Diary of Captain Joseph Stockton, December 18, 1862

In camp eight miles from Oxford. We cannot move our camps but a few miles distance from the railroad, as all our subsistence depends on our being able to keep the road open. Our camp is in a beautiful forest of splendid large trees, fine water, and I enjoy the large log fires we have, particularly at night when it is the only light we can have. There are a number of Germans in my company who sing very well and it is always a pleasure to me to have them come up to my quarters and sing. Days are warm and pleasant. Sent a few leaves of holly to Kate as my Christmas gift. Also sent some to St. James church for a Christmas wreath.

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

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, Monday, September 22, 1862

Knapsack drill to-day,—something new to me, though I am told it is to take place every Sunday morning when in camp. As we were not here yesterday, it was put off until to-day. We marched out to the drill ground with our knapsacks on, expecting to practice as usual, except that we were loaded that much heavier. As all our belongings were in our knapsacks, they were quite heavy. We formed in column by companies and were told to "unsling knapsacks." We all had to be coached, but we finally stood at attention with our knapsacks lying on the ground wide open before us. Then the colonel, the major and the captain of the company being inspected, marched along and with the tip of their swords poked over the contents, regardless of how precious they might be to us. And such a sight as they saw! Besides our extra underclothing, some clean and some unclean, there were Bibles, whiskey bottles, novels, packs of cards, love letters and photographs, revolvers and dirk knives, pen and ink, paper and envelopes and postage stamps, and an endless variety of odds and ends we had picked up in our travels.

As soon as the inspection was over with Company A, they were marched back to camp and so all along the line until Company B, the last of all, was reached. When we got back to camp some of the companies had been there long enough to get asleep. Nothing more was required of us, and we put in the time as we chose, provided always that we observed the camp regulations.

I may never have so good a chance, so I will try and explain some of the things we have learned to do and how we do it. Begin with roll-call. The orderly sergeant, Lew Holmes, has our names in a book, arranged in alphabetical order in one place, and in the order in which we march in another. If it is simply to see if we are all here, he sings out "Fall in for roll-call" and we get in line, with no regard to our proper places, and answer to our names as called from the alphabetical list. If for drill, "Fall in for drill!" and then we take our places with the tallest man at the right, and so on, till the last and shortest man is in place on the left. We are then in a single line, by company front. The orderly then points at the first man and says "One," which the man repeats. He then points to the second man and says "Two," which is also repeated. So it goes down the line, the one, two, being repeated, and each man being careful to remember whether he is odd or even. When that is done, and it is very quickly done, the orderly commands, "Right face!" The odd-numbered men simply swing on the left heel one quarter of the way around and stand fast. The even-numbered men do the same, and in addition step obliquely to the right of the odd-numbered man, bringing us in a double line and one step apart, which distance we must carefully keep, so that when the order "Front!" is given, we can, by reversing the movement of "Right face!" come to our places without crowding. When coming to a front, the line is not apt to be straight and the order "Right dress!" is given, when the man on the right stands fast and the one next to him puts himself squarely by his side. The next moves back or forth until he can just see the buttons on the coat of the second man to his right,—that is, with his head erect, he must look past one man and just see the buttons on the coat of the second man from him. That makes the line as straight as you can draw a string. "Left face!" is the same thing reversed. In marching, one has only to keep step with the one next in front of him. If this is done, the blame for irregular time all comes upon the file leaders, which are the two in front; they must keep step together. If Company B is going out to drill by itself it is now ready. If, however, the entire regiment is to drill together, as it has a few times, Company A marches out first, and as the rear passes where Company F is standing the latter falls in, close behind; and so each company, until Company B, which is the left of the line, and the last to go, falls in and fills up the line, Why the companies are arranged in the line as they are is a mystery I have so far failed to find out. From right to left they come in the following order: A, F, D, I, C, H, E, K, G and B. A is said to have the post of honor, because in marching by the right flank it is ahead, and meets danger first if there be any. Company B has the next most honorable position, because in marching by the left flank it is in the lead. There is a great advantage in being in the lead. On a march the files will open, more or less, and when a halt is ordered the company in the lead stops short. The other companies keep closing up the files, and by the time the ranks are closed "Attention!" may sound, and another start be made. The first company has had quite a breathing spell, while the last has had very little, if any. If I were to enlist again, I would try hard to get in Company A, for all the marching we have so far done has been by the right flank, Company A at the head and Company B bringing up the rear. When we reach the field we are generally broken up into companies, each company drilling in marching by the front, wheeling to the right and left, and finally coming together again before marching back to camp.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 34-6

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, Wednesday, September 24, 1862

New tents were given us to-day. "A" tents they are called; I suppose because they are in the shape of a letter A. They are like the roof of a house cut off at the eaves, and one gable split open for us to enter, with strings sewed fast to one side and buttonholes in the other so we can close them up tight. A detail from each company has been clearing up the ground and laying out for an all winter stay. The officers have moved back to the more level portion of the field, which brings our lines of tents on much better ground than before. A long and wide street has been laid out and is being graded off, on the west side of which the officers' tents are ranged, the colonel's tent in the middle and a little in the rear of the tents of the captains and lieutenants, which are directly in front of their respective companies. On a line with Colonel Cowles' tent are those of the lieutenant colonel (which by the way has no occupant yet, he being off somewhere on detached service), the major, quartermaster, adjutant, surgeon and chaplain. Back of these is a big tent called the Hospital, which so far has not been of much use. Then in front of all these are the companies' quarters, the ten company streets running off at right angles to the broad street along which the company officers' tents are now being placed. A wide space is left in front of Colonel Cowles' tent, and runs clear through camp, nothing being on it but a flag-pole, which is to stand directly in front of the colonel's tent and in line with the tents of the company officers. So many hands make light work of any job, but I am only telling how it is to be, for only the laying out is completed and the grading begun.

We that were not detailed for the work were taken out to the great sandy plain toward what I am told is Chesapeake Bay and given a lesson in battalion-drill.

The 135th N. Y. was with us, and from the crowds of people who were there I suppose battalion drill is something worth seeing. But it was anything but fun for us, and we came back to camp hungry, tired, and with as much dust on us as would stick. We were glad enough to crawl into our old shelter tents. It is well I wrote the most of the day's doings before we went out, for it is hard work to put this little finish to it. Good-night, diary.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 37-8

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, Saturday, September 27, 1862

We are looking for the Dutchess County regiment as if their coming was an assured fact, yet it is only a rumor, and even that cannot be traced very far. Aside from our daily drill, which is not much fun, we manage to get some amusement out of everything that comes along. We visit each other and play all sorts of games. Fiddling and dancing take the lead just now. The company streets, now that the ground has been smoothed off, make a good ballroom. A partner has just been swung clear off the floor into a tent, onto a man who was writing a letter, and from the sound is going to end up in a fight. "Taps" are sounded at 9 P. M., which is a signal for lights out and quiet in the camp.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 39

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, September 29, 1862

CAMP MILLINGTON, BALTIMORE. On account of the heat we were not taken out for drill to-day. We have cleaned up our quarters, for since getting our new and comfortable tents we are quite particular about appearances. There is a friendly rivalry as to which of the ten companies shall have the neatest quarters. All being exactly alike to start with, it depends upon us to keep them neat and shipshape. The cooks have tents as well as we, and altogether we are quite another sort from what we were a week ago. It has been a regular clean up day with us. The brook below us has carried off dirt enough from our clothing and bodies to make a garden. While we were there close beside the railroad, a train loaded with soldiers halted, and while we were joking with the men, someone fired a pistol from another passing train, and a sergeant on the standing train was killed—whether it was by accident or purposely done, no one knows; or whether the guilty one will be found out and punished, no one of us can tell. But I wonder so few accidents do happen. There are hundreds of revolvers in camp and many of them in the hands of those who know no better how to use them than a child.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 40-1

Diary of Private Edward W. Crippin, Sunday, August 25, 1861

Roll call as usual 5½ A. M. Meeting at 10 A. M. Rather dull in [camp]. drissling rain in the afternoon An order to leave to-morrow. Quite a No. of men have the ague. It is getting to be quite sickly here Hospital is pretty near full of sick. Thirteen men from Smiths Comp. from Galena came this evening and joined our Comp. 1861

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

Diary of Musician David Lane, October 9, 1862

Pleasant Valley, October 9th, 1862.

We moved from Antietam day before yesterday, in order, as reported, to be nearer our supplies. However, as soldiers know nothing of movements until after they are made, we may leave here today. As I was writing the last sentence, I learned we are to move this afternoon, about two miles, where we will have more room and better accommodations. The order to march is always welcome to me. I hate the monotony of camp life. The same is true of nearly all our regiment. We want to finish up our work and go home to our families—for nearly all have families. From our old camp to the present one is about twelve miles—the toughest twelve miles I ever traveled. Our route lay over the Elk Ridge Mountain, about six miles winding up its steep, rocky sides, the remaining half down the opposite side, the midday sun pouring his fierce rays against its rocky surface, making the heat well-nigh unbearable. There was not even a whispering breeze to cool our throbbing brows. Two men of our brigade melted down and died, while hundreds fell out by the way and came straggling into camp next morning. The movement was foolishly conducted on the principle of a forced march when there was no call for haste. I was quite lame at the time, having cut a deep gash in my heel a few days before, which compelled me to walk on the toe of that foot. This made walking over such a road and for so long a distance rather difficult. I fell behind the regiment for the first time, but came into camp about sundown. Some companies left nearly every man by the roadside.

On Friday Robert Covert and myself went down to the river to wash our clothing. The day was hot, and Robert went in to bathe. I was sitting on the shore, in company with others of my regiment, dreamily watching the sportive antics of the bathers, when my attention was attracted to Robert by what I thought to be a peal of laughter.

With an exclamation of horror I sprang to my feet. "My God, boys, he's sinking, drowning!" He had made but two or three strokes when taken with cramps and rendered helpless. I will long remember the pleading look, the agonized cry, as he rose to the surface. There was no time for thought; he was going down the second time; in a moment he will be beyond our reach. I cannot swim, but I seized a long pole and plunged in. It was not quite long enough to reach the place where he went down, but at that instant a man stripped for a swim rushed past me, and, holding to the end of my pole, threw his shirt to Robert as he came to the surface. He caught it, and we pulled him to the shore.

I am frequently asked how I like soldiering. For a wonder, I am not disappointed. If anything, it is more endurable than I expected to find it. There are hardships as a matter of fact, it is all hardship—but I was prepared for all that. I expected to suffer—to endure—and find myself the gainer by it. While others say: "If I had known, I would not have enlisted," I can say with truth I am glad I did. If I can be of service to my country, I will be satisfied. That which troubles and annoys me most, others do not seem to mind. It is the intolerable, nauseating stench that envelops a military camp. My olfactories have become SO acutely sensitive I can smell an encampment "afar off." Many complain of the strictness of military discipline. That does not trouble me. The law is a "terror to evil doers.” I am thankful for the many kind friends I have found here. I hail with delight the President's proclamation. I believe it is a step in the right direction.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 15-7

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, October 28, 1862

We have been hard at work yesterday and to-day fixing up our camp, which is located about a quarter of a mile from town on the old racecourse. There are troops stationed in our neighborhood in every direction. Quite a village; but our time so far has been too much employed at home to do much visiting. We are in tents, nineteen men to a tent. We have been banking and boarding up, to prepare for bad weather, although our barracks are nearly done, and we hope to get into them soon. We are very much crowded in our tent, but have plenty of fresh air, of which we have had very little for a week, and are correspondingly thankful. Rumors are beginning to come; we have them to-night that we are going to into the Wilderness immediately. Our tent is comparatively vacant, as this afternoon five were taken out for night guard on a supply train.

SOURCE: John Jasper Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass. Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 16

Diary of Captain Joseph Stockton, November 29, 1862

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

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

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, Monday, September 8, 1862

Monday morning. Our first night in Baltimore is over. We had roll-call, to see if we were all here, and then spread our blankets on the ground and were soon sound asleep. Walt. Loucks and I each having a blanket, we spread one on the ground and the other over us. With our knapsacks for a pillow, we slept as sound as if in the softest bed. The dew, however, was heavy, and only for the blanket over us we would have been wet through. As it was, our hair was as wet as if we had been swimming. Sleeping on the ground, in clothing already wet with sweat, and the night being quite cool, has stiffened our joints, so we move about like foundered horses. Had the Rebs come upon us when we first got up we couldn't have run away and we certainly were not in a condition to defend ourselves. But this wore off after a little, and we were ourselves again. As it was in Hudson, so it is here. All sorts of rumors as to what we do next are going the rounds. I have given up believing anything, and shall wait until we do something or go somewhere, and then, diary, I'll tell you all about it.

Night. We put in the day sitting around and swapping yarns, etc. None of us cared to go about, for we were pretty tired, after our hard day yesterday. Shelter tents were given out to-day. One tent for every two men. They are not tents at all, nothing but a strip of muslin, with three sticks to hold them up. There are four pins to pin the corners to the ground. Then one stick is put in like a ridge pole, and the other two set under it. The ends are pinned down as far apart as a man is long, and then the middle raised up. They may keep off rain, if it falls straight down, but both ends are open, and two men fill it full. We have got them up, each company in a row. It is a funny sight to stand on the high ground and look over them. Lengthwise, it is like a long strip of muslin with what a dressmaker calls gathers in it. Looked at from the side it is like a row of capital A's with the cross up and down instead of crosswise.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 20-1

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, September 11, 1862

We heard heavy firing this morning, from the direction of the city, which we at first thought must be fighting going on there, but which we afterwards learned was practice for the gunners at Fort Henry, and on the gunboats, both of which lie somewhere off in that direction. We kept on cleaning up our camp ground to-day and it begins to look real nice. A running vine, which was all over the ground, has poisoned a great many, although some that handled it the most did not get any. Philip Allen's face looks like a bladder. The doctor has fixed up a wash that he says will soon cure it. We had just about enough to do to-day to give us a good appetite. A storm is brewing, and we are wondering what it will do to us with only a strip of muslin to keep it off.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 24

Diary of 1st Lieutenant Daniel L. Ambrose: Monday, November 21, 1864

At seven o'clock we move. Oh! how terrible the mud; teams sticking all along the road, and in consequence we move slow. We go into camp about ten o'clock upon an open field. It is now raining. The regiment is upon half rations; the men are standing, shivering around the camp fires; it is a terrible night; the fierce, wild winds sweep through the Seventh's camp. Nothing to shelter the men from the howling storm, but this matters not. "Let the world wag as it will, we'll be gay and happy still," breaks forth from the soldiers as it were in harmony with the elements. There is manhood here; there is fidelity around these camp fires, and how sad the fact that there are men in America who would be loath to acknowledge it.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 279-80

Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, January 5, 1863

Yesterday being Sunday, and no enemy appearing, we had a day of comparative rest. In the morning we were marched into town for fear the Yankees might return and attempt to land under cover of their gunboats, but five minutes after our arrival we were about-faced and moved back to camps. The day was spent in drying clothes, cleaning guns, and setting tents. The cooking is an easy job with us here, as our ration consists only of musty meal and poor, tough beef. I obtained permission this morning to go to town, and while there learned that the regiment was coming in to take a boat for Port Hudson. I write this entry on the top of the wheel-house of the "Charm," waiting for her to start.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 18

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Tuesday, April 19, 1864*

Everything seems monotonous in camp this morning; nothing but the regular routine of camp and patrol duty greet us. All quiet this evening. Nature smiling, a warm sun, a soft south wind, makes us almost feel that we are not engaged in the puny strifes of war. Oh! for something to dispel the dull care; if it be rebels with bristling bayonets. Hark! we hear a voice tuned by a musical soul. Miss P— seems defiant, singing her Southern collections, “God save the South," "Southern Red, White and Blue." We are inclined to admire her bold spirit, though the heart is with a desperate cause. Hearing this voice, we wonder if she, from whom it comes, would play for the “vandals.” We will try her to-morrow.

_______________

* I believe this entry was misdated as April 10 in the published version of the diary. April 10, 1864 fell on a Sunday, while April 19, 1864 falls on Tuesday. Also this entry as published comes after Monday, April 18 and Wednesday, April 20.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 233

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: April 25, 1864*

Up to this date nothing of interest occurs; nothing but a dull monotony seems to reign in camp. The weather is warm; nature clothed in its heavenly beauty; the feathery tribe chattering songs of praise to their creator.

We look out upon these fields and are made to ask ourselves the question: “Why the tramp of warriors here?” Something seems to answer, "Because wicked men were lured by an ambition to ride to power upon the crimson tide of blood.”

_______________

* I believe this entry was misdated as April 15 in the published version of the diary. This entry was published between Wednesday, April 20 and April 26.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 234

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: March 20, 1864

Since our return from the Northland, a dull monotony reigns in camp; nothing greets our ears but an occasional braying of some hungry mule and the rumbling of the waters over the mill-dam in Richland creek. All seems quiet with the military. We wonder if there will be any more blood made to flow in the Southland. There may be and there may not; God only knows. We would love to believe that ere long there shall be consummated an uncompromising peace, with the Union triumphant and traitors in the dust. Though things in and around camp are dull, the boys are cheerful and happy.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 228

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, February 8, 1864

Camp near Orange Court House, Va.,

February 8, 1864.

The Yankees advanced to the Rapidan River yesterday and we were ordered off to met them. After some little fighting, they retired. It was evidently nothing more than a reconnoitering party of cavalry. To-day everything is quiet.

Billie and I are enjoying our box immensely— especially the sauer-kraut. Edwin was over again yesterday. He has been over three times this week. I am just as comfortable in every respect as I could possibly wish to be. The health and spirits of everybody seem to be excellent.

I had my hair cut to-day and I feel quite cool about the head. I am sending you the soldier's paper which I take, and you will find it interesting. We have such a dearth of news that I do not know of one thing worth relating.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 89-90

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: January 7, 1864

The weather still the same-cold and windy. The camp of the Seventh is indeed a place of suffering, but men of steel stand here, and despite the warring elements they manage to keep cheerful. Another long week of anxious waiting for the mustering officers has passed away. At last he comes. How welcome is his presence. This evening though they have long been veterans in practice, the Seventh is denominated by name the Seventh Illinois Veteran Volunteer Infantry. Thus ends our second enlistment, and commences our veteran organization.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 218

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Friday, December 4, 1863

All still to-day; a dull monotony in camp. The Seventh are now making shelter out of rails and their oil cloths, and what few boards they can gather up; no tents; on duty every day, scouting and running everywhere. This evening a call is made upon the different companies for twenty volunteers to carry dispatches one hundred miles across the country to Eastport, Tennessee River. To be relieved from the camp's dull life, we conclude to be one of the number. The remaining nineteen soon report. About nine o'clock p, M., we leave Pulaski under the command of Lieutenant Roberts, of Company C. We travel until four o'clock in the morning, when we halt at a plantation, feed and get our breakfast, prepared by the negroes. At daylight we move on, pass through Waynesboro, and go as far as Pin Hook, where we go into camp for the night.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 212

Dr. Seth Rogers to his daughter Dolly, February 7, 1863

February 7, 1863.

Emerson and Thoreau are oftener in my mind, in connection with this camp life and these people, than any other writers I know. While I am constantly studying how to keep these men well, or to alleviate their sufferings, they as constantly fill me with something higher than a feeling of philanthropy, a sort of oriental sympathy, outreaching the wants of the body. Gen. Saxton has said that these people are "intensely human," and I will add that I find them intensely divine. It is, however, more difficult to call out the divine than the human. The blessings resulting from freedom will wash away the accursed stains of slavery and all the world will see that these are also children of God. They have a boundless conception of the divine spirit and an intense trust in the fatherhood of God. . . . It is true, they will commit almost as many sins as their white neighbors, but I am speaking now of the religious element and leaving the moral to be controlled by culture. . .

Keeping our men below so long on the John Adams destroyed more lives than the rifle shots would have done. It seemed a choice of evils and the least apparent was chosen. But the return of sunshine will help restore the sick.

SOURCE: Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Volume 43, October, 1909—June, 1910: February 1910. p. 358