our loss was one killed and five wounded. 

A good story is told in connection with the surrender of this fort to the Confederates. After the war broke out and they were seizing the forts, a strong force of Confederates, with a great flourish of trumpets, presented themselves one morning at the sallyport of the fort, demanding its immediate and unconditional surrender. Now it happened that the only occupants of the fort were an old ordnance sergeant and his wife who had been in charge of the property for many years. The old sergeant came to the gate, and looking over the crowd, said to the officer in command that under the circumstances he thought the garrison might as well surrender, but he would like the privilege of taking the old flag and marching out with the honors of war. To this the officer assented and the old sergeant hauled down the flag and winding it around him, he and his wife marched out, greatly to the surprise of the officer, who found that they two comprised the whole garrison. 

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 55

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: May 11, 1862

MR. BOGEY. 

This place is what is called a turpentine plantation, where they get the pitch from which turpentine is distilled. The owner, Mr. Bogey, a harmless, inoffensive old gentleman, claims to be a Union man, and I reckon he is, because he does not run away or seem to be afraid of us. He tells me he owns 2000 acres of land, nearly all turpentine forest, and has 10,000 trees running pitch. He said the war had ruined him and thinks it has the whole south. He said the rebels had taken all but one of his horses and about everything else he had that they wanted. His niggers had all left him and gone down town. He expected that when we came, but cared very little about it, as he had only a few and they were about as much trouble and expense to him as they were worth. He said he was getting old, his business was all broke up and by the time the war was over and things settled he would be too old for anything. I asked him if all those pigs running about in the woods were his. He reckoned they were. I inquired if he knew how many he had. He couldn’t tell exactly, but reckoned there was right smart. The thought occurred to me that if that was as near as he could tell, if a few of them were gobbled they would never be missed, provided the squeal could be shut off quick enough. I learn that Gen. Burnside has given Mr. Bogey a protection, whatever that is. That perhaps may do well enough for him, but I should not want to warrant it a sure thing for all these pigs and sheep running about here. 

CAMP BULLOCK. 

Our camp is named Camp Bullock, in honor of Alex. H. Bullock of Worcester, Mass. Today the boys are busy writing letters home, and it troubles them to tell where to date their letters from. They invent all sorts of names; some of them with a romantic turn of mind, date from Camp Rural, Woodlawn, Forestdale, Riverdale, etc., but Mason, with a more practical turn of mind, dates his from Hell Centre. The boys who were out in the woods last night say it is great fun, although they were not disturbed; there is just enough excitement and mosquitoes to keep them from getting drowsy. 

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 56-7