Showing posts with label Carbines. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Carbines. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 11, 2017

Diary of Sergeant Major Luman Harris Tenney: June 6, 1863

After breakfast and morning work issued rations — beef —  at daylight. Felt rather tired after the work. Cleaned a carbine I had used for some time. Rather hard job. Another dry sultry day. Thede feels under the weather. Both have the diarrhoea. Boys went for strawberries, but could not get any. Paymaster here.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 72

Tuesday, June 20, 2017

1st Lieutenant Charles Wright Wills: March 24, 1862

Point Pleasant, Mo., March 24, 1862.

It's only 9 a. m., and didn’t get to bed until 2 this morning, so if I do not talk rational you will excuse me. That isn't the excuse either. I rode 50 miles between 9 a. m. yesterday and midnight over roughest road. Two hundred of us were sent out after that d----d Jeff Thompson. We exchanged shots with his pickets 20 miles from here, and chased them four miles farther. The last eight miles was a pike only eight feet wide, thrown up through an immense swamp, and planked. The water came so close to the planks that there was not-a place in-the whole eight miles where a horse dare step off the plank. The total of all the unusual sights I ever saw wouldn't begin to count one in effect where that road and swamp will ten. There are two good sized rivers running through the swamp but they have to be pointed out to you before you can see them, or rather distinguish them from the rest of the swamp. .When we first saw these pickets they were tearing up a culvert. We hurried up and after each side fired four or five rounds they ran. No one hurt here, although the distance was not more than 60 yards. Andy Hulit, my sergeant major and myself were the advance guard, but I have no carbine, and did not get to shoot, but this didn't seem to make any difference to them for they threw buckshot round me quite promiscuously. Well, we fixed up that bridge and pressed on, but they tore down so many bridges that we could go but slowly. Just before the fight I had dropped back a dozen files to get out of building any more bridges, and when our boys saw the secesh, they had just finished destroying another. The horses couldn't cross it, but the boys dismounted and hurrying across on foot, made them take to the swamp in water waist deep, where they hid themselves behind logs, vines and a kind of high grass that grows in bunches as large as a currant bush. When they had concealed themselves to their notion, they commenced firing at us, and of the first four of our boys over the bridge (Andy Hulit led them), three were down, wounded in a minute. We then charged (on foot) right into the brush and water, some of the boys up to their armpits, and made them scoot. They did not number over 20 but their advantage was enormous. We dropped two of them certain, and — I don't think any more. Of four of our men they wounded, three were Company L boys. The two Cockerel brothers, Mathew and Royal, and Eugene Greenslit. The other was from Company A. The Company A boy and Mat Cockerel died before we got them to camp. Royal has a flesh wound in the arm, and Greenslit is shot in the foot, both slight wounds. We drove the Rebels clear off, and captured two horses, and all their blankets, overcoats etc. About 15 miles out we came to Little River. While the major was examining the bridge, we saw a half dozen men running through a swamp on the other side. Over the bridge we went, and into the mud and water after them. We got them all. I captured a couple in a thicket. Andy Hulit came up a few minutes after and we had work to keep a lot of boys from shooting them, while we were taking them back to the river. Well, that was a pretty rough trip and I don't hanker after another like it, although the excitement is rather pleasant too. But being set up for a mark on a road where there is not a sign of a chance to dodge, and having the marksman completely concealed from you, and this other fix of letting them throw shells at you when your carbine won't carry to them, sitting on horseback too, I wish it understood I'm opposed to and protest against, although I never think so until I get back to camp. I don't think that I ever get a bit excited over firing, but I know that I don't look at danger the same when under fire that I do when in quarters. We are all well and I'm getting fat every day. It bores considerably here to think that that one horse Island No. 10 won't come down and surrender like a “gem'men.” Some of the officers here think that we'd better be getting out “o’ this,” but I propose to let Pope work out the salvation of this division. We started from Commerce in General Hamilton's division, were put in General Granger's at Madrid, and are now in General Plummer's. Well, I'm going to do a little sleeping.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 71-3

Sunday, March 26, 2017

John Brown to Franklin B. Sanborn, October 1, 1857

Tabor, Fremont County, Iowa, Oct. I, 1857.
F. B. Sanborn, Concord, Mass.

My Dear Sir, — Two days since I received your very kind letter of the 14th September; also one from James Hunnewell, Esq., saying he had sent me $72.68 through P. T. Jackson, Esq., of Boston; for both which I am very glad.1 I cannot express my gratitude for your earnest and early attention to my wants and those of my family. I regret that Mr. Hunnewell did not at once send me either a check or a draft on New York or Boston, as it will probably be one month or more before I can realize it; and I have not the means of paying my board bill here, not having as yet received anything from Mr. Whitman toward a balance of five hundred dollars, nor heard from him. If I get the money from Mr. Hunnewell and Mr. Whitman, it will answer my present wants, except the secret service I wrote you about. I have all the aims I am likely to need, but am destitute of saddle-bags or knapsacks, holsters and belts; have only a few blankets, no shovels or spades, no mattocks, but three or four adzes (ought to have been one hundred), and am nearly destitute of cooking utensils. The greater part of what I have just named I must do without till another spring, at any rate. I found here one brass field-piece complete, and one damaged gun-carriage, with some ammunition suitable for it; some seventy to seventy-five old damaged United States rifles and muskets, one dozen old sabres, some powder and lead (enough for present use; weight not known), — I suppose sent by National Committee. Also one dozen boxes and barrels of clothing, boots, etc., with three hand gristmills, sent to Nebraska City, from same source. I also got from Dr. Jesse Bowen, of Iowa City, one old wagon, which broke down with a light load on the way; also nine full-rigged tents, three sets tent-poles (additional), eleven pairs blankets, and three axes, sent there by National Committee. Also from Mr. Hurd I got an order for fifty dollars' worth of tents, wagon-covering, ropes, etc., at Chicago, which was paid me. I find one hundred and ninety-four carbines, about thirty-three hundred ball cartridges, all the primers, but no iron ladles. This, I believe, with the teams and wagon I purchased, will give you a pretty good idea of the stuff I have. I had a gun and pair of pistols given me by Dr. Howe, and some three or four guns made for experiment by Mr. Thayer (a little cannon and carriage is one of them), and one nice rifle by the manufacturing company at Worcester.2 I had also a few revolvers, common guns, and sabres left on hand, that I took on with me in 1855. While waiting here I and my son have been trying to learn a little of the arts of peace from Colonel F., who is still with us. That is the school I alluded to.

Before I reached here, I had written particularly to friends in Kansas, saying that I wanted help to meet me here, and to wait for me should I be detained on the way. I also arranged with Mr. Whitman in regard to it in Chicago. He sent one man with one hundred and fifty dollars; forty of it he kept, and went immediately back. From that time I send you copies of some of the correspondence between Kansas and me, as rather essential to give you a correct idea of things in connection with my statements yet to be made. When I got on here I immediately wrote Mr. Whitman and several others what was my situation and wants. He (Mr. Whitman) has not written me at all since what 1 send. Others have written, as you will see. I wrote the man Mr. Whitman sent me, among the rest, but get no word from him since what I now send.

As to the policy of voting on Monday next, I think Lane hit his mark at the convention of Grasshopper's, if never before; I mean “An escape into the filthy sluice of a prison.” I had not been able to learn by papers or otherwise distinctly what course had been taken in Kansas till within a few days; and probably the less I have to say, the better.

I omitted above to say that I paid out five hundred and fifty dollars on a contract for one thousand superior pikes, as a cheap but effectual weapon to place in the hands of entirely unskilful and unpractised men, which will not easily get out of order, and require no ammunition. They will cost, handles and all complete, a little short of one dollar each. That contract I have not been able to fulfil; and wise military men may ridicule the idea; but “I take the whole responsibility of that job,” — so that I can only get them.

On hearing that Lane had come into Nebraska, I at once sent a young man with a line, saying I had been hurt, and was exceedingly anxious to see him early in September. To this he sent me no reply, unless Redpath's letter be one. I am now so far recovered from my hurt as to be able to do a little; and foggy as it is, “we do not give up the ship.” I will not say that Kansas, watered by the tears and blood of my children, shall yet be free or I fall. I intend at once to put the supplies I have in a secure place, and then to put myself and such as may go with me where we may get more speedy communications, and can wait until we know better how to act than we now do. 1 send this whole package to you, thinking Concord a less offensive name just now than Boston at this end of the route. I wish the whole conveyed to my friend Stearns and other friends, as old Brown's last report.

Until further advised, I wish all communications addressed to Jonas Jones, Esq., Tabor, Fremont County, Iowa, outwardly; and I hope you will all write often.

I had forgotten to say, that day before yesterday one single man, with no team at all, came from Lane to have me start at once for Kansas, as you will see by copies. Ho said he had left ten fine fellows about thirty miles back. The names he gave me were all strange to me, as well as himself. Tabor folks (some of them) speak slightingly of him, notwithstanding that he too is a general.
_______________

1 This note explains the source and object of this seasonable contribution.

2 These are the arms mentioned in Eli Thayer's letters.

SOURCE: Franklin B. Sanborn, The Life and Letters of John Brown, p. 398-401

Saturday, February 25, 2017

Diary of Sergeant Major Luman Harris Tenney, Sunday, December 7, 1862

Up and off as early as usual. I carried a carbine and rode as usual in the ranks. Saw a large flock of wild turkeys. Advance ran after three “butternuts.” Took two horses. Saw any number of rebels around Diamond Grove. Encamped four miles west of Sherwood.

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

Monday, January 16, 2017

Diary of Luman Harris Tenney: Saturday, November 8, 1862

Still southwest to Rhea's Mills ten miles and then breakfast — fresh beef and no salt. Col. Philips here two nights before, two of his Indians shot. Two girls wounded severely by rebels firing into a house. After breakfast went to my own men with Capt. Gave Capt. Lucas detachment —the advance. Direction southeast. Rode 7 or 8 miles to Cane Hill — Boonsboro — hilly country. Pickets fired upon at Cane Hill. Captured a secesh saddle and equipments. Went into town. Col. made inquiries and moved on. Col. always with the advance. Went a couple of miles and bang, bang, went guns. Soon 60 or 70 men showed themselves in the woods on a hill half a mile to our left. Sharp's rifles and carbines came into play — no effect — distance too great. Howitzers came up, cavalry fell back into the woods and shell went whizzing over the cornfield. They skedaddled. One fellow whom 8 or 10 men started for, ran forward and threw down the fence and then ran back behind a tree. Blue overcoat. Did not take him. Bold fellow. They took two or three prisoners. After some delay, Col. learned that the rebels, 400 or 500, were one mile farther on. Went on a mile, saw pickets on a distant hill. Sharpshooters advanced, and then command moved forward. Found camp just vacated — fires still burning. Went over the Boston mountains. Over the mountains at the foot, our extreme advance came in sight of rear guard of the enemy. A charge was ordered and away we flew with loose reins and set spurs, up hill and down hill, across and back again Cove Creek, a very rough road. After three miles we began to see stirrups, blankets, corn and a thousand things strewn along the road. The Col. was up with us. He commenced yelling, which was kept up by all the men. More things scattered along. After ten miles in the midst of excitement, back came a volley of shot and bullets from the bush at a point a little elevated just ahead of us. The extreme advance fell back a few rods. Up we rode upon a charge into the bush as we were ordered. We rode up and fired away. Still farther up into the road we were ordered. We hurried up and formed along the road facing the bush. The bullets whistled merrily for a season. Not over 20 or 25 were up. We fired all our rounds, then a sabre charge was ordered. We had our sabres drawn and ready for a charge, when Capt. Lucas' horse was shot and the rebels were running by a byroad. The color-bearer was shot through the head and colors captured, 13 stars — two others were reported killed. Waited for signs of the enemy, but in vain. Went down and helped about unloading wagons and burned them. None of us harmed. Started back. Returned 4 or 5 miles and camped. All the boys got some little trap — baggage and equipments of Mo. Provost Guard commanded by Provost Gen. McDonald. Private correspondence of Col. Sevier of Marseilles, Mo. One excellent letter from his Aunt Phil on the war.

SOURCE: Frances Andrews Tenney, War Diary Of Luman Harris Tenney, p. 42-3