Diary of Private Richard R. Hancock: Saturday, January 18, 1862

It was said that another picket skirmish on the north side of the river resulted in the killing of two of our men and one of the enemy.

It rained nearly all day.

General Buell ordered General Thomas, on December 29th, to move from Lebanon by the way of Columbia upon Zollicoffer's left flank, while General Schoepf was to move upon his front from Somerset. On the 30th Thomas replied thus:

Have made arrangements to move as light as possible, and hope to get started to-morrow, although with raw troops and raw mules I fear there will be some difficulty.¹

The advance of Thomas's division arrived yesterday at Logan's Cross Roads, about ten miles north of Crittenden's intrenched position (Beech Grove), and within eight miles of Somerset, where he halted for the rear to close up and to communicate with Schoepf.

Late that afternoon our commander wrote the following dispatch to A. S, Johnston, Bowling Green, Kentucky:

HEADQUARTERS, BEECH GROVE KENTUCKY,        

January 18, 1862.

 

SIR: I am threatened by a superior force of the enemy in front, and finding it impossible to cross the river I will have to make the fight on the ground I now occupy.

 

If you can do so I would ask that a diversion be made in my favor. I am, sir, very respectfully, your obedient servant,

 

G. B. CRITTENDEN,        

Major-General Commanding.

 

To the Assistant Adjutant-General, Headquarters Department of the West.²

 

It appears from the above dispatch that Crittenden then expected to remain in his intrenchments and await the attack of the enemy, but he afterward decided to move out and attack them.

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¹ Rebellion Records, Vol. VII., p. 524.

² Rebellion Records, Vol. VII., p. 103.

The above dispatch was handed to General Zollicoffer (he being better acquainted with the troops) with the request to start it at once by couriers. He immediately sent to Captain T. M. Allison for a reliable, well mounted man. Accordingly, C. F. Thomas (Company E) was ordered to go to Mill Springs (one mile), cross the river and report to Zollicoffer. Leaving camp about sunset, Thomas did as requested. Handing him the dispatch, Zollicoffer said: “I want you to take this to General Sidney Johnston, at Bowling Green, and this," handing him another addressed to an officer at Memphis, "you will mail at Gallatin. Take one good man with you and make the trip through to Bowling Green as quick as you possibly can." Recrossing the river, Thomas was soon back in our camp again. He selected to go with him on that venturesome trip John D. McLin, who was then his messmate, and is now (1886) editor of the weekly Nashville American.

 

Swinging themselves into the saddle, Thomas and McLin set out on their daring trip about ten o'clock that night—to use Thomas's own language, “One of the darkest and muddiest I ever saw." They went down the south side of the river. They were not only in danger of meeting Federal scouts and home guards, but also of being shot from the bushes by "bush-whackers." They would sometimes have to travel miles out of their way in order to deceive the home guards, and other times they would pass themselves off to some good old lady as good "Union soldiers." They rode two days and nights, stopping only two or three times for a few moments to feed their horses.

 

Late in the afternoon of the 20th they crossed the Cumberland at Williams' Ferry. Their horses were so fatigued by this time by constant riding through deep mud that they had to stop and let them rest; therefore they put up for the night with one Mr. Williams.

 

With very great surprise and bewilderment did they learn next morning (21st) that neither of their horses was able to travel, having eaten too much corn during the previous night.

 

Seeing that our boys were in distress, and fully realizing the situation, Mr. Williams, who happened to be a kind, generous, noble-hearted Southern man, happily came to their relief by ordering a servant to bring out a span of fine, fat, gray geldings. As soon as they were brought out and saddled Mr. Williams said, Here, boys, take these horses and keep them as long as you need them, and ride them as hard as you please." After returning heart-felt thanks to their kind host for such a great and unexpected favor from a stranger, offered, too, with such a free good-will, the boys leaped into their saddles and pressed on to Gallatin that day. Here they had expected to take the cars for Bowling Green, but in this they were disappointed. The cars had been taken from that road and were then running in the interest of Fort Donelson, which was now threatened by a heavy Federal force.

After mailing the dispatch addressed to Memphis and holding a "council of war," they decided that McLin should remain at Gallatin, while Thomas should get a fresh horse and proceed alone, as they felt that they were now out of danger of home guards and "bush-whackers." Accordingly Thomas set out from Gallatin early on the morning of the 22d, and arriving at Bowling Green about dark the same day, handed the dispatch to General Johnston, who had just received another dispatch announcing the defeat of Crittenden at Fishing Creek. Starting back next morning Thomas rejoined McLin at Gallatin. Returning now at their leisure, and finding their horses all right on arriving at Mr. Williams' they exchanged horses, and finally rejoined their command at Chestnut Mound.

 

I shall here mention another incident in which the two above named took part. It occurred while they were at home on furlough in August, 1863, as follows:

Captain S. Y. Barkley, who lived (and does now) sixteen miles East of Murfreesboro on the pike leading from that place, by the way of Hall's Hill to Liberty, learned late one evening that a small squad of Federals had passed along the pike going in the direction of Liberty. After a ride of about six miles in the direction of Statesville he found C. F. Thomas and John D. McLin at Jim B. Thomas' (C. F's. father). Notwithstanding it was now dark and raining, these three daring riders set out immediately in pursuit of the enemy. About one o'clock A. M., the next morning, they arrived at Auburn, where they learned that two Federals had passed that place going in the direction of Liberty. On learning at Mr. Matthew Wilson's, about two miles beyond Auburn, that the enemy had not passed there, our boys turned and went back to Mr. A. Owen's, where they learned that the Federals had gone about one mile from the pike and put up for the night with one Mr. A. Lax. Our boys drew rein about dawn at Mr. Lax's barn. The old man Lax, who soon came out to feed, was captured first. Next one of the Federals came out to the barn and was made prisoner without the fire of a gun. Leaving the two prisoners in care of Thomas, Barkley and McLin went to the house, where they found the other soldier still asleep. On rousing him up and demanding his surrender, he very coolly remarked, while rubbing his eyes open, "Well, I wish you had let me get my nap out." Taking their horses and arms (and they were well mounted, well armed, and well supplied with ammunition), our boys turned their prisoners loose on parole.

 

SOURCE: Richard R. Hancock, Hancock's Diary: Or, A History of the Second Tennessee Confederate Cavalry, p. 110-3

Diary of Private Richard R. Hancock: Friday, October 25, 1861

Captain Allison sent some of his men out to search the woods into which the bush-whacker was chased last evening to see what discovery they could make. They soon after returned with four muskets, about twenty thousand caps, and some powder, which they had found hid out in the woods.

Captain Horn's servant was shot, but only wounded, by a bush-whacker between Barboursville and Camp Buckner.

Calling in Allison's company off of picket, McNairy moved two miles from Barboursville on the road to Cumberland Ford.

As we were on the lookout for the enemy, we did not unsaddle our horses.

SOURCE: Richard R. Hancock, Hancock's Diary: Or, A History of the Second Tennessee Confederate Cavalry, p. 66-7

Diary of Private Richard R. Hancock: Tuesday, October 29, 1861

Colonel McNairy sent a scout of sixty men out in the direction of London yesterday, and on returning last night four of Captain Horn's company put up for the night some fifteen miles from our camp. As they were coming to camps this morning they were fired on from the bushes. They reported that they returned the fire, killing one of the bush-whackers and capturing four muskets. They brought the muskets into camp. The above named scout went within about seven miles of London and reported that the Federals had advanced from Wildcat to that place.

General Albin Schoepf had advanced from Wildcat with six regiments¹ and two batteries of artillery, and established his headquarters at the junction of the Crab Orchard and Richmond roads, three miles north of London, with two of his regiments thrown forward to that place.

On the above date General Thomas sent the following dispatch to General Schoepf:

I have just received a letter from General Sherman. He objects to advancing the troops too far on this route, and directs that we go no farther than your camp for the present.²

The Major of our battalion, William Malcomb, resigned and started home.

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¹ Fourteenth, Colonel Steedman, and Seventeenth, Colonel Connell, Ohio, Thirty-third Indiana, Colonel Coburn, Third Kentucky, Colonel Garrard, First, Colonel Byrd, and Second, Colonel Carter, Tennessee, and Standart’s and Kenny's Batteries. Rebellion Records, Vol. IV., p. 322.

² Rebellion Records, Vol. IV., p. 323. See Appendix A.

SOURCE: Richard R. Hancock, Hancock's Diary: Or, A History of the Second Tennessee Confederate Cavalry, p. 69-70

Diary of Private Richard R. Hancock: Sunday, September 29, 1861

Col. Rains had learned that Col. Brown, who was in command of the Home Guards that had fled to Wildcat the evening before, lived some two or three miles beyond London, and, thinking that perhaps Brown might have some supplies for his men stored away at his home, he (Rains) ordered Col. McNairy to take his battalion, go to Brown's and search for the supposed supplies. Swinging ourselves into the saddle, before I o'clock A. M., we went by the way of London, and searched Brown's dwelling and premises, but found only a box of shoes.¹ As soon as he was satisfied that there was nothing more to be found in the way of army supplies, our Col. called out, “Mount your horses!” and we were soon on our way back to London. Arriving at that place about daylight, we halted until McNairy treated the whole battalion on brandy, after which we returned to camp and took another breakfast.

Besides the three prisoners and the shoes (twenty-five pairs) already mentioned, Col. Rains captured 8,000 cartridges, 25,000 caps, three kegs of powder, several guns, six barrels of salt, two wagons and teams, loaded with the last of their camp equipage, and three other horses.

Soon after breakfast, our picket came dashing into camp and reported that they had been fired on just beyond London. Major Malcomb was immediately sent out in the direction of London with two companies of McNairy's Battalion to meet the enemy and bring on the engagement, while Col. Rains deployed his men into battle line ready to receive the enemy should Malcomb be forced back. The Major returned, however, and reported no enemy found, so we concluded that it was only a scout, or “bush-whackers,” that had fired on our picket.

Having accomplished the object for which he had been sent out, Col. Rains now set out on his return. Going about eight miles back in the direction of Barboursville, his regiment and Allison's Company bivouacked, while McNairy with the rest of his battalion went on to Barboursville.

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¹ It would seem that the panic struck Col. Brown's family just as they were ready to take supper last eve, for we found their supper still on the table when we entered the house this morning before day, but I did not say that it was on the table when we left.

SOURCE: Richard R. Hancock, Hancock's Diary: Or, A History of the Second Tennessee Confederate Cavalry, p. 49-50

Diary of Private Richard R. Hancock: Monday, September 30, 1861

Through carelessness, or some other cause, five barrels of salt were left where they were captured, near where the enemy had been camping. Lieutenant M. V. Wilson was ordered to take twenty-five of Allison's Company and a wagon and go back after the salt, while the rest of the command moved on toward Barboursville. We regarded this as rather a hazardous trip, though we went back to, and loaded in, four barrels of the salt (thinking five would be too much for our team) without any incident worthy of note; but we had not gone far with our salt before bang! bang! bang! went several guns back about where our rear guard was. This caused considerable excitement in our little squad, though one of the rear guard soon came dashing up, and reported that it was only bush-whackers that had fired on them, and that some of the balls cut very close, but no one was hurt. So we felt better then, and moved on to Barboursville without any more trouble. Here we found two companies of our battalion (B and C), but the other two (A and D) had gone on back to Camp Buckner, on Cumberland river. We found Rains' Regiment and the balance of our company (E) encamped two miles from Barboursville on the road leading back to Camp Buckner.

Col. Cummings went with his detachment to the Salt Works, loaded in all the salt there, 200 bushels, and returned without coming in contact with the enemy. He receipted for the salt, as directed by General Zollicoffer. The Salt Works belonged to Union men, yet Zollicoffer expected to have it paid for at the price of salt at the works—forty cents per bushel.

SOURCE: Richard R. Hancock, Hancock's Diary: Or, A History of the Second Tennessee Confederate Cavalry, p. 50-1

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Monday, July 27, 1863

We move early this morning; cross Jack Creek about noon—a noted guerrilla resort. As the rear was crossing, some of the flankers were fired upon by the bushwhackers, and in vain were our efforts to capture them, they having made good their escape into the brush. We move on and arrive at Lexington about four o'clock, and go into camp near the town. Everything looks dreary and desolate here; we see the effects of war's ruthless hand everywhere. The male inhabitants have nearly all cast their destiny with the South in her desperate struggle for power. Chivalry's daughters seem to rule the place, exhibiting a vaunting defiance. One boasted that no Yankee vandal had ever soiled her carpet. A cavalryman hearing her boast, soon dismounts and presently we hear the music of huge spurs and clanking sabre coming from the shaded corridor; we now hear in the front room sharp and bitter invectives; they come from fair chivalry's wrathful tongue, but the stoical and stern soldier heeds them not, but calmly and coolly he makes his exit, rides to camp, lights his pipe, sits down and rehearses to his comrades his adventure through one of chivalry's gorgeous mansions.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 181-2

Diary of Sergeant David L. Day: April 26, 1864

The surrender of Plymouth, N. C., and death of Flusser caused consternation at Roanoke island, lest the dreaded Albemarle should make them a visit. On the 22d we were ordered to the succor of that island. Embarking on board a large double-ender boat, we left Portsmouth in the afternoon and proceeded up the river, going past the Gosport navy yard, where could be seen the burned and sunken hulks of the U. S. vessels which were destroyed at the surrender of Norfolk and the navy yard at the beginning of the war. We kept on up the river till towards night, when we entered the canal. The boat was a little too wide for the canal and our progress was slow.

About midnight we came to a station, having made but a few miles of our journey. There we found our Brooklyn friends who were doing picket duty. They were right glad to see us and kept us busy answering questions about their old home, which they were beginning to despair of ever seeing again. After an hour's stop we resumed our journey. We had not gone far when the port wheel fouled with a stump, so that we could neither go ahead nor back off. This caused a delay of about two hours, as cutting out floats by the light of a lantern is a slow job. A mile or so further on a similar accident happened. This time they went to work cutting out the stump which was of considerable size, and took with a large amount of swearing, until after daylight to get clear. The port wheel had now acquired a provoking habit of fouling with all the stumps and snags along the bank, and not until late in the afternoon of the 23d did we come out to a lake, sound, bay, or at any rate a large sheet of water, which we crossed, and just before night again entered the canal.

We now enter the eastern edge of the great dismal swamp. I have sometime read a legend of the phantom or witch of the lake of the dismal swamp, who all night long, by the light of the firefly lamp, would paddle her light canoe. On each side of the canal is a cypress swamp, and as the officers were about retiring for the night in the house on deck, the colonel charged the boys to keep a sharp lookout for guerrillas and bush whackers who might be lurking there. About midnight all was still, not a sound was heard save the dull, heavy wheezing of the engines. Stripped of their bark, the dead trunks of the cypress trees looked in the dim light of the sweet German silver-plated moon, weird and ghostlike. Now it required no great stretch of the imagination to see almost anything in this swamp, and it began to be whispered around that bush whackers could be seen behind the trees. Presently the sharp crack of a rifle rang out on the still night air, followed by a general fusillade and a cry that the woods are full of them. The officers came rushing out of the house and the colonel strained his eyes peering into the swamp, but seeing nothing and hearing no return fire, he naturally concluded that the boys were drawing on their imaginations, and gave the order to cease firing. But in such a racket it was difficult to hear orders, especially if they didn't care to, and before he got them stopped, he was giving his orders in very emphatic language. It was rare sport to see the firing go on and to hear the colonel trying to stop it.

About morning we entered the North river, coming out into Currituck sound and sailing around the head of the island, landed at old Fort Huger. The garrison consisted of only the 99th New York, who felt a little nervous about being caught here alone in case the Albemarle should make them a visit. On landing we learned the scare was all over. The ram left Plymouth, intending to come here, but on getting out into the sound the old ferryboats which had been lying in wait went for her and came well nigh sinking her; at any rate they disabled her so much she put back to Plymouth. Finding we were not needed here, after a few hours rest we re-embarked and started back.

The next day as we came out into the wide sheet of water, a cry was raised: “Sail ho! Sail ho!” “Where away?” “Five points off the port bow.” And sure enough, a little to the left and nearly across this lake, sound or whatever it is, lay a small steamer, which proved to be the little mail-boat Gazelle, which lay there stranded. We hauled up and inquired if they wished any assistance. They replied they should be all right as soon as the sand washed from under them, but in the meantime would like a guard aboard. About a dozen men from Company A were put aboard and we went on, arriving back to camp late last evening.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 135-6

Diary of Sergeant David L. Day: February 5, 1864

CAMP WEST.

Yesterday afternoon Camp Hancock became a thing of the past. Under command of Major Mulcay, we marched on to the parade ground of the 139th New York during their dress parade, and before it was dismissed, the major marched us up and introduced us to Col. Roberts. The colonel received us cordially, and complimented us for our soldierly bearing and the good appearance of our arms, equipments and uniforms. We then listened to the reading of an order, assigning us temporarily for duty to this command. A gleam of light now dawned on us. Col. Roberts again addressed us, saying we were here only during the absence of our own regiment, and would hold the same rank and perform the same duties we had done in our own regiment. He added: “Although among strangers, with not a single officer of your own, I know by your appearance and from what I have heard of you, that you will as willingly observe your orders and perform your duties as cheerfully as you have done heretofore.” Then addressing his own regiment, he said: “Receive these men cordially, sharing with them your quarters and blankets, and in all ways treating them as you would like to be treated under similar circumstances.” We made the welkin ring with cheers for Col. Roberts and his command, which were responded to by the 139th. After this another order was read, stating that the long expected march would commence tomorrow morning, the 6th. Col. Roberts, after addressing a few remarks to his own regiment, turned to us and said: “To you of the 25th Massachusetts, I have nothing to say. You know your duty and I am satisfied you will perform it.”

We were then divided off into parties which would equalize the companies of the regiment; the balance, about 25, were sent to Fort Magruder, which is only a short distance away. A dozen others and myself were assigned to company I, Capt. Phillips. The boys were warmly welcomed, and all set about introducing themselves to each other and getting acquainted. This camp is constructed of small log houses, with board doors and glass windows. The houses are furnished with stoves, chairs, stools, table and sleeping bunks. The officers’ quarters are built of logs with the bark left on, and are large and roomy. Some of them are two stories, others are neat little cottages built in Gothic style, and all present a neat, attractive and artistic appearance. These houses are all supplied and furnished with home comforts, some of them containing cabinet organs. The officers have with them their wives, sisters and other female relatives, who fancy the romance and rough experience of a soldiers' camp. This is a Brooklyn regiment; it has been out but little more than a year and has been stationed here all this time, so the men have had the opportunity to fix up their camp to suit them. Their first and only service was with Gen. Dix, when he went up the country towards Richmond in the fall of 1862. Since then they have done picket duty around here, and some scouting up in the woods beyond the town.

They seem to have a mortal horror of bushwhackers, and say the woods above here are full of them, with some guerilla bands. It would seem from what these fellows say that the principle business of these guerilla bands is to look out for prisoners escaping from Richmond, and in connection with bushwhackers, to harass small parties of troops who are sent out to look after them. The scouting parties which go out seem to think that the proper way to deal with bush whackers is to capture them, but scarcely a party goes out without bringing back one or more of their own number either dead or wounded. It is only two days ago I saw a funeral from the camp of the New York First Mounted Rifles of a man who had been killed up there. I tell the Brooklyn boys that the best use a bushwhacker can be put to is to make a target of him, and be sure to hit the bull's eye when you draw a bead on him; never make a prisoner of one. The Brooklynites are asking our boys a thousand questions, and the latter are telling them blood and thunder stories till the former have come to think we are the veritable heroes of Waterloo.

Our friends here seem to be anxious and troubled about the morrow, wondering what kind of a scrape they are going to get into and whether they will come out all right, and are probing to the bottom the dark side of the matter. I try to cheer them up by telling them that from what experience I have had in this business I am not anticipating much of a storm. It has been too long underway and has been too well advertised; we may have a skirmish, nothing more. If the force around here is all that is going, we shall have to look out and not get into much of a skirmish.

The mystery which has for so many days hung over us is at last cleared up, and Gen. Butler, after finding we were not to be driven nor frightened, has in his order assigning us temporarily for duty, acknowledged he was exceeding his authority in threatening us with permanent assignment and taking our warrants from us.

If it had been some other general who didn't know any better I should think he was relenting of his shabby treatment of us, but Gen. Butler knew better, and that makes his treatment of us all the more reprehensible. I presume we shall have to get ourselves and knapsacks back to the News the same way we got here, although there are boats running round twice and three times a week.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 115-7

Diary of Sergeant David L. Day: February 11, 1864

The Expedition.

The morning of February 6th found us in line on the parade ground, New York and Massachusetts shoulder to shoulder. Capt. Phillips, wanting a brave and valiant veteran on the left of his company, assigned me to that post of honor. I reckon the reason for it was that two of his sergeants were on the sick list. While standing in line, waiting the order to march, a scene is transpiring which to us of the 25th is altogether new and strange. The ladies living here in camp are all out, and wetting their handkerchiefs with their tears, are watching the preparations to leave. They are struggling under a fearful burden of anxiety which will not be removed until our return. Groups of men and women are standing around, taking each other by the hand and kissing their good-byes. Our Brooklyn friends are visibly affected, while the 25th boys look on stoically. While men and women with streaming eyes are bidding perhaps their last farewells, these roughened, hardened sons of Mars look with unpitying eye on this affecting scene and laugh. I confess I should have taken a greater interest in the thing and my sympathies would have flowed more freely if I could have taken a hand in the kissing.

We marched into town where the brigade line was formed, consisting of the 139th and 118th New York, two regiments of colored troops and one U. S. battery, (the 2d I think). The mounted rifles were to follow later. This comprised the whole force under command of Brig. Gen. Wistar, whoever he is. The line of march was taken up the country on the road towards Richmond. Arriving at the woods, about a mile from town, the column was halted and a detail made to act as skirmishers. The 139th being on the advance furnished the detail. In this detail the 25th was largely represented, and was under command of Major Mulcay. The major marched his command a few rods into the woods, formed his skirmish line and ordered them forward, the column following. I now began to hear plenty of talk about bushwhackers and business for the boys ahead. Capt. Phillips fell back to the rear of his company, marching by my side. I thought this a good opportunity to scrape an acquaintance, and commenced talking to him, but he did not seem to be in a mood for conversation and said as little as possible. He commenced a low, suppressed whistle of a single strain of Rally 'Round the Flag. I tried all means I could think of to draw him out, but finding I could do nothing with him, I turned my attention to the major and his skirmishers. He was as busy with them and as particular as if they were out for skirmish drill, and kept talking to them all the time about preserving their distances and alignments.

After a time, the boys started up a rabbit, and half a dozen of them gave chase, shouting and yelling till they were out of sight in the woods, where they waited for the major to come up. The major lectured them a little about charging without orders and warning them of the great danger they were in from bushwhackers. All the thanks he got from those heartless fellows for all his care and solicitude was: “Oh! damn the bushwhackers!” and as soon as another rabbit or squirrel was started up, away they would go again. Capt. Phillips, who meanwhile had kept up his whistle, suppressed it long enough to say: “Your boys are taking great risks in running off into the woods in that way; some of them will get shot by bushwhackers.” I said I thought our boys had very little fear of bush whackers, and would sooner have the fun of chasing them than rabbits, besides I thought there was little danger from bush whackers, for when a force like this was marching through they preferred keeping at a safe distance.

A little after noon the cavalry overtook us, and we halted to let them go past us. I was surprised to see such a force; there was a whole brigade, numbering between 3000 and 4000, under command of Col. Spear, who had been sent down from the army of the Potomac, landing at Yorktown, and had now overtaken us. I could now begin to see through a glass darkly. This is the raid on Richmond, of which I had heard some hints before. The cavalry of course are the principal actors, and we are simply the supporting column.

The cavalry past us, we again started. The general hurried us up, wishing to keep as near the cavalry as possible, but the major's skirmish line rather retarded us. It was finally thought that with a large cavalry force in advance the skirmish line was not absolutely necessary, and it was withdrawn. The march was forced till past the middle of the afternoon, when it began to tell on the Brooklyn boys, some of them giving out. They were unaccustomed to such severe marching, and it took hold of them severely. We made a halt of an hour for rest and lunch, and before starting, Col. Roberts made a short address. He thought we were on the eve of a severe battle, and he hoped and believed his regiment would stand up and quit themselves like soldiers, and if successful in our undertaking we should deserve end receive the plaudits of the country. In such a battle, there must necessarily be some victims, but just who, we are of course ignorant, but each one is hoping it will not be him. I laughed, and one of the boys asked what pleased me. I said if the colonel did not look out he would have us all whipped before we sighted the enemy. We pushed along till into the evening; the boys were getting pretty well played out and would make frequent halts without any orders.

There was one of the general's aids who seemed to take a great interest in getting us along, and his interest from some cause or other (probably his canteen) seemed to increase with the evening. The boys would be groping their weary way through the darkness, when some one would give a whistle and they would all squat in the road. This aid would ride up in a great passion and order them up, telling them if they didn't get along faster he would put a regiment of colored troops on the advance. The response to that threat would be: “Bring on your niggers!” This officer had another provoking habit which he came well nigh paying dearly for. There were occasional mud holes in the road caused by the rains; some of them two or three rods across. The boys would flank these to keep their feet from getting wet and sore, but this officer attempted to drive them through, saying it took up the time tanking them. At one of these places he was going to drive them through anyway or it would be the death of some of them. I was quietly going around, and halted to see how he made it work with them. He was swearing at them, wheeling his horse right and left among them, and making himself about as disagreeable as he could. Just then I heard the ominous click of rifle locks, and heard some one ask him if he was aware those rifles were loaded. He seemed to catch on to the idea, and got himself out of that as quickly as possible, and was heard from no more during the march. Soldiers are human, with feelings and passions like other men; they can and do stand a great deal, but they cannot stand everything any more than a stone drag.

The night wore on, the boys were well nigh exhausted and made frequent halts. The colonel would sympathize with them, and encourage them by saying he hoped the day's march was nearly over, telling them to keep up courage and a few miles more the end would be reached. At one of these halts the major showed some impatience, and riding up to the colonel said:

“Colonel, I really do not understand the meaning of this?”

“What's the matter now, major?"

“Why, every few moments this entire regiment will simultaneously sit down?”

“Oh, well, major,” the colonel replied, “the boys are tired; they have come a long way and are pretty well played out; change places with some of them, major, and you will understand it better.”

That seemed to be satisfactory to the major and he rode off, but it cheered the boys up wonderfully and they made quite a distance before halting again.

It is curious how sometimes the most trifling act or expression will raise up the almost exhausted energies of men and inspire hope when almost on the verge of despair. As an instance of this, the boys while marching along had for some time preserved a dead silence; not a word had been spoken, and all seemed to be absorbed in their own reflections, when suddenly I stumbled over a stump. Gathering myself up I exclaimed: “There, I know just where that stump is!" The effect was like magic; all within the sound of my voice broke out in a loud and hearty laugh, and for a time forgot their fatigue and trudged lightly along.

We reached the end of our day's tramp at New Kent sometime after midnight, having made a march of thirty miles. Many of the boys were so exhausted that they threw themselves down on the ground and were soon fast asleep. I prepared some coffee, and while it was boiling, washed myself up, and after drinking my coffee, rolled up in my blanket and was soon asleep.

We slept about three hours when we were routed up, and a little after daylight were again on the march. The boys were pretty stiff and sore, but a mile or two took the kinks out of their legs and limbered them up so they were about as good as new. Nothing transpired worthy of note luring the forenoon's march, unless it was that Capt. Phillips kept up his suppressed whistle of that same strain of Rally 'Round the Flag. I tried to rally him and get him to talking, but it was of no use; he was entirely absorbed in his own reflections, ruminating, as I thought, over the probable chances of leaving a widow and orphan children as a legacy to his country.

Before noon we reached what is called the Baltimore cross roads, about two miles from Bottom bridge which crosses the Chickahominy river. Here we met the cavalry coming back, and Col. Spear reported to Gen. Wistar that on reaching the river he found all the bridges up and a considerable force of the enemy, with infantry and artillery guarding the river. With our small force and only one battery he thought it would be useless to attempt to force the passage of the river. On learning this I felt relieved, for if we couldn't cross the river to them, they certainly couldn't cross it to us, and in all probability they had no desire to do so.

Presently an alarm was raised that the enemy was coming up the White House road. The 139th was ordered down the road to meet them. We went about a quarter of a mile and formed a line of battle. A few cavalry went down the road a couple of miles and when they returned reported no enemy in sight or hearing, a circumstance I did not regret. We then went back and were dismissed for dinner.

This Baltimore is the junction of several roads; the one we came up from New Kent extends on to Richmond, one runs south to Charles City, one northeast to White House, and another runs north over into Northumberland, where once lived a little boy who owned a little hatchet and couldn't tell a lie. It was fortunate for him and the country that he lived at that time for if he had lived in these times the chances are more than a thousand to one that he couldn't have told the truth. There are some half a dozen farm houses scattered round in sight, and also the convenient blacksmith shop is located here.

In the little square formed by the intersection of the roads stands an interesting old building—the church in which Gen. Washington was married. It is a long, low, rather narrow building, without belfrey or ornament of any kind outside or in. It is without paint or even whitewash, and shows the rough marks of age and neglect. It is divested of its seats, having been used for an army hospital. I entered this historic old church and found it half full of the boys cutting their monograms in the ceiling; I uncovered my head in profound reverence for the place and the distinguished parties who were here joined in the holy bonds of wedlock. Here George and Martha mutually pledged themselves each to the other, to share together their joys and sorrows along the pathway of life until death should bring a separation, and well they kept their vows, for I have never learned that either of them ever applied for a divorce, although it is said Martha in prosperous gales was something of a shrew. For this little bit of history I am indebted to one of my Brooklyn friends who had made a previous visit here.

After waiting here a couple of hours the column re-formed and marched back over the road we came nearly to the woods, where we halted to let the cavalry go past us. After passing us they halted to feed their horses and themselves, and while waiting for them an alarm was raised that the enemy were coming through the woods on our flank. Down came the fences and a regiment of darkies filed into the field, and deployed as skirmish

Every few moments they would look back to see where their support was, while their teeth and the whites of their eyes resembled bunches of tallow candles hanging in a dark cellar-way. The alarm of course was a false one, but the colored troops fought nobly.

We arrived back at New Kent about night, and bivouacked on a large field near the village. New Kent is the county seat, and is not much unlike other country places they call towns in Virginia. It contains a court house, jail, church, two or three stores, tavern, a small collection of houses and the inevitable blacksmith shop. There is no such thing in Virginia as a schoolhouse; they have no use for such things. All they want is law and gospel, and I have not been able to find out that these give them a great degree of culture and refinement. More than 200 years ago the colonial Gov. Berkley said: “I thank God there are no public schools in Virginia, and I hope there will be none for the next hundred years.” His hopes have been doubly realized, which probably accounts for the present state of affairs in Virginia.

Getting into camp we built fires, made coffee and began to make ourselves comfortable. Some time in the evening the major happened along where a few of us were standing around a fire of burning rails. He began to upbraid us for burning the rails, telling us if we wanted fires we must go into the woods and get our fuel. I said to the major I thought it was all right to burn the rails; as we were sort of guests on the gentleman's place, I presumed he would be entirely willing and glad to contribute a few rails for our personal comfort during the night. He went off muttering something about destruction of property while the boys added more rails to the fire.

Next morning the march was resumed, Capt. Phillips came out looking bright and pert as a wildcat, the low whistle was no longer heard and he was as full of orders to his company as a major-general. We arrived back on the afternoon of the 9th, and as we sighted Camp West, the ladies were all out on the parade ground, waving their handkerchiefs in greeting of our return. It was like the old Roman armies returning from conquest, when fair maidens, with white waving arms, would welcome their coming. Now another scene ensued; fair women and brave men close in the fond embraces of love and thanksgiving for their miraculous deliverance. I could but feel that the 25th boys were rather slighted in not receiving a share of the kisses, for who can tell that but for them their friends might not now be dwellers in the Hotel de Libby. On the whole we have had rather an interesting excursion, having seen some forty odd miles of the county. It was very woody and I think the poorest I have ever traveled in for chickens, applejack and peach and honey. But the chickens and applejack didn't matter so much as the orders in regard to foraging were very strict. These officers in command here seem to think the proper way to conduct a war is not to hurt anyone or damage their property. The result was not much different from what I expected, and reminds me of the old couplet:

The king of France with 50,000 men marched up the hill

And then marched down again.

I reckon we must have gone very near where Pocahontas befriended Capt. Smith. The history of that little romance is that Smith was captured while ascending the Chickahominy river, and taken higher up the river to Powhatan’s lodge, and that was said to be some twelve miles below where the city of Richmond now stands. So I reckon we must have been in the vicinity where that occurred; I should like to have stayed there two or three days, or at least long enough to have selected some romantic spot as being the place where that drama was enacted, and if possible gathered a few stones and erected some sort of rude monument to the memory of the young lady.

Before dismissing his regiment, Col. Roberts thanked them for their cheerful obedience to orders, endurance and good order while on the march, and especially his new allies, who throughout the long march neither faltered, complained or straggled.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 117-23

Major-General Philip H. Sheridan to Lieutenant-General Ulysses S. Grant, October 7, 1864—9 p.m.

WOODSTOCK, October 7, 1864—9 p.m.                

(Received 9th.)

I have the honor to report my command at this point to-night. I commenced moving back from Port Republic, Mount Crawford, Bridgewater, and Harrisonburg yesterday morning. The grain and forage in advance of these points up to Staunton had previously been destroyed. In moving back to this point the whole country from the Blue Ridge to the North Mountains has been made untenable for a rebel army. I have destroyed over 2,000 barns filled with wheat, hay, and farming implements; over seventy mills filled with flour and wheat; have driven in front of the army over 4[,000] head of stock, and have killed and issued to the troops not less than 3,000 sheep. This destruction embraces the Luray Valley and Little Fort Valley, as well as the main valley. A large number of horses have been obtained, a proper estimate of which I cannot now make. Lieut. John R. Meigs, my engineer officer, was murdered beyond Harrisonburg, near Dayton. For this atrocious act all the houses within an area of five miles were burned. Since I came into the Valley, from Harper's Ferry up to Harrisonburg, every train, every small party, and every straggler has been bushwhacked by people, many of whom have protection papers from commanders who have been hitherto in this valley. From the vicinity of Harrisonburg over 400 wagon-loads of refugees have been sent back to Martinsburg; most of these people were Dunkers and had been conscripted. The people here are getting sick of the war; heretofore they have had no reason to complain, because they have been living in great abundance. I have not been followed by the enemy up to this point, with the exception of a small force of rebel cavalry that showed themselves some distance behind my rear guard to-day. A party of 100 of the Eighth Ohio Cavalry, which I had stationed at the bridge over the North Shenandoah, near Mount Jackson, was attacked by McNeill, with seventeen men; report they were asleep, and the whole party dispersed or captured. I think that they will all turn up; I learn that fifty-six of them have reached Winchester. McNeill was mortally wounded and fell into our hands. This was fortunate, as he was the most daring and dangerous of all the bushwhackers in this section of the country. I would have preferred sending troops to you by the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad; it would have been the quickest and most concealed way of sending them. The keeping open of the road to Front Royal will require large guards to protect it against a very small number of partisan troops. It also obliges me to have a pontoon train, if it is to be kept open, to bridge the Shenandoah and keep up communication with Winchester. However, in a day or two I can tell better. I sent a party of cavalry through Thornton's Gap, and directed the balance of the division of cavalry which I have left in the Valley to take position at Millwood, occupying Chester Gap and Front Royal. Thornton's Gap I have given up, as of no value. With this disposition of forces, I will move infantry round the mountains, via Strasburg, as soon as possible. To-morrow I will continue the destruction of wheat, forage, &c., down to Fisher's Hill. When this is completed the Valley, from Winchester up to Staunton, ninety-two miles, will have but little in it for man or beast. In previous dispatches I have used "lower Valley" when I should have said "upper Valley," or, in other words, in my last dispatch I intended to say that the grain and forage from Staunton up to Lexington had been sent to Richmond, and that the grain and forage from Staunton to Strasburg had been left for the wintering of Early's army. Yesterday Colonel Powell captured a guerrilla camp on the mountains, with ten wagons and teams.

P. H. SHERIDAN,                

Major-General.

 Lieutenant-General GRANT.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 43, Part 1 (Serial No. 91), p. 30-1

Major-General William T. Sherman: Special Field Orders No. 120, November 9, 1864

SPECIAL FIELD ORDERS No. 120.}

HDQRS. MIL. DIV. OF THE MISS.,                                  

In the Field, Kingston, Ga.,                

November 9, 1864.

I. For the purpose of military operations this army is divided into two wings, viz, the Right Wing, Maj. Gen. O. O. Howard commanding, the Fifteenth and Seventeenth Corps; the Left Wing, Maj. Gen. H. W. Slocum commanding, the Fourteenth and Twentieth Corps.

II. The habitual order of march will be, wherever practicable, by four roads, as near parallel as possible and converging at points hereafter to be indicated in orders. The cavalry, Brigadier-General Kilpatrick commanding, will receive special orders from the commander-in-chief.

III. There will be no general train of supplies, but each corps will have its ammunition train and provision train distributed habitually as follows: Behind each regiment should follow one wagon and one ambulance; behind each brigade should follow a due proportion of ammunition wagons, provision wagons, and ambulances. In case of danger each army corps commander should change this order of march by having his advance and rear brigade unincumbered by wheels. The separate columns will start habitually at 7 a.m., and make about fifteen miles per day, unless otherwise fixed in orders.

IV. The army will forage liberally on the country during the march. To this end, each brigade commander will organize a good and sufficient foraging party, under the command of one or more discreet officers, who will gather, near the route traveled, corn or forage of any kind, meat of any kind, vegetables, corn-meal, or whatever is needed by the command, aiming at all times to keep in the wagons at least ten days' provisions for the command and three days' forage. Soldiers must not enter the dwellings of the inhabitants, or commit any trespass, but during a halt or a camp they may be permitted to gather turnips, potatoes, and other vegetables, and to drive in stock in sight of their camp. To regular foraging parties must be intrusted the gathering of provisions and forage at any distance from the road traveled.

V. To army corps commanders alone is intrusted the power to destroy mills, houses, cotton-gins, &c., and for them this general principle is laid down: In districts and neighborhoods where the army is unmolested no destruction of such property should be permitted; but should guerrillas or bushwhackers molest our march, or should the inhabitants burn bridges, obstruct roads, or otherwise manifest local hostility, then army commanders should order and enforce a devastation more or less relentless according to the measure of such hostility.

VI. As for horses, mules, wagons, &c., belonging to the inhabitants, the cavalry and artillery may appropriate freely and without limit, discriminating, however, between the rich, who are usually hostile, and the poor or industrious, usually neutral or friendly. Foraging parties  may also take mules or horses to replace the jaded animals of their trains, or to serve as pack-mules for the regiments or brigades. In all foraging, of whatever kind, the parties engaged will refrain from abusive or threatening language, and may, where the officer in command thinks proper, give written certificates of the facts, but no receipts, and they will endeavor to leave with each family a reasonable portion for their maintenance.

VII. Negroes who are able-bodied and can be of service to the several columns may be taken along, but each army commander will bear in mind that the question of supplies is a very important one and that his first duty is to see to them who bear arms.

VIII. The organization at once of a good pioneer battalion for each army corps, composed if possible of negroes, should be attended to. This battalion should follow the advance guard, should repair roads, and double them if possible, so that the columns will not be delayed after reaching bad places. Also, army commanders should study the habit of giving the artillery and wagons the road, and marching their troops on one side, and also instruct their troops to assist wagons at steep hills or bad crossings of streams.

IX. Capt. O. M. Poe, chief engineer, will assign to each wing of the army a pontoon train, fully equipped and organized, and the commanders thereof will see to its being properly protected at all times.

By order of Maj. Gen. W. T. Sherman:

L. M. DAYTON,                   

Aid-de-Camp.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 39, Part 3 (Serial No. 79), p. 713-4

Diary of Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Sunday, May 15, 1864

Marched four miles from south of Salt Sulphur Springs to north of Union — a beautiful grazing country. Salt Sulphur a pleasure resort in good condition; Union a fine village. A bushwhacker killed by [the] Thirty-sixth. Slept last night on the ground; rained all night; roads still worse. Slept well. Greenbrier River reported unfordable. Starvation only to be kept off by energetic and systematic foraging. General Crook anxious; works himself like a Turk.

Four men of Company F, who went out foraging at Blacksburg, reported to have been seen dead on the road. They went out foolishly unarmed. Washed, shirted, and cleaned up.

MEMORANDA..

1. A better pioneer party.

2. A provost guard to look after stragglers, prevent plundering, etc.

3. A better arrangement for sick and wounded.

4. A guard to feed and keep prisoners.

We have now been fifteen days away from all news except of our own successful movements.

We have here two hundred and fifty Rebel prisoners of [the] Thirty-sixth, Forty-fifth, Sixtieth Virginia, etc. They are wellbehaved, civil fellows; have had very little to eat for some days. We are trying to feed them. A good Secesh mother is now feeding some of them.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 458-9

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: October 11, 1863

I attended a meeting of “mechanics” and citizens at the City Hall last night. The prime mover of this organization is E. B. Robinson, some twenty years ago one of my printers in the Madisonian office. It was fully attended, and although not so boisterous as might have been expected, was, nevertheless, earnest and determined in its spirit. Resolutions instructing Mr. Randolph (State Senator, and late Secretary of War) to vote for a bill before the General Assembly reducing and fixing the prices of the necessities of life, were passed unanimously; also one demanding his resignation, in the event of his hesitating to obey. He was bitterly denounced by the speakers.

I understood yesterday, from the butchers, that they have been buying beef cattle, not from the producers, but from a Mr. Moffitt (they say a commissary agent), at from 45 to 55 cents gross; and hence they are compelled to retail it (net) at from 75 cents to $1.25 per pound to the people. If this be so, and the commissary buys at government prices, 18 to 22 cents, a great profit is realized by the government or its agent at the expense of a suffering people. How long will the people suffer thus? This community is even now in an inflammable condition, and may be ignited by a single spark. The flames of insurrection may at any moment wrap this slumbering government in its destructive folds; and yet the cabinet cannot be awakened to a sense of the danger. Mr. Seddon (who may be better informed than others), deeply sunken in his easy chair, seems perfectly composed; but he cannot know that his agents are permitted to prey upon the people: and the complaints and charges sent to him are acted upon by his subordinates, who have orders not to permit business of secondary importance to engage his attention; and his door-keepers have instructions to refuse admittance to persons below a certain rank.

Nothing but the generous and brave men in the army could have saved us from destruction long ago, and nothing else can save us hereafter. If our independence shall be achieved, it will be done in spite of the obstructions with which the cause has been burdened by the stupidity or mismanagement of incompetent or dishonest men.

“the Sufferings Of The Border Missourians. — The people of Missouri, on the Kansas border, are being slaughtered without mercy under the authority of the Yankee commander of that department, Schofield. A letter to the St. Louis Republican (Yankee) says:

“On Sunday last the desire for blood manifested itself in the southeastern part of Jackson County, not far from the village of Lone Jack. Although it was Sunday, the people of that region, alarmed and terror-stricken by threats from Kansas, and cruel edicts, from headquarters of the district, were hard at work straining every nerve to get ready to leave their homes before this memorable 9th day of September, 1863.

“One party of these unfortunate victims of a cruel order had almost completed their preparations, and within half an hour's time would have commenced their weary wanderings in search of a home. It consisted of Benjamin Potter, aged seventy-five; John S. Cave, aged fifty; William Hunter, aged forty-seven; David Hunter, aged thirty-five; William C. Tate, aged thirty; Andrew Owsley, aged seventeen; and Martin Rice and his son. While thus engaged in loading their wagons with such effects as they supposed would. be most useful to them, a detachment of Kansas troops (said to be part of the Kansas 9th, though this may be a mistake), under command of Lieut.-Col. Clark and Capt. Coleman, came up and took them all prisoners.

“After a little parleying, Mr. Rice and his son were released and ordered to leave; which they did, of course. They had not gone much over three-fourths of a mile before they heard firing at the point at which they had left the soldiers with the remaining prisoners. In a short time the command moved on, and the wives and other relatives of the prisoners rushed up to ascertain their fate. It was a horrid spectacle.

“There lay six lifeless forms — mangled corpses — so shockingly mangled that it was difficult, my informant stated, to identify some of them. They were buried where they were murdered, without coffins, by a few friends who had expected to join them on that day, with their families, and journey in search of a home.

“These are the unvarnished facts with reference to an isolated transaction. There are many, very many others of a similar character that I might mention, but I will not. The unwritten and secret history of our border would amaze the civilized world, and would stagger the faith of the most credulous. In the case just mentioned, we find an old man who had passed his threescore and ten, and a youth who had not yet reached his score, falling victims to this thirsty cry for blood.

“The world will doubtless be told that six more bushwhackers have been cut off, etc. But believe it not, sir; it is not true. These six men never were in arms, neither in the bush or elsewhere, I have been told by one who has known them for years past. The widows and orphans of some of them passed through this city yesterday, heart-broken, homeless wanderers.”

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 67-70

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Luman Harris Tenney: September 6, 1863

East Tennessee.  Up early and on the march at 6:30 towards Knoxville. Passed through a very pretty country along the railroad. Passed Dr. Baker's, killed by Trescott, Co. C on raid, bushwhacker. Many rich people, many well dressed darkies. Reached K. at 3 and lay in dust for two hours. Major Seward — disgusted — marched us through town when Col. P. overtook us and ordered us back through town and to camp north of river. Very pretty town, 6,000 or 7,000 inhabitants once, many vacant houses now. Hartsuff's Headquarters. Depots, cars and barracks. Boys showed me old fighting ground.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 87

1st Lieutenant Charles Wright Wills: February 14, 1862

Cape Girardeau, Mo., February 14, 1862.

Sam arrived here to-night and brought me everything I could wish for except my watch. Jem Harper from Company K is home on furlough and we expect him now shortly, also Benton Spencer. If you could manage to send the watch by one of them I would be much obliged. I cannot well get along without one now. You seem to be very happy about my getting away from the Point. Rather more so than I am myself. If I had stayed there I would have been with a fair chance to fight — to fight soldiers. Here there are no forces to fight but a few hundred bushwhackers that will lie by the roadside in the swamp, and I believe they would murder Jesus Christ if they thought he was a Union man. We failed in doing what we wanted to the last trip, but I believe we'll get even with them yet. I'd hate mightily to get killed by such a pack of murderers, but that isn't my business. If U. B. and father have experienced such trips as we have, I'll bet I beat them in one thing — enjoying them. I always feel better out that way than in camp. The 11th Missouri is still with us and the 17th has gone to Tennessee. The colonel, Ross, picked out 50 or 60 of his most worthless men and put them on the gunboats. There are some hopes that our regiment will be ordered to Kentucky soon or to Wheaton, Mo., for there is a regiment of Missourians here forming that will be sufficient to guard this vicinity. This place if not entirely secession is very strongly southernly righteous. I am getting acquainted with the female population slowly, not very, and one family of three girls tell me they are positively the only unconditional Union women in town. But the others show nothing of the cold shoulder to us. They are all very friendly and sociable. Quite a number of beautiful girls here. The aristocracy here are all Catholic. Funny, isn't it? Frenchy.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 61-2

1st Lieutenant Charles Wright Wills: February 9, 1862

Cape Girardeau, February 9, 1862.

I, like a good boy, wrote you a long letter yesterday, and, like a careless fellow, lost it. I told you in it how we “300” of us, left here in the p. m. of last Monday, rode all night and at daylight made a desperate charge into Bloomfield where we found and captured nothing. How a little party of 15 of our boys were surprised some eight miles beyond Bloomfield by 80 Rebels and one of them captured, one badly wounded and another's horse shot and he at last accounts running in the swamps. How the major got together his men and went out and captured some 20 of the bushwhackers and killed five and how he returned to the Cape, etc. You have read about this riding and marching all night until I expect you hardly think of its being fatiguing and somewhat wearing on the human system, etc., but allow me to assure you that it is. Novice as I am in riding, the cold and fatigue were so severe on me that I slept like a top horseback, although I rode with the advance guard all the time and through country the like of which I hope you'll never see. There is a swamp surrounding every hill and there are hills the whole way. Damn such a country. We passed, a small scouting party of us, the bones of seven Union men. They were all shot at one time. I didn't go with the party to see them. One of our guards went out with a party of nine of the 17th Infantry boys and captured some 20 secesh and brought in, in a gunny sack, the bones of five other Union men. I noticed there were no skulls and asked the guide where they were. He said that “as true as truth the secesh who murdered them had taken the skulls to use for soup bowls.” I was talking with a man to-night who had his two sons shot dead in the house by his side last week. A gang of fellows came to the house while he was eating supper and fired through between the logs. He burst open the door and escaped with but one shot in him after he saw that his sons were killed. I can hardly believe that these things are realities, although my eyes and cars bear witness. In my reading I can remember no parallel either in truth or fiction for the state of things we have in this southeastern portion of Missouri. Anyone can have his taste for the marvelous, however strong, glutted by listening to our scouts and the refugees here. I thank God from my heart that dear old Illinois knows nothing of the horrors of this war. The 17th left here yesterday for Fort Henry. The boys were very glad to start. The old 8th was there with the first. I almost wish I had stayed with her. Without bragging or prejudice I am satisfied that the 8th is the best in every respect of the whole 100 regiments I have seen and has the best colonel. Colonel Kellogg is now commanding the post and Sid. is “A. A. A. General,” and I am “A Regimental Adjutant.” My duties are light, though, and I am in tip-top health. That ride didn't hurt me at all. I can stand riding with the best of them. I suppose that Sam will be with us soon. I hope our regiment will be ordered to Kentucky. I believe I'd rather be shot there than to bushwhack around in Missouri much longer. The major and I will get along capitally. He stands fatigue equal to any of us. He and I took a ride of 30 miles alone through the swamps the other day. Send my watch the first chance you have.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 60-1

3rd Sergeant Charles Wright Wills: October 10, 1861

Bird's Point, October 10, 1861.

I have just finished a dinner of cider, cake, bread, butter, etc. We have just been paid off and of course have to indulge in a few delicacies for awhile. Last Tuesday we were ordered to strike tents and pack for a march. It wasn't much of a march though for we were put on the cars and rolled out to Charleston, 12 miles from here, where we camped on a beautiful little prairie adjoining town. The 11th Illinois, Taylor's artillery and two companies of cavalry and our regiment formed the party. I think we were out looking after that damned Jeff Thompson, who is reported everywhere from Ironton down to New Madrid. I don't believe he has a thousand men, for there seems to be nothing reliable about any of the reports we have of him. The natives up at Charleston told us that Jeff was at Sykestown, 12 miles from there, with 5,000 or 6,000 troops, and our pickets had several little fights with his, or what we supposed to be his, but — well, the generals may know better but we that stay in the ranks think that there is no enemy nearer than Columbus save a few small bands of bushwhackers, who, under the impression that they are upholding principles eternal and doing their country service, gobble up everything sweet or sour, that weighs less than a ton. We came down from Charleston Thursday. We marched about 10 miles of the way through an immense (it seemed so to me) cypress swamp. I think Mrs. Stowes’ “Dred” would have enjoyed that swamp hugely. It was rather an interesting piece of scenery for a first view, but I don't think I should enjoy living in sight of it. The 18th, Colonel Lawler, worked six or eight weeks in this swamp repairing bridges the secesh had burnt, and it put half their men on the sick list. We got our pay in treasury notes but they are as good as the gold. Lots of the boys have traded them off for gold “even up.” I get $21 this time for two months and five days, our other boys got $14 or $15. I am third sergeant now, our second having been appointed sergeant major. I think I should rather be sergeant, for the field officers make a kind of servant of the sergeant major. I send you a couple of daguerreotypes to let you see what a “skeleton” I have become. Our boys are all very well. The 17th is in a pretty hard condition, nearly half of them sick and as a regiment pretty badly used up. We have been paid twice and they only $10 yet.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 35-6

Private Charles Wright Wills: September 30, 1861

Norfolk, September 30, 1861.

You think I'm doing pretty well in the number of my letters, don't you? I can afford to for you are the only correspondent I have. You musn't be surprised if you don't get letters from me so regularly after this, for if we start back in the country, as I expect we will, to intercept Price's retreat if Fremont whips him, we may be away from mails and such like for some time. If anything happens to me you will hear it just as quick as the news can be taken to you.

Since my last we have had some more fun here. Our company was out a few miles the other day to capture an old cuss we thought was peddling news from our camp down to Columbus. He had skedaddled though before we got to his house. We gobbled up all the loose plunder we could find lying around, it wasn't much, and marched back. We had a mighty good time on picket a few nights ago. It was confounded cold, bushwhackers or no bushwackers we concluded to have a fire. A couple of the boys volunteered to go back to camp for kettles and coffee, and we found lots of nice roasting ears in the field we were camped in, and a kind of pumpkin that ate very well after a little roast before the fire. Then there were splendid pawpaws, lots of nuts of all kinds which a little fire made ripe, and we sat and cooked and ate all night. I can eat, if necessary, 36 hours without intermission except for an occasional drink, and I drink nearly a half gallon of coffee per day.

Last night the Pekin company in our regiment were on picket and at 3 this morning they were attacked. Ten of them held their ground against 150 half-mounted and half-foot and finally made them scoot. It was a devilish brave thing. The Rebels left one dead and one so badly wounded that he’ll die to-night, and carried off two others dead and four badly wounded. A lot more were scratched. But one of our men was wounded, and that a flesh wound in the arm, that will hardly take him off duty. The firing roused us here in the camp and we thought from the noise that the longed fight had come at last for certain. I tell you it was funny when the long roll (we would not get out of bed without the long roll for a thousand cannons these cold nights) to see the boys scramble for shoes and accoutrements. There was some profanity. I have just been to see a poor devil that has blown half of his head off this afternoon to get rid of his troubles. A soldier. Don't know what he suicided for. We are messed off now, 15 in a tent, each tent's inmates cooking and eating by themselves.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 33-4

Private Charles Wright Wills: Late September 1861

Norfolk [date torn off.]

The colonel talks some to-night about a forward movement, and two regiments have come across the river from the Kentucky side this evening, the Iowa 2d and 7th. The 17th are still opposite us and I have seen none of them yet. Our cavalry scouts are fighting now more or less every day. Yesterday a party of the Iowa 7th were out hunting bushwhackers when they were attacked by a company of horsemen of whom they killed four. One of our men was shot while returning from a scout. They routed the enemy but came back and reported four of their men missing, but the lost four have all come in to-day. Our men think they finished a couple at least but 'tis questionable. We are all again bored to death with lying still, but patience and we'll get what we want in time. We have the report here to-day that Colonel Mulligan has capitulated to Price, Jackson & Co. at Lexington. This, if true, will certainly retard our movement down the Mississippi. I'm getting perfectly indifferent about Fremont's being superseded or as to who has the command. It seems to me that none of our commanders are doing anything. With at least 75,000 troops at Paducah, Cairo and in Missouri to allow the gallant Mulligan to be forced to surrender is perfectly shameful. It's disheartening to a soldier, I tell you. Let them go on, if this war goes against us 'twill be the fault of our commanders and not of the men, sure. Yesterday information was brought our colonel that a battery was in course of erection on the Kentucky shore six miles below us. We were put on steamboats 2,000 or 2,500 strong and preceded by two gunboats scooted down, when within a mile of the place our regiment was landed and we marched down but of course found no battery.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 32-3

Diary of Sergeant Major Luman Harris Tenney, Friday, December 5, 1862

As we neared Cowskin a good many bushwhackers showed themselves, but at a distance. Camped three miles north of Elk Mills.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 49