Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: October 6, 1864

The morning of the sixth dawns beautifully, but upon a field of death-a field of blood; but thanks be to God, it dawns with the old flag triumphant. We will again walk among the dead and wounded. The loss of the Seventh has been fearful. At Fort Donelson, Shiloh and Corinth our loss was heavy, but our loss in this battle exceeds our whole loss in those three great battles. The following list of the Seventh's casualties in this battle will speak for itself; will alone tell how fierce was the storm of battle that raged on these hills.

STAFF. Wounded: Colonel R. Rowett, in the head, severely; Adjutant J. S. Robinson, severely.

COMPANY A.—Killed: Corporal Henry C. Hasson. Wounded: Sergeant James O'Donnell.

COMPANY B.—Killed: Privates Philip Saules, Jonathan Bishop; Wounded: private John Hunter.

COMPANY C—Killed: Privates Andrew Hellgoth, John McAlpine; Corporal John B. Hubreht.

COMPANY D.—Company D was left at Rome on guard duty, therefore was not with the regiment at the Allatoona Pass.

COMPANY E.—Killed: Privates James F. Burk, George W. Eversole, Michael F. Galbraith, Marion R. Kampf, Francis Love, David Roberts, Lewis C. Stroud, Calvin A. Summers, John W. Watt, W. H. Burwell, Lewis J. Allman, Levi Allen, Ezra M. Miller, Elias Hainline, Leonidas Burkholder, Corporal William Smith. Wounded: Sergeant and Color Bearer Joseph Bordwell; Privates L. D. Barnes, George G. Brooks, Lewis A. Burk, Abner W. Burwell, Samuel H. Ewing, Angelo V. Faucett, Albert Gardner, Phillip J. Gossard, John F. Hainline, James A. Hedges, George Sullivan, Edwin R. Jones, Thomas Gardner, A. N. Roelofson, James M. Allman, John L. Forbes, Joseph Lancaster, Eli Mushrush, Samuel M. Watt. Corporal Henry C. Montjoy; Taken Prisoner: N. A. Bovee, Samuel H. Jones, William E. Verry, William H. Miller.

COMPANY F. —Killed: Privates Philip Hale, John Phillips, Henry M. Robbins, Eldridge Walton, Nathan D. Atchison. Wounded: Privates James Kelley, Robert B. Kelley, George Brenton; Sergeant John McTurk.

COMPANY G.—No separate record given—consolidated with Company I.

COMPAMY H.—Killed: Corporal Samuel Walker; Privates Henry Bigler, John Etterlain, William T. Taylor, John White, Timothy Hoblitt, James L. Parish. Wounded: Sergeant William P. Hackney, severely; Edward C. Nicholas, severely; Privates Oscar J. Hackney, slightly; John E. J. Wood, severely; Richard P. Graham, severely; James M. Halbert, slightly; Aaron Watkins, slightly; Ferdinand Capps, severely. Taken Prisoner: Thomas Caylor, William R. Skiver, George W. Ballard.

COMPANY I.—Killed: First Lieutenant John E. Sullivan, Sergeant Charles Myres, Corporal William Ecker, Privates John W. Johnson, Ira Carey. Wounded: Privates Daniel O'Keefe, Alfred Scott, James Andrews, George Harris, William Massey.

COMPANY K.—Killed: Privates E. Thompson, Martin V. Kelton, Jesse C. Botkins. Wounded: Corporals John W. Bowman, Walter Smith; Privates Grundy McClure, Thesbold Steinberg, Lewis P. Moore, Albert H. Duff, John P. Van Dyke, Julius Wolf. Total killed, 42, total wounded, 53.

Though the Union loss is heavy, though Illinois, Iowa and Minnesota, offered a fearful sacrifice; we behold in looking around us a great many more of the traitors weltering in their gore. Six hundred rebels poured out their life blood—poured it out upon these hills for naught-six hundred lie still in death, and as many more are wounded. Ah! what an ill-fated field Allatoona has been to them. "They came for bread; Corse gave them war and lead." Their wounded tell us they never fought such men. Says a rebel officer, "I believe those Illinois and Iowa boys who were in yonder fort (pointing to the fort General Corse, Colonel Rowett and his Third Brigade occupied,) would have all died before they would have surrendered." All day the 6th we are engaged caring for the wounded and burying the dead. On the hill the Seventh bury their fellow-heroes. The regiment is now small, the survivors look sorrowful; now and then we see tears steal down the bronzed cheeks to fall and perish upon the lonely graves. Praises for Colonel Rowett are on every tongue. Allatoona tells us that no braver warrior ever drew a sword in battle. In the thickest of the conflict he was ever found, cheering his men when disaster threatened, leading amid dire confusion. In Allatoona's great battle he stood by the flag, and around him and it his men rallied; rallied to fall and die; rallied to see it victorious. But how sad were his men when they saw him fall; when they saw him bleeding; when they saw him fainting from loss of blood. But remembering his words of cheer; remembering his command to die rather than let the flag be lowered; his men struggled on and proved themselves true to their Colonel and their flag, and the sun went down with the fifteen-hundred triumphant, and that evening the Union's proud banner looked more beautiful than it had ever before looked—more beautiful because it stood upon another victorious field.

Lieutenant John E. Sullivan, of Company I, fell fighting like a Spartan. Heroically he braved the frightful tempest and went down crowned all over with laurels of glory. He fell mortally wounded in the early part of the day, and died .about ten o'clock the next morning. We were called to his side as his last moments of life were drawing nigh. Says he, "Give my sword to the gallant William Hackney of Company H," (which company he commanded until he fell.) "Brave men, I will soon leave you,—will soon pass the river of death." We stood by his side again, but his spirit had departed, and the noble warrior was free from the angry strife of men.

Lieutenant John S. Robinson, A. A. A. G. on Colonel Rowett's staff, was severely wounded during the last charge of the rebels, and no one performed his part more gallantly in this great battle than did this officer. Where the battle raged fiercest there he was ever found. He was standing by the side of Colonel Rowett, struggling against the wild tide of battle as but few men have ever struggled in this terrible war, until the scales began to show signs favorable to the fifteen-hundred, when he was stricken down, (which was but a short time before the battle closed.) He is dangerously wounded and we fear his days will soon be numbered. Courageous soldier! we can only say of him he was true; that he did his duty, and did it well.

Colonel Hanna, the dashing commander of the Fifteenth Illinois, was among the most conspicuous in this battle. With his impetuous and irresistible regiment he stood as firm as a gigantic rock, and against his front of bristling steel French's hungry rebels hurled themselves, but in vain did they attempt to crush the gallant "half-hundred," for when the fearless Hanna threw himself into the most dangerous ordeal, making his clarion voice heard above the loud din of battle, the eyes of his brave men grew brighter and each heart was kindled with the fire that ever warms the patriot's heart. We remember when the very air was red with flame, when the earth was strewn with the mangled dead, when the sun seemed to be hid behind an awful sheet of fire; how anxiously we watched Colonel Hanna moving with his regiment from beyond the railroad to the support of Colonel Rowett. Oh! that was a trying hour; the leaden hail flew thick and fast; it was a march of death, for ere they reached Colonel Rowett's fort many of their number had fallen. But how glad were the men of the Seventh Illinois when that grand old regiment rushed into the fort and waved over the ramparts their shattered battle flag. It was a glorious hour, glorious because we felt encouraged and strengthened. We will never forget that period in the battle; will never forget Colonel Hanna and his noble men who made that memorable charge across the railroad and cut their way through to Colonel Rowett's fort, a work which for fierceness has, we believe, never been surpassed in this war.

Captain Rattrey of the Fifty-seventh, aid to Col. Rowett, excited the admiration of every one for his bravery, accompanied with so much coolness and judgment. He was found constantly by Colonel Rowett's side, executing his orders with a promptness that was indeed remarkable. When the crushing tide of battle bore down Colonel Rowett, Captain Rattrey could not find a field officer in the brigade to report to; every one down to his rank having fallen as victims—either dead or wounded. The gallant defenders of the Pass who had been struggling through long weary hours, were now making their last desperate struggle, and signs were appearing that seemed to tell of a turning point in the battle, seemed to tell that the boys in blue were about to gain the mastery, were about to hurl back from the pass Hood's insane legions. There was no time to lose, and Captain Rattrey fearing that the men who had fought so long, and so well, who had seen so many of their comrades fall and die, would soon become exhausted, leaped like a giant from where lay the bleeding and seemingly lifeless Rowett, and with the robust courage of an angel in his soul assumed command of the gallant old Third Brigade and conducted the battle to its glorious consummation. There seemed to be no post of danger that Captain Rattrey did not wish to occupy.

In looking around us we miss many noble men who are now sleeping in death's cold embrace, Liberty in its great trial claimed them as sacrifices on its altar; but not for naught, as history will declare when this generation shall have long passed away. Private soldiers though they were, they performed their part, and hence are as worthy the country's gratitude as those in higher positions, who offered up their lives in this battle.

We cannot pass without alluding to the gallantry of Corporal Samuel Walker of Company H. He was standing with Colonel Rowett, and while fighting bravely in one of the desperate rebel charges the flag comes falling down over his head, and ere it reaches the blood stained earth, Corporal Walker is seen to grasp its shot-riven staff, and with its silken shreds falling around him, he mounted the works and there in one of the wildest battle storms that ever left blood in its wake, he waved it defiantly in the face of arch-treason,—waved it until a minie went crashing through his brain,—waved it until he fell, and there in blood under that grand old flag, the pride of his heart, the glory of his manhood, he died—died for the flag, died for his country, died for liberty. Glorious spirit! may his name ever shine bright in the book of perpetual remembrance as one of the boldest who helped to defend this second Thermopylae!

But all were brave, and like the legions of Bruce and the lovers of Sparta, they struggled against an adverse tide; for four fearful hours they held it in check; at last they turned it, and above streams of blood, the groans of the dying and the shouts of victors, light from the Union's proud banner seemed to flash against the sky. How proud were the Illinois and Iowa boys when the noble Corse, wounded and bleeding, said there was not a coward in the great battle of the Allatoona Pass; and prouder still were the men of the Seventh, when he said, "Colonel, your regiment sustained the heaviest loss; I will give it the post of honor." Before leaving the battle-field, Sergeant Major S. F. Flint writes:

Winds that sweep the southern mountain,

And the leafy river shore,

Bear ye not a prouder burden

Than ye ever learned before?

And the hot blood fills

The heart till it thrills,

At the story of the terror and the glory of the battle

Of the Allatoona hills.

Echo from the purple mountains,

To the dull surrounding shore;

'Tis as sad and proud a burden,

As ye ever learned before.

How they fell like grass

When the mowers pass,

And the dying, when the foe was flying, swelled the cheering

Of the heroes of the pass.

Sweep it o'er the hills of Georgia

To the mountains of the north;

Teach the coward and the doubter,

What the blood of man is worth.

Toss the flag as you pass,

Let their stained and tattered mass

Tell the story of the terror and the glory of the battle

Of the Allatoona Pass.

After burying the dead and caring for the wounded, which are placed on the cars to be sent to Rome, we return to our old camp on the Etawah. At no time during the war have we seen so much of sadness depicted upon the faces of the men as we have seen since our return to Rome. The men stand around in the camp lonely and silent, without a word to say to each other. There is indeed sorrow in the Seventh; sorrow for their brave comrades whom they left wrapped in death's pale sheet on the Allatoona hills. The Seventh felt sad when they stood on Shiloh's field and gazed upon their dead and wounded companions; their hearts were moved when they saw so many of their number who had perished on Corinth's plain, but the blood that flowed from the heroes of the Allatoona Pass has completely unnerved these strong men; and will our readers call it weakness when we tell them that after that work of blood at the Pass, while standing around the camp fires near the banks of the Etawah, we saw stalwart soldiers weep; saw tears sparkle in their eyes for those brave boys who had surrendered their lives in the great war for human liberty?

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 261-70

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: October 8, 1864

This morning we learn that Rome is in danger of an attack from Hood's northward bound column. We are early ordered into line, and soon we move out from our camp near the Etawah river. We do not march far until our advance is checked, when a brisk skirmish commences. All day we keep up a running fire with a considerable force of rebels with artillery, supposed to be a brigade sent out by Hood to reconnoiter. In the evening we return to camp with the loss of one man from Company F—private Hugh H. Porter, mortally wounded. And so another good soldier has fallen; another name to be added to the Union's roll of honor; a name with the prefix of private, but none the less worthy. As we look over the Seventh's mortality list, we see the name of none who was truer and more valiant than Hugh H. Porter, of gallant old Company F.

Since our return from the Allatoona Pass, one of the Seventh's drummer boys has died; little Willie White, of Company H. His brother John fell a victim at Allatoona. Willie was left at Rome; he did not accompany the regiment, but when he heard of his brother's death, it weighed so heavily upon him as to prostrate him upon a bed of sickness, and soon he passed away—dies from grief, uttering as his last words: "Oh! what will mother do now?" We buried him in the soldiers' cemetery near the Etawah River, and a little white board marks the lonely spot where the Seventh's drummer boy sleeps. General Hood, with his half starved army, has crossed the Coosa River, moving northward, making but a slight feint on Rome. Sherman's army is now swarming in and around Rome. Hood is far to the northward, and all is quiet on the Etawah and Coosa Rivers. It is evident that Sherman is contemplating a movement that will shake the Confederacy and startle the world. The military are all active. Last night we chanced to be in Rome at the midnight hour. Who is that stately personage pacing to and fro in front of yonder tent? The guard tells us that it is Major General Sherman. He is in his night dress. Hood was then crossing the Tennessee. We know that some gigantic scheme is revolving in that master mind; a scheme the grandest and the boldest that ever flashed upon the world's greatest military minds, as the sequel will show when the future's sealed scroll shall have been unfolded a little way.

The wounded have all been sent northward. Noble company! May they soon recover and return to us again, for the regiment seems crippled without them. Ere we leave Rome we learn of the death of First Lieutenant and Adjutant J. S. Robinson and Sergeant Edward C. Nichols, of Company H—died from wounds received in the battle at Allatoona. Thus two more gallant soldiers have passed away. Long and patiently they endured their suffering, but at last the brittle thread of life broke, and these soldiers are now at rest. The indications as present are that we will soon leave Rome; how soon, we know not. The soldiers are conjecturing, but all is wrapped in mystery since Sherman has left Hood free to operate against Nashville. But for the present we are compelled to let the curtain hang; by and by it will be swung back; until that time we will wait.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 270-2

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Saturday, October 4, 1862

At two o'clock this morning the Second Division is huddled promiscuously around the headquarters of General Rosecrans, on the north side of Corinth. About three o'clock, a sheet of fire is seen to burst from a rebel battery planted during the night in the woods near the Purdy road; all morning it continues to send forth its glaring light; the air is full of bursting shell; the heavens seem all ablaze; the stars for a moment seem eclipsed. The light from the morning king is now flashing against the bayonets of the two hostile armies. Smoke and, wrathful messengers still continue to leap from the woods where the rebel monster frowns, and as its storm comes sweeping on its track, death follows in its wake, for some brave men are seen to fall, breathe quickly, and die. Our big guns at batteries Williams and Robinet now open upon this rebel battery with a roar that is hideous; sending echoes across the fields and through the surrounding woods that sound unearthly. This battery is soon disabled, and rebel heels are seen to fly heavenward, thus putting a stop to its deadly sweeps.

About eight o'clock the regiment is moved forward and placed in a position behind some temporary works constructed during the night. The position of the Second Division resembles an ox yoke, minus the bows; the First Brigade and Powell's battery forming the right curve, with the bulge facing the enemy north and northwest; the Second Brigade forming the center, facing northwest, and the Third Brigade forming the left curve, facing north and west. The position of the Third Brigade, commanded by Colonel Dubois, U. S. A., is as follows: The Seventh Illinois on the right with its right resting on the Purdy road, and in their order the Fiftieth and Fifty-seventh Illinois. Soon after taking our position in the great yoke of bayonets, Colonel Babcock is ordered to move forward, deploy his regiment and support Berge's sharp-shooters. We soon discovered the enemy crossing the railroad in large force. Upon making the discovery we are ordered to return to our position in the "yoke.” The enemy is now evidently making preparations to take Corinth, if possible, at the point of the bayonet.

While there is a lull in consequence of these preparations, we will review the situation. Here, marshaled upon Corinth's fields, can be seen thousands of determined warriors supporting their bristling steel, waiting to engage in the work of blood. There is silence along the Seventh's line, and we all feel that it will prove to be a line of stout hearts. The gallant Colonel Babcock and Lieutenant Colonel Rowett are at their posts. The commanders of companies, Captains Lawyer, Hunter, Johnson, Knowlton, McGuire, Perrin, Clark, and Lieutenants Estabrook, Pegram, Smith, Sullivan, Sweeny, Raymond, Ahern, Atchison and Gillson are resting upon their drawn swords. They will soon wield them and we know that they will be wielded so as to reflect glory and honor upon those who swing them. The story of the terrible days of the past assure us as much. The sun is now far up in the sky, but it is evident that ere it sinks to rest many a noble soldier will have laid himself down for a quiet, eternal sleep. We look across the fields; the ghastly stars and bars are seen peering from the woods; the drunken Arkansas legions under the command of General Caball are surging towards the Third Brigade's front, four regiments deep in columns of attack. The redoubt on the right is now taken; the right is giving way in confusion; there is a gap in the line to our right on the Purdy road; the attack on the left being slight, the Fifty-seventh is removed therefrom and thrown into this breach. At this period a battery in our rear on an elevation overlooking Corinth opens upon General Caball's charging column. The shot from this battery falling short, Sergeant Wheeler, of Company H of the Seventh, is thereby killed. The battle now rages furiously; many noble men are falling victims; streams of blood are flowing; the death archer is at work. The charging column is overwhelming; the Seventh is now driven from the temporary works; the yoke is broken; the regiment is retreating slowly; they are contesting manfully every inch of the ground. Falling back a short distance, Colonel Babcock and Lieutenant Colonel Rowett, with the ready assistance of the officers of the line, succeed in rallying the regiment, forming a line at a small house on the out-skirts of Corinth, where the Seventh stands like a pillar of fire. Volley after volley they are now sending into the Arkansas hosts. They seem determined though they die to keep the old flag in the wind. On, the storm king of battle rides. Reckless shot and shell are making deep furrows in the earth. The air is full of whistling minies; things look fearful. We stand amid the dead and dying. Smoke from iron mouths rolls everywhere; everything seems to be wrapped in flames. How can our thinned and almost famished Seventh stem this mad storm! For a few moments, the regiment's determined front staggers the enemy and throws them into confusion, but they have re-formed, and are now coming across the open field in terrible array. The regiment that has thus far stood up so manfully is now made to waver-the flag is seen to tremble. At this trying moment an aid comes dashing down the line (we believe it was Capt. Lovel) crying out, "Oh, noble Seventh! noble Seventh! stand the storm, it won't last long!” The battery on the hill in the rear still continues its firing. The Seventh being unable to stand against the overwhelming and sweeping rebel force, and being exposed to the fierce storms of this (our own) battery on the hill, again falls back and forms out of the line of its fire. In this retreat the gallant and brave Lieutenant Estabrook of Company E was killed. The battle all along the entire line is now raging desperately. The earth is trembling around Fort Robinet, wrathful thunder is rolling from her brazen guns. The battle smoke seems to roll against the sky. General Rogers and his Texan legions have thrown themselves into the ordeal there, but like grass before the mower's scythe his mad rangers are falling victims to a wicked ambition. We now turn our eyes, casting them along the Second Division's crippled line. They are fighting desperately against fearful odds, hotly contesting every inch of ground on the streets of Corinth. The regiments are broken up in small squads, commanded by Lieutenants and Sergeants. Colonel Babcock and Lieutenant Colonel Rowett, with a part of the regiment are now standing heroically with their trembling flag; the remaining part of the Regiment being disconnected from the colors, is engaged in heated contest on other parts of the field. Confusion reigns; darkness seems to be throwing her sable wings around the struggling Second Division. The main drift of the battle has been against them. General Davies, with the gallant Captains Lovel and Hanna, Colonel Dubois, Colonel Babcock, Lieutenant Colonel Rowett, and the brave officers of the line, have been laboring hard to check the adverse tide.

The sun is now passing down towards the western horizon. Will the battle be lost? will this brave army be crushed? will the flag be lowered? will the loyal people be compelled to bow their heads and drop tears over another ill-fated field ? No! Such a story shall not go to the hearts of the loyal people. We look away; we behold the right wing swinging around, hurling volley after volley into the flanks of the enemy. There is a reaction now; the Second Division rallies again, and led by General Davies, fights with renewed vigor. The rebel lines are seen to waver; our big guns are now mowing them down by hundreds. Seeing this wavering of the rebels, the men are encouraged. Colonel Babcock, with the Seventh, moves firmly and with power. The Fiftieth are making a glorious charge; a smile of triumph seems to be playing on every face. The enemy are being driven; foot by foot they are falling back from Corinth's field. The Union's proud banner is again advancing; loud shouts from our lines are making a din in the air. The dying heroes, as they pass away, leave ringing in our ears, “Follow the flag!” “Keep it up!” “Dont let it fall!”. Oh! what hearts! what glory! what manhood! A rebel retreat is ordered. The shouts of victory make the welkin ring. The old Seventh's flag in its shreds and ribbons seems to shed a halo of glory around its exultant and happy defenders.

Sergeant Newell and Corporal Bordwell, color bearers, deserve honorable mention for their gallantry in carrying our flag through this terrible battle. No braver soldiers ever moved on a battle-field. No one ever looked to the rear to see the Seventh's colors; but on the front line in the fiercest of the battle, their noble bearers were ever seen standing with them. They unfurled them in the battle wind and never let them go down. They seemed to be the pride of their hearts, and their faces looked sad when the fortunes of battle compelled them to carry them back. In the wide universe there is nothing so beautiful to behold as a brave man fighting for his country's flag; nothing more beautiful than to see fearless spirits like Sergeant Newell and Corporal Bordwell, bearing the proud banner of freedom through smoke and flame.

Night has now come, and the worn and almost exhausted Seventh lie down upon the blood-stained field to obtain some rest. Though we are all weary and tired, we feel glad in our hearts that the old flag has been honored to-day, and while we thus feel happy we feel sad when we look around us and see. that comrades and officers who were with us yesterday morning and this morning are with us no more. The following is the Seventh's casualties in the two days’ battle:

STAFF.—First Lieutenant William Brown, Quartermaster, mortally wounded; T. N. Francis, Adjutant, wounded in font; Fred W. Cross, Fife Major, wounded through mouth, severely.

COMPANY B. —John Fifer, killed; Wentworth D. Wolf, taken prisoner; John Devine, corporal, wounded in the face; W. Graham, corporal, wounded in left shoulder; L. D. Porter, private, wounded in left hand, finger off; Wm. Auld, wounded in left hand, severely; Wm. Nelson, wounded in left hand slightly.

COMPANY C. —E. R. Roberts, First Lieutenant, wounded in hand, finger off; W. H. Ferguson, Second Lieutenant, wounded in right arm, severely; Clark B. Alford, private, killed; G. W. Baldwin, private, wounded in right arm; Edgar. Campbell, private, wounded in right hand; J. Hamilton, private, wounded in hand, slightly; J Kopf, private, wounded in arm, slightly; William Shell, taken prisoner.

COMPANY D. —Sergeant F. Bradshaw, taken prisoner; Corporal T. Raymond, taken prisoner; T. M. Reeves, private, taken prisoner; W. H. Harris, private, taken prisoner; Michael Greely, private, taken prisoner; Michael Walsh, private, wounded slightly.

COMPANY E. —Henry N. Estabrook, Second Lieutenant, killed; John Tefft, private, killed; Jasper Eveland, private, wounded, leg amputated; William Robinson, private, wounded in hip; Albion P. Gossard, private, wounded in arm;. Thomas H. Watt, private, wounded in shoulder, severely; John B. Forbes, private, wounded in hip, severely; Joseph Lancaster, private, wounded in head, severely; Edwin R. Jones, private, wounded in head, severely; Martin V. Miller, sergeant, taken prisoner; John J. Frost, private, taken prisoner.

COMPANY F. —James Adams, private, killed; Bernard Keely, private, mortally wounded; R. C. Staples, private, wounded; Hans Hanson, private, wounded; Joshua S. March, private, taken prisoner.

COMPANY G.—William Hawks, private, wounded, finger off; D. C. Munson, corporal, wounded in thigh, severely.

COMPANY H. —Jacob L. Ring, First Lieutenant, wounded in breast, severely; Laban Wheeler, sergeant, killed; W.T. Taylor, private, wounded in hip, severely; Edmond H. Cook, private, wounded in foot, slightly; John D. Turner, corporal, taken prisoner; James M. Halbert, private, taken prisoner; John Fowler, private, taken prisoner; William T. Omay, private, taken prisoner.

COMPANY I. —John H. Shankland, first sergeant, wounded in chin, slightly; David Walker, private; wounded in ankle; Robert Walker, private, wounded in right shoulder; George Heisey, private, wounded in arm severely; Patrick Crowley, private, wounded in right foot, severely; John Mow, private, wounded in left leg, severely; Michael O'Connor, private, wounded in left hand; John W. Campbell, sergeant, taken prisoner; Peter Miller, private, taken prisoner; Wm. E. Norton, private, taken prisoner; Daniel J. Baker, private, taken prisoner.

COMPANY K. —Felix Lane, private, wounded slightly in the face; Richard Taylor, private, wounded slightly in the back; George Palmer, private, taken prisoner; David Lewis, private, taken prisoner; Mike Connerty, private, taken prisoner. Total number killed, 6; total number wounded, 43; total number taken prisoners, 21 ; sum total of losses, 70.

As we look over this roll of honor, we think of those noble hearts that have ceased their pulsations forever, and of those now bleeding, mangled and torn, lying in the Corinth hospitals. In the years to come, when the tocsin of war shall have been hushed and the country is at peace, may America's great loyal people drop tears to the memory of those fallen heroes, and throw a fostering arm around her maimed and crippled warriors whose glorious nobility will be traced back to the most sanguinary battlefields of the nineteenth century. As we cast our eyes around us, we are wont to say, oh! had we the picture emblazoned upon canvass, with all its horrifying details and gloomy shadows; could the loyal people but discern the ardor, the industry, the exertion, the valor, the iron arm of strength that was raised in these two days on Corinth’s bloody field; could they but feel the glow of patriotism that warmed the hearts and brightened the eyes of those noble ones, who went down to-day on this crimson field; could they but feel the inspiration of the hour when life was nothing and the country all, they would then know the importance of the hour and believe in the providence of God, who will guide the ship of state into a prosperous haven. The Seventh is now sleeping; they are weary; their loss has been heavy. Terrible were the shafts of war hurled against them. When the battle's smoke vanished away, we all bowed our heads in silence, when we remembered that the gallant officer and christian soldier, Lieutenant Henry N. Estabrook, of Company E, was with us no more, but was sleeping the eternal sleep on Corinth's field of glory.

History tells of many brave spirits; its pages are teeming with plaudits for its daring heroes. But the historian has never moved his pen to eulogize a truer manhood and a purer spirit than was embodied in the life and character of Lieutenant Estabrook. Possessing an excellence of character, a gentlemanly demeanor, and high-toned manhood, he won for himself the esteem of his men and fellow officers. Though he was engaged in working war's mad machine, it never cast a shadow upon his Christian character. His mind was ever dwelling upon things that were high, grand and noble; spurning that which was groveling and ignoble as beneath the dignity of a Christain [sic] gentleman. We saw him when he fell; when the Union army's center was giving way, and while waving his sword, and cheering his gallant men, he went down beneath the old Union's swaying flag, and as his life-blood ebbed away upon the altar of the world's last hope, a smile was seen to play upon his face; it was a smile of triumph, a smile of sunshine and of glory, and the indistinct language of his soul was, "Lo, peace is here.” And his spirit fied from this field of blood and death, home to God. A truer man, a better commanding officer, a braver soldier than Lieutenant Estabrook has never been stricken down on America's great battle-fields. No purer spirit ever fluttered for entrance at the windows of heaven. Though he is dead, his name will ever live in the memory of the Seventh, and especially in the memory of his noble company, who stood with him until he fell a martyr to freedom. The faithful historian will write his name among the crowned ones of immortality. And from the warrior's grand calendar no ribbon, nor belt, nor jeweled cross will ever bear a prouder name than that of Lieutenant Henry N. Estabrook.

Lieutenant Brown, regimental quartermaster, deserves honorable mention. He was mortally wounded on the first day, while endeavoring to get water to his famishing and suffering regiment. Stemming danger and death, with a noble determination to work his way to where the smoke of battle rolled around the Seventh, he fell amid the raging tempest, fell in the performance of his duty to his country and his men. Brave soldiers who went down in this great battle, you have won for yourselves a Peace to your ashes. May the patriot pilgrims who in the years to come pass this way, drop tears of grateful remembrance over your last resting place, and may they feel that you have gathered laurels, eternal and bright as a pyramid of stars. Every one, officers and men, played well their part in this great battle. Ever found where duty called, each one is worthy of honorable mention—hence we will leave Corinth without particularizing any one of the gallant survivors.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 97-109

Diary of Caroline Cowles Richards: July 4, 1863

The terrible battle of Gettysburg brings to Canandaigua sad news of our soldier boys of the 126th Regiment. Colonel Sherrill was instantly killed, also Captains Wheeler and Herendeen, Henry Willson and Henry P. Cook. Captain Richardson was wounded.

SOURCE: Caroline Cowles Richards, Village Life in America, 1852-1872, p. 152-3

Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes, August 2, 1864

 CAMP NEAR WOLFSVILLE, MARYLAND, August 2, 1864.

MY DARLING:- We are having a jolly good time about sixteen miles north of Middletown, resting the men, living on the fat of the land, among these loyal, friendly people. We are supposed to be watching a Rebel invasion. Our cavalry is after the Rebel cavalry and I hope will do something. Averell is a poor stick. Duffie is willing and brave and will do what he can. Powell is the real man and will do what a small force can do. I suspect there is nothing for us to do here that is, that no (Rebel) infantry are here.

I saw Colonel Brown. — Hayes Douglass was, I am told, to be in our division. I am sorry he is not. I have not seen him.

The Rudys I saw Sunday. They were so kind and cordial. They all inquired after you. The girls have grown pretty – quite pretty. Mr. Rudy said if I was wounded he would come a hundred miles to get me. Queer old neighborhood this. They sell goods at the country store at old prices and give silver in change! Dr. Joe bought good shoes for two dollars and twenty-five cents a pair.

We are in the Middletown Valley, by the side of a fine mountain stream. We get milk, eggs, and good bread. All hope to stay here always — but I suppose we shall soon dance. We have campaigned so long that our discipline and strength are greatly deteriorated.

I read the correct list of killed, wounded, etc., of [the] Twenty-third this A. M. It contains scarcely any names you would know. With two-thirds of the regiment composed of new recruits and Twelfth men this would of course be so. The band astonished our rural friends with their music last night. They never saw Federal soldiers here before. They have twice been robbed by Rebel raiders and so are ready to admire all they see and hear. Love to all.

Affectionately ever,

R.

MRS. HAYES.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 489-90

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Tuesday, April 8, 1862

Oh! what a terrible scene does Shiloh's field present this morning. It is a scene of death; its victims lay everywhere. The blood of about thirteen thousand warriors has been shed here in the last two days. My God! what a sacrifice, what a flow of blood. But liberty has claimed it for an emancipated mind, and may it water well the great tree of universal freedom, and cause it to extend its branches fosteringly over a struggling people. In these two days of battle the Seventh sustained a heavy loss. The following are the casualties: 

Major R. Rowett, wounded. 

Company A. — Captain Samuel G. Ward, killed; private Alden Bates, killed. 

Company B. — Captain Hector Perrin, wounded; private Charles Newton, killed; Michael O'Keep, killed. 

Company C. — Sergeant George Mitchell, killed; Samuel Wilson, wounded. 

Company D. — Private Andrew McKinnon, killed. 

Company E. — Private Edmund Keve, wounded. 

Company F. — Killed; private Isaac Britton. Mortally Wounded ; privates John Jackson, Chas. P. Laing, John P. Hale. Wounded ; Wallace Partridge, John Dell, James Harrington, Hugh H. Porter, John Larkin, James Close. 

Company G. — Private John Gibland, killed; Captain Henry W. Allen, wounded ; private George Harris, wounded. 

Company H. — Lieutenant Leo Wash. Myres, killed ; private John H. Duff, killed ; private Ernst H. Myres, wounded; private Charles Ward, wounded; Sergeant Laban Wheeler, wounded; private James Walker, wounded; private Geo. W. Fletcher, wounded; private Carol Hurt, wounded; private Thomas Taylor, wounded; private Charlie Halbert; wounded; private Elam Mills, wounded. 

Company I. — Corporal Seth Hamilton, killed ; private John Bollyjack, killed ; private James Craven, killed; private James Lacy, killed; Sergeant Charles M. Fellows, wounded; private James Crowley, wounded; private John Johnson, wounded; private George Marsh, wounded; private Wm. S. Rogers ; wounded; private Michael Toner, wounded; private George Vesey, wounded; private George W. Byron, wounded; private Marcus McKinnis, wounded; private Daniel J. Baker, wounded. 

Company K. — Private John Nixon, killed; private Charles P. Huffman, wounded; private Jacob Howe, wounded ; Sergeant J. B. Sanders, wounded ; Sergeant Wm. C. Gillson, wounded; private John M. Anderson, wounded; private Thos. J. R. Grant, wounded; private Green B. Johnson, wounded; private George Reiner, wounded; private Joseph White, wounded. Total killed, 14; total wonnded, 43; sum total of casualities, 57. 

Glorious record! Proud names! Yes, proud as any that will ever embellish our national escutcheon. Departed souls, as courageous as history can boast of. From Shiloh's dark wilderness, no nobler, no braver spirit took its flight into the skies than the spirit of Captain Ward, of Company A. He fell mortally wounded in the fiercest of the battle Sunday evening, while at the head of his company, cheering his men on to deeds of valor. Some of his company stop to carry him from the field; but while glory is beaming in the dying warrior's eye, he says to his gallant men: “There goes the flag; it will need all its noble defenders to hold it up in the terrible battle that is raging so fiercely. Boys, it is trembling now! Lay me down to die; leave me and follow the old Seventh's silken folds, and tell the boys of Company A, that ere the sun's light is hid from this field, their Captain will be no more; that I will be silently sleeping in death. Tell them to remember Captain Ward, and keep the old flag in the wind.” 

Fainting he falls; his features lose their glow; his eyes are closed forever to the light. Alone, he died—died in his glory. Noble sacrifices may be offered in this war for the Union, but no nobler sacrifice, no grander type of a man, of a soldier, will ever be offered than has been offered in Captain Samuel G. Ward, of Company A. Captain Ward was among the first to hearken to the first call of the President in April, 1861. From a private in Company A, he was promoted by Colonel Cook to Sergeant Major of the regiment. At the end of the three months' service, Sergeant Major Ward was unanimously chosen Captain of Company A, in which position he served faithfully until liberty claimed him as a sacrifice on Shiloh's field, April 6th, 1862. Every one saw in him the elements of a rising officer; a star that was already shining, the light of which would have been seen afar had not the wild tempest blown it out so early. Though he passed away in youth's hopeful morning, ere his aspirations were reached, immortality's royal messenger will take up his name, and while soft winds chant a requiem around his grave, will say of him: “Here sleeps Captain Ward, whom liberty claimed in its great struggle on Shiloh's plain. He lived, he died, for country, home, and flag.” 

Lieutenant Leo Washington Myres, of Company H, died as the warriors die-nobly. He stood manfully while the bolts of war around him rattled, but he is a silent sleeper now. Amid shooting flames and curling smoke, he bravely sacrificed his life—sacrificed it as one of the martyrs of freedom. Being among the first to rush to the standard when arch treason first lifted its mad head, he was elected Second Lieutenant of Company H, and at the end of the three months' service, he was unanimously chosen First Lieutenant, in which capacity he valiantly served until his life was sealed at Shiloh, April 6th, 1862. 

In the wild storm that swept over that field, no truer patriot soldier was borne down than Lieutenant Myres. As a lover of liberty he followed the flag southward and stood beneath its folds where the gulf winds blew across the plains of Mexico. With Taylor and Scott, he fought for it there. With Wallace he died for it down by the Tennesssee. Oh ! how can it be that stars that gave such brilliant light should go out so soon. The providences of God are indeed mysterious. 

But all died in their glory. Sergeant Mitchell, company C, Corporal Seth Hamilton, company I, privates Alden Bates, company A, John H. Duff, company H, Charles Newton, Company B, Andrew McKennon, company D, Isaac Britton, company F, John Gibland, company G, Corporal J. Nixon, company K, and many others, died crowned with laurels as bright as the midnight stars. Though they carried the musket, we will ascribe no less praise to them, for heroes they proved themselves to be. From Thermopylæ to Shiloh, the world has never produced grander types of gallantry than has been produced in these private soldiers, who fell on this battle-field. Of all the fallen of the Seventh who went down in Shiloh's two days of battle, I can only say of them as Mark Anthony said of Julias Cæsar, “Their lives were grand; the elements so mixed in them that all the world might stand up and say, they were men; they were heroes; they were soldiers.” 

While on the battle-field, Sergeant S. F. Flint, Company I, writes: 

Soft fall the dews of midnight and morning, 

O’er the green hills where slumber the brave, 

Fall on each nameless and desolate grave; 

And soft be the song of the slow flowing river, 

As it pours by the shores they have hallowed forever. 

In peace and off duty the soldier is sleeping, 

No more will he wake at the shrill reveille, 

As it rings through the vales of the old Tennessee; 

But the wail of the wind, and the roll of the river, 

As it thrills o'er the hills his requiem forever, 

Oh! the homes in their own northern prairies and valleys, 

More lonely and dark than those desolate graves, 

O! the wailings that answer the winds and the waves ; 

O! the tears that will flow like the fall of the river, 

As it swells through the dells where they slumber forever. 

But lift up the old flag they died in defending, 

And swear by each nameless but glorious grave, 

That hallowed with triumph its free folds shall wave 

O'er the hills and the vales and the bright flowing river, 

O'er the whole lovely land of our fathers forever. 

We will now pass to yonder hospital steamer. The Seventh's wounded lay here; among the noble company lies the gallant Captain Hector Perrin, wounded badly in the thigh. Though a son of France, he loved freedom, and being one from the school of La Fayette, he fought bravely on Shiloh's field. Among this company we find heroes, all of whom have shown and yet show that they have in them the element of steel. Patiently and silently they endure their suffering. Who ever witnessed such fortitude ? The world will fail in its annals of blood to exhibit grander types. Some have lost a leg, others have frightful wounds in the face; but these are their patents of nobility. Dr. Hamilton, our popular Assistant Surgeon, as ever, has a care for the unfortunate ones. He is now, with his usual promptness, preparing to send them north. Some of them will never return again; but may a grateful people open wide to them their generous hearts, and leave them not to drift through the world in storm. Returning we mingle with the living. Of the noble survivors we can only say of them, they did well; they played their part as nobly as the most gallant warriors have ever done on any battle-field. In these two days of battle Major Rowett, who is now in his tent slightly wounded, but prostrated upon his cot, worn out by excessive toil, proved himself worthy the leadership of brave men. Where danger most threatened, there he was always found. None moved amid the carnage with a more dashing force. Full of fire and life, with a reckless contempt for danger, he stemmed the wild storm. He was wounded twice and had his horse shot but nothing could check him. At the head of his regiment he was always found, and it is conceded by those who knew, that no regimental commander handled his command on Shiloh's field better than Major Rowett handled the Seventh, At no time was the regiment driven into confusion, though many times its line was broken, but each time was reformed promptly, and be it said to the credit of the regiment, not a prisoner was taken in consequence of straggling. Captain Monroe, acting Major, has won the encomiums of all. Fight and battle seem to be his element. He carries with him triumph and glory. Enthusiastic as are all the brave, his voice was ever heard cheering the men and telling them never to let the flag go down. Captains Lawyer, Hunter, Estabrook, Church, Lieutenants Ring, Smith, Roberts, Ellis, Sullivan, Sweeny and Ahern were ever foremost in the battle and ever found encouraging their men, bidding them to stand firm for the flag and freedom. The color bearer, Sergeant Coles Barney, of company H, won for himself the admiration of his officers and comrades, for the gallant manner in which he bore his banner through the wild tempest. 

But all were brave, and all fought valiantly. They marched in blood, and threw themselves against arch treason until the Union's proud banner waved upon a triumphant field. At times it was fearfully dark, and the flag seemed to droop, but our noble men stood around it, and while blood was ebbing, they formed a defense of steel backed by hearts that never faltered. And thus defended, their flag, the pride of the mighty millions, shed glorious light around the noble men of the Seventh. 

Large parties are now at work burying the dead of both armies. Shiloh will be one vast grave-yard, but it will be destitute of marble slabs. Hundreds of Union soldiers will sleep here, and in the years to come, the patriot pilgrims will tread the earth above them, and know not that beneath sleeps Shiloh's martyrs. But should they chance to see some graves that are arched, so that they can be recognized as the graves of the lone soldiers, they will not know whether the sleepers fought for or against the old flag, and the friends of the loved and lost will not know upon which graves to throw their flowers or drop their tears, 

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 57-65

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Monday, February 17, 1862

This morning the boys in blue are everywhere in and around Fort Donelson, scattered among the boys in gray, rehearsing the scenes they have witnessed, and the trials through which they have passed. Although the Seventh was in the thickest of the battle, as their riddled colors show, their loss is comparatively small. The casualties in the two days' battle around Fort Donelson are as follows:

Company A.— Thomas Crayon, wounded.

Company B.— Private Thomas J. Parish, wounded in left hand; private Edmond P. Mann, wounded.

Company C. — John Brint, wounded in thigh.

Company D. — First Lieutenant James Munn, wounded in face.

Company F. — John Dell, wounded; Rosewell C. Staples, wounded.

Company G. — Jno. H. Dougherty, wounded in arm.

Company H. — Private John D. Turner, wounded in head.

Company I. — Captain Noah E. Mendell, killed; Ole Porter, killed; Corporal William Boring, wounded, leg amputated.

Company K. — John W. Hopper, killed by cannon shot; Corporal Thomas Kirby, wounded severely; Corporal Wallace Smith, wounded slightly; John Rhodes, wounded severely; Julius Wolf, wounded slightly: Dilivan D. Daniels, wounded severely; Winfry Mitchell, wounded slightly; Charles Huffman, wounded severely, leg amputated; Jacob Hoen, wounded slightly. Sum total of casualties, 20.

In looking over the list we notice that company K, the gallant Captain Hunter's company, sustained nearly half the loss in the regiment. Noble old Carlinville company, under its brave leader, made a fearful swing on these fortified hills. We will add no more; their list of casualties speaks for itself. It tells the story more plainly than pen can write it. Though our loss is light, we miss those who have fallen, and those who have been wounded. Among the most distinguished who fell in these wintry days of battle before Fort Donelson will ever appear the name of the brave Captain Noah E. Mendell, of company I. In view of the accident that befell him near Fort Henry, his friends remonstrated with him, and besought him to remain at the rear, but when the order was given “Forward to Fort Donelson," he determined not to be thwarted by anything. Evading the surgeon, who forbade his going, alleging, as was the case, that he was unfit for duty, he pressed on, saying to his gallant First Lieutenant, Edward S. Johnson: “Ed, you take command of the company; I will follow you as long as I have strength.” When he heard the drums beating, and the loud huzzas away on those hills, his heart beat high, and its silent language was, men tell me not to stay; I will go where that old flag goes to-day. Being unable from the injuries received near Fort Henry, to buckle his sword belt around his waist, he buckled it around his neck and followed close in the rear of his company, cheering his men and telling them to stand by their brave, youthful leader, Lieutenant Johnson, who was then commanding the company. But how soon are his hopes dashed down. A whizzing grape comes crashing through the woods and singles him as its victim, entering his head just beneath the right ear, coming out immediately through the center of his left. His death was instantaneous, and he fell with his sword still above his head, with his face lit up with the smile of triumph—a glorious death and such as all brave and patriotic soldiers like him would wish to die—face to face with the enemies of his country. Captain Mendell was born in Blairsville, Pennsylvania, November 4th, 1837, and consequently was in his twenty-fifth year at the time of his death, February 13th, 1862. When the call was made for three months' volunteers he was among the first to offer his services, together with a majority of Captain John Cook's (State Militia) company, denominated the Springfield Zouave Grays, of which he was long a respected member. Upon Captain Cook's promotion to Colonel, Mendell rose to Second Lieutenant, in which capacity he served during the three months' service, at the close of which he was unanimously chosen Captain for the three years' service. He was the only brother of Captain G. H. Mendell, of the United States Topographical Engineers, professor at West Point, whom, with a loving father and sister, he leaves to mourn his early death. He is silently sleeping now. May he sleep well, and may the noble men of his company, should they in coming years pass his grave, tread lightly there and shed a silent tear to his memory; and may every soldier of the Seventh do likewise, remembering that there sleeps the gallant Captain Noah E. Mendell, the first brave soldier of the Seventh who fell in the war for the Union, and the first in Grant's army who fell a victim upon the Union altar before the battlements of Fort Donelson.

Preparations are now being made to send his remains home to be buried in the Springfield cemetery. As a martyr, we give him to the loyal people of Springfield, and the Seventh, especially his noble company, appeals to them in the language of the poetess:

Lay him where the clover blooms,
Let the gallant soldier rest
Where the twilight dews will fall
On his youthful breast.

Lay him where the evening sun
Gives to him her parting ray;
Where the violet droops her head
At the closing day.

Lay him where the midnight star
Sheds o'er him her gentle light;
Where the wood bird's plaintive strain
Serenades the night.

Lay him where the stars and stripes
Will o'er him ever wave';
Where no foe can touch the realm,
For which he died to save.

Lay him where bright angel wings
Will guard his happy sleep ;
Until the Saviour's voice shall call,
May their faithful vigil keep.

Company D has lost for a time their loved and brave-hearted Lieutenant Munn. True to the flag and its fostered principles, he fought valiantly until wounded, when he was compelled to leave the field. We remember when he went bleeding from the hill, when we were making the assault on Saturday evening. He was foremost in the fray, fighting bravely until the battle was waning, when one of the deadly messengers selected him as its prey, inflicting a frightful wound in his face. Heroic soldier! We fear he will battle no more in the cause of human right.

The wounded are now being sent north, and while there, may they receive from the loyal people tokens of gratitude, that will make them feel glad that they stood on the banks of the Cumberland, when the winter winds blew, and when the battle king made his deadly march, causing shot and shell to make a dirge-like music where they stood. We cannot pass without alluding to the noble ones who passed through the battle untouched; who bore the flag through tempest and storm and planted its staff firmly in the ramparts. But how can we distinguish any when all were brave; when all stood so nobly during those fierce hours of battle?

Lieutenant Colonel A. J. Babcock deserves the praise of all. Cool and calm as a placid brook, with a heart that prompted to daring deeds, he led his men through the terrible storm, and as they followed him there was power felt on those hills. He displayed a tact and skill in handling the regiment, forming it at one time under a galling fire, which elicited the commendation of the General commanding. We will not soon forget how often his voice rang out in inspiring tones, and how the Seventh went surging on with him, and how her flag was ofttimes seen, reflecting its light where smoke and red-hot flame belched forth from brazen fronts.

Major Rowett also deserves the plaudits of all. Enthusiastic, but not rash, he was found where all the brave were found. None but could admire his dashso free, so courageous—as he moved with the regiment on those hills with defiance, facing danger and cheering his men on to victory. Says he, since the battle: “I never felt so happy in all my life as when before that rebel battery the first day; happy because I there discovered that I had a heart to face the cannon's mouth, which I did not feel certain of having until then.” Many of the Seventh can speak likewise; can testify that they feel glad in their hearts that they have been tried and not found wanting. Among the brigade commanders none were more conspicuous when the battle was at its highest than our Colonel, John Cook. Amid the terrible storm that rolled from the cannon's angry front he stood. Though death and carnage followed in its wake, making little streams beneath his feet, he faltered not, but with that veteran soldier and brave general, Smith, he moved until the sun went down and the battle storm was hushed.

SOURCES: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 36-42

Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes to Lucy Webb Hayes: Thursday, May 19, 1864

Meadow Bluff, May 19, 1864

Dearest: — We got safely to this point in our lines, two hours ago, after twenty-one days of constant marching, frequent fighting, and much hardship, and some starvation. This is the most completely successful and by all odds the pleasantest campaign I have ever had. Now it is over I hardly know what I would change in it except to restore life and limbs to the killed and wounded.

My command in battles and on the march behaved to my entire satisfaction. None did, none could have done better. We had a most conspicuous part in the battle at Cloyd's Mountain and were so lucky. You will see the lists of killed and wounded. We brought off two hundred of our wounded in our train and left about one hundred and fifty. But we have good reason to think they will fare well. . . .

We took two cannon which the regiment has got along here by hard work. The Thirty-sixth and Twenty-third are the only regiments which went into the thickest of the fight and never halted or gave back. The Twelfth did well but the "Flatfoots" backed out. The Ninety-first well, but not much exposed. The Ninth Virginia did splendidly and lost heavier than any other. The Potomac Brigade, (Pennsylvania Reserves, etc., etc.,) broke and fled. I had the dismounted men of the Thirty-fourth. They did pretty well. Don't repeat my talk. But it is true, the Twenty-third was the Regiment. The Thirty-sixth I know would have done as well if they had had the same chance. The Twenty-third led and the Thirty-sixth supported them. General Crook is the best general I have ever known.

This campaign in plan and execution has been perfect. We captured ten pieces of artillery, burned the New River Bridge and the culverts and small bridges thirty in number for twenty miles from Dublin to Christiansburg. Captured General Jenkins and three hundred officers and men; killed and wounded three to five hundred and routed utterly his army.*

We shall certainly stay here some days, perhaps some weeks, to refit and get ready for something else. You and the boys are remembered and mentioned constantly.

One spectacle you would have enjoyed. The Rebels contested our approach to the bridge for two or three hours. At last we drove them off and set it on fire. All the troops were marched up to see it — flags and music and cheering. On a lovely afternoon the beautiful heights of New River were covered with our regiments watching the burning bridge. It was a most animating scene.

Our band has been the life of the campaign. The other three bands all broke down early. Ours has kept up and played their best on all occasions. They alone played at the burning of the bridge and today we came into camp to their music.

I have, it is said, Jenkins' spurs, a revolver of the lieutenant-colonel of [the] Rebel Thirty-sixth, a bundle of Roman candles, a common sword, a new Rebel blanket, and other things, I would give the dear boys if they were here. — Love to all.

Affectionately ever

R.

Mrs. Hayes.

_______________

* See Dr. Joseph T. Webb to Marietta Cook Webb, May 24, 1864

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 461-3

Elizabeth Adams Lusk to Captain William Thompson Lusk, Saturday, December 20, 1862

New-York, Dec. 20th, 1862,

Saturday.

My own dear, dear Son:

I have many times during the past week thought of writing you, but I could not. Disaster, death, and the sickness of distressing fears have kept me quiet, striving for a firm trust and confidence in the mercy of God. My mind has been greatly relieved on your account, by seeing in the Herald that Burns' Division, of which the 79th formed a part, were not under fire, although they rendered important service. Thanks and praise to Him who has, I trust, again brought you safely through the perils of the battlefield. When the news of the repulse, with the dreadful loss on our side, reached New-York, gloom and despondency rested on all who had hearts to feel for anything. The sickening list of dead and wounded have been read over again and again, by mothers and sisters with tears and groans. Fathers sink their heads in anguish, and for all this distress and agony, we have gained nothing. But my dear son, the Nation is now I believe fully aroused, and the awful responsibility of this dreadful slaughter must rest where it belongs. None of our rulers, we hope and believe, will now escape the searching ordeal, and though this thought brings little consolation to the “desolated hearth,” yet for the brave hearts still “battling for their country,” it may bring some cheer. I visited St. Vincent's Hospital yesterday with your Aunt Maria, who is constantly doing good from her abundant means to the sick and wounded soldiers. I talked with one poor fellow who had lost a leg, and was lying weak and pale in bed. He was so uncomplaining, so cheerful, I looked and wondered. He was so glad to get newspapers, he felt anxious about his brothers in the army before Fredericksburg, he had looked over the lists and their names were not there, and so he hoped they were safe. I told him I had my anxieties too, I had a dear son there, but so many days had passed I had courage to hope now. I learnt a lesson by that bedside. I am waiting, watching for letters from you. I feel that good reasons of some kind prevent my hearing. Sam and Wm. Elliott called to see me last Sunday evening, but I was out, which I deeply regretted. Lilly saw them, as they called first at our boarding-house, 24 West 31st Street. I am still on Murray Hill, but am going into my own apartments early next week. Wm. Elliott said he saw in Washington a picture of Gen. Stevens and his staff, and as he was buying one for himself he also bought one for us, which he would soon bring to us. The likeness of you he says is very good. Dr. Elliott has been transferred to the Second Hawkins Zouaves and will be in N. Y., he thinks, two months longer. I presume your Uncle will write you about your proposition to raise money for the Highlanders uniform. He seems to be considering the matter, though he has said little except that it would be well, and might perhaps be done, if you could come on yourself. We do not feel that the Highlanders, although a valiant Regt., have been just or kind to you. We are proud of the deeds of that gallant corps however, and if they do you the justice that is your due, I think your friends would gladly assist them. Nellie is hurrying me so I must close. Charlie Johnson is engaged to Miss Julia White, sister to Dr. Lee's wife.

God bless you, my own dear son. If the prayers of mother and sisters are indeed a shelter, ours have not been in vain. May God guard, guide, be with you everywhere, is my constant cry to Him. Uncle P., Aunt M., Nellie, Thomas, Lilly, all unite in love to you and in gratitude to God for your preservation from danger.

Always my own dear, dear son, your very

Loving Mother.

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 252-4

Elizabeth Adams Lusk to Captain William Thompson Lusk, September 16, 1862

Norwich, Sept 16th, 1862.

My own dear Son:

I have very little reason to believe in the probability of your receiving my many letters, yet I continue to write with the bare possibility that they may some of them reach you. Last night came the news of a glorious victory for us, but alas! also came the sad and sickening news that another of our good and able Generals was killed. In the general rejoicing my heart is heavy, for my dear son was in Reno's command when I last heard, and I am looking with fear and dread for the terrible list to come from that battlefield. How my God is trying me, and how merciful he has been to preserve my precious son through so many appalling dangers! My heart was so full of sympathy for Mrs. Stevens. I wrote her a letter a few days ago. I saw that her husband was buried at Newport, and an extract from an address delivered on the occasion impressed me wonderfully. We are all occupied by the same train of thought, deepened in intensity of course with some of us, by the danger our loved ones are in. I received a very kind letter from Horace a few days since, wherein he dwells upon the birth of your reputation; he says at twenty-four you have won honors enough to suffice for a life time. You are not forgotten my own son, my heroic boy. Many hearts are watching, eager for every word from you. The extract from your letter in the N. Y. Post has attracted the attention of many who know you personally, or have heard of you. They say the account is interesting, and written too, by one who observes. . . .

SOURCE: William Chittenden Lusk, Editor, War Letters of William Thompson Lusk, p. 197-8

Samuel W. Crawford, April 18, 1861

Steamship Baltic,

Thursday, April 18, 1861.

general:

I have the honor to submit to you the following report of killed and wounded during and after the engagement at Fort Sumter, South Carolina, on the 12th, 13th and 14th of April, 1861.

WOUNDED IN THE ACTION

April 12, Sergt. Thomas Kernan, Co. E., 1st Art'y. Severely.

April 12, Private James Hays, Co. E, 1st Art'y. Slightly.

April 12, Private Edward Gall way, Co. E, 1 st Art'y. Slightly.

April 12, John Swearer, mechanic, Eng'r Dep't. Severely.

KILLED AND WOUNDED AFTER THE ACTION:

April 14, Killed: Daniel Hough, Private, Co. E, 1st Artillery, while firing salute.

WOUNDED:

April 14, Edward Gallway, Co. E, mortally wounded; died on April 19.

April 14, John Irwin, Co. E, severely burned on thigh and leg.

April 14, James Fielding, Co. E, severely wounded.

April 14, John Pritchard, Co. E, slightly wounded—face with fire.

April 14, James Harp, Co. E. slightly wounded.

Respectfully,

S. W. Crawford,

Assistant Surgeon, U. S. A.

SOURCE:  Samuel Wylie Crawford, The Genesis of the Civil War: The Story of Sumter, 1860-1861, p. 470.

John L. Motley to Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr., November 2, 1862

Vienna, November 2, 1862.

My Dear Holmes: More and more does it become difficult for me to write to you. I am greedier than ever for your letters, but the necessary vapidity of anything I can send to you in return becomes more apparent to me every day. It seems to me that by the time one of my notes makes its way to you in Boston it must have faded into a blank bit of paper. Where there is absolutely nothing in one's surroundings that can interest a friend, the most eloquent thing would seem to be to hold one's tongue. At least, however, I can thank you most warmly for your last letter. You know full well how interested I am in everything you can write, whether of speculation or of narration. Especially am I anxious to hear all that you have to say of Wendell's career. Of course his name among the wounded in the battle of Antietam instantly caught our eyes, and though we felt alarmed and uncomfortable, yet fortunately it was stated in the first intelligence we received that the wound, although in the neck, was not a dangerous one. I could not write to you, however, until I felt assured that he was doing well. I suppose Wendell has gone back to his regiment before this, and God knows whether there has not already been another general engagement in the neighborhood of the Potomac. What a long life of adventure and experience that boy has had in the fifteen months which have elapsed since I saw him, with his Pylades, seated at the Autocrat's breakfast-table in Charles Street!

Mary told me of his meeting with Hallowell, wounded, being brought from the field at the same time with himself, and of both being put together in the same house. We are fortunate in having a very faithful little chronicler in Mary, and she tells us of many interesting and touching incidents that otherwise might never reach us. She has also given us the details of the noble Wilder Dwight's death. It is unnecessary to say how deeply we were moved. I had the pleasure of knowing him well, and I always appreciated his energy, his manliness, and his intelligent, cheerful heroism. I look back upon him now as a kind of heroic type of what a young New-Englander ought to be and was. After all, what was your Chevy Chase to stir blood with like a trumpet? What noble principle, what deathless interest, was there at stake? Nothing but a bloody fight between a set of noble gamekeepers on one side, and of noble poachers on the other! And because they fought well and hacked each other to pieces like devils, they have been heroes for centuries.

Of course you know of Cairnes's book, and of John Mill's article in the “Westminster Review” for October, and of the sustained pluck and intelligence of the two Liberal journals in England, the “Daily News” and the “Star.” As for John Bright, I hope one day to see a statue raised to him in Washington. We must accept our position frankly. We are mudsills beloved of the Radicals. The negro-breeders are aristocrats, and, like Mrs. Jarley, the pride of the nobility and gentry.

Tell me, when you write, something of our State politics. It cannot be that these factionists can do any harm. But it is most mortifying to me that Boston of all the towns in the world should be the last stronghold of the pro-slavery party. I was interested in the conversation which you report:  “How many sons have you sent to the war? How much have you contributed? How much of your life have you put into it?” I hope there are not many who hold themselves quite aloof. For my own part, I am very distant in body, but in spirit I am never absent from the country. I never knew before what love of country meant. I have not been able to do much for the cause. I have no sons to give to the country. In money I have contributed my mite. I hope you will forgive me for mentioning this circumstance. I do so simply that you may know that I have not neglected a sacred duty. In these days in our country of almost fabulous generosity, I am well aware that what I am able to give is the veriest trifle; but as it is possible you might hear that I have done nothing, I take leave to mention this, knowing that you will not misunderstand me. I am not able to do as much as I ought. Your letters are intensely interesting. It isn't my fault if mine are stupid. Mary and Lily join me in sincerest regards to you and yours.

Ever your old friend,

J. L. M.

SOURCE: George William Curtis, editor, The Correspondence of John Lothrop Motley in Two Volumes, Library Edition, Volume 2, p. 291-3

Diary of Mary Boykin Chesnut: May 27, 1864

In all this beautiful sunshine, in the stillness and shade of these long hours on this piazza, all comes back to me about little Joe; it haunts me — that scene in Richmond where all seemed confusion, madness, a bad dream! Here I see that funeral procession as it wound among those tall white monuments, up that hillside, the James River tumbling about below over rocks and around islands; the dominant figure, that poor, old, gray-haired man, standing bareheaded, straight as an arrow, clear against the sky by the open grave of his son. She, the bereft mother, stood back, in her heavy black wrappings, and her tall figure drooped. The flowers, the children, the procession as it moved, comes and goes, but those two dark, sorrow-stricken figures stand; they are before me now!

That night, with no sound but the heavy tramp of his feet overhead, the curtains flapping in the wind, the gas flaring, I was numb, stupid, half-dead with grief and terror. Then came Catherine's Irish howl. Cheap, was that. Where was she when it all happened? Her place was to have been with the child. Who saw him fall? Whom will they kill next of that devoted household?

Read to-day the list of killed and wounded.¹ One long column was not enough for South Carolina's dead. I see Mr. Federal Secretary Stanton says he can reenforce Suwarrow Grant at his leisure whenever he calls for more. He has just sent him 25,000 veterans. Old Lincoln says, in his quaint backwoods way, “Keep a-peggin’.” Now we can only peg out. What have we left of men, etc., to meet these “reenforcements as often as reenforcements are called for?” Our fighting men have all gone to the front; only old men and little boys are at home now.

It is impossible to sleep here, because it is so solemn and still. The moonlight shines in my window sad and white, and the soft south wind, literally comes over a bank of violets, lilacs, roses, with orange-blossoms and magnolia flowers.

Mrs. Chesnut was only a year younger than her husband. He is ninety-two or three. She was deaf; but he retains his senses wonderfully for his great age. I have always been an early riser. Formerly I often saw him sauntering slowly down the broad passage from his room to hers, in a flowing flannel dressing-gown when it was winter. In the spring, he was apt to be in shirt-sleeves, with suspenders hanging down his back. He had always a large hair-brush in his hand.

He would take his stand on the rug before the fire in her room, brushing scant locks which were fleecy white. Her maid would be doing hers, which were dead-leaf brown, not a white hair in her head. He had the voice of a stentor, and there he stood roaring his morning compliments. The people who occupied the room above said he fairly shook the window glasses. This pleasant morning greeting ceremony was never omitted.

Her voice was “soft and low” (the oft-quoted). Philadelphia seems to have lost the art of sending forth such voices now. Mrs. Binney, old Mrs. Chesnut's sister, came among us with the same softly modulated, womanly, musical voice. Her clever and beautiful daughters were criard. Judge Han said: “Philadelphia women scream like macaws.” This morning as I passed Mrs. Chesnut's room, the door stood wide open, and I heard a pitiful sound. The old man was kneeling by her empty bedside sobbing bitterly. I fled down the middle walk, anywhere out of reach of what was never meant for me to hear.

_______________

¹ During the month of May, 1864, important battles had been fought in Virginia, including that of the Wilderness on May 6th-7th, and the series later in that month around Spottsylvania Court House.

SOURCE: Mary Boykin Chesnut, Edited by Isabella D. Martin and Myrta Lockett Avary, A Diary From Dixie, p. 309-11

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: September 24, 1862

Still no official account of the Sharpsburg fight, and no list of casualties. The Yankee loss in generals very great — they must have fought desperately. Reno, Mansfield, and Miles were killed; others badly wounded. The Yankee papers say that their loss of “field officers is unaccountable;” and add, that but for the wounding of General Hooker, they would have driven us into the Potomac!

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 157

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: September 2, 1862

Lynchburg. – The papers to-day give glorious news of a victory to our arms on the plains of Manassas, on the 28th, 29th, and 30th. I will give General Lee's telegram:

army Of Northern Virginia,

Groveton, August 30 — 10 P. M.

Via Rapidan.

To President Davis: — This army achieved to-day, on the plains of Manassas, a signal victory over the combined forces of McClellan and Pope. On the 28th and 29th, each wing, under Generals Longstreet and Jackson, repulsed with valour attacks made on them separately. We mourn the loss of our gallant dead in every conflict, yet our gratitude to Almighty God for his mercies rises higher each day. To Him and to the valour of our troops a nation's gratitude is due.

(Signed)

R. E. Lee.

Nothing more to-day — my heart is full. The papers give no news of the dead and wounded. The dreaded black-list yet to come. In the mean time we must let no evil forebodings mar our joy and thankfulness.

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 150-1