Showing posts with label Cemeteries. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cemeteries. Show all posts

Saturday, July 4, 2020

Captain Charles Wright Wills: October 18, 1864

La Fayette, October 18, 1864.

Our brigade was marching through Cane Creek Valley yesterday until 4 p.m., when we struck out for this place five miles, which we made in one and one-half hours. Nice little town almost surrounded with half-mountains. There has been a pair of cavalry fights here, the fruits whereof can be seen in an addition to the cemetery, near which we are bivouacked, some 25 Rebel graves, and half as many Yankees. Divers fair creatures can be seen here, chiefly Rebels; I have thought though, to-day, much Union. We are now bound for Rome.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 312-3

Saturday, February 11, 2017

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Monday, July 7, 1862

Camp Jones, Flat Top. — The warmest day of the season. The men are building great bowers over their company streets, giving them roomy and airy shelters. At evening they dance under them, and in the daytime they drill in the bayonet exercise and manual of arms. All wish to remain in this camp until some movement is begun which will show us the enemy, or the way out of this country. We shall try to get water by digging wells.

The news of today looks favorable. McClellan seems to have suffered no defeat. He has changed front; been forced (perhaps) to the rear, sustained heavy losses; but his army is in good condition, and has probably inflicted as much injury on the enemy as it has suffered. This is so much better than I anticipated that I feel relieved and satisfied. The taking of Richmond is postponed, but I think it will happen in time to forestall foreign intervention.

There is little or no large game here. We see a great many striped squirrels (chipmunks), doves, quails, a few pigeons and pheasants, and a great many rattlesnakes. I sent Birch the rattles of a seventeen-year-old yesterday. They count three years for the button and a year for each rattle.

There is a pretentious headboard in the graveyard between here and headquarters with the inscription “Anna Eliza Brammer, borned ——

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 298-9

Friday, February 10, 2017

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan: Thursday, April 13, 1865

Rained last night & thought myself quite fortunate in having procured enough pieces of Reb tents to make a tent large enough to hold Temp & I, we having no tents they being with the teams none of which were brought over I went out after breakfast although the rain was still falling to see fort Sdney Jonston. just finished, a work that 100 men could have held against 1,000 with ease the more I see of the works the more I am glad we did not have to charge them for it would have been attended with great slaughtr. I wished to visit the city but no one was permitted to go. I visited the cemetery where I saw the graves of about 60 men killed in Spanish fort. Some splendid marble mouments, the grond is all laid out in small lots these fenced & the whole enclosure a beautiful flower garden, the graves ornamented with some of the most beautiful shells I ever saw, I returned to camp at 11. at which time unexpectedly to all the Genl was blown the whole Div moved out. The men had without leave gone to the city so that I had but 14 men when we fell in, did not know where we were to go marched through town in platoons, colors flying music playing many remarks made by the by standers about our no's Streets full of negros & Creoles, saw thousands of bales of cotton marched through Royal St. the whits did not show themselves much, two Brigs of the Div take the wagon (road, an Brig take the R. R. track march out to the 6 mile staton, 2 ½ mile Citizen rides up says off to the left is a squad of Reb. cav. Col Krez goes to rear, to see about, thinks there are bout 25 same cit says we will find more at the station at Whistler where the R. R. shops are. When we approach, the other Brigs are arriving. See them unslingin knap sacks & double quicken to .the front. Our Brig ordered to do the same. Some sharp skirmishes in front. & can see the bridge at 8 mile creek burning, they were destroying the work shops when our men come up. The Reb run & co G. & B. of 33d & a co of 28th Wis were sent back immediately to a bridge across Black Creek just 2 mile from town to guard it. we marched back reaching it about 5 P. M. on the march back met most of my runaway boys. coming up. Several negros come in from the Rebs & report their force at 700 cav & 1 pieces of Artilery. All quiet in the front Rumors. — That Lee has surrendered his army to Grant & with it the Southern confederacy.—A salute of 100 guns was fired in Mobile Bay at 9. A. M. in honor of the fall of the city.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 8, April 1923, p. 590-1

Tuesday, March 22, 2016

Diary of Judith Brockenbrough McGuire: September 18, 1864


Nothing yet from Mr. —— about our rooms. All the furnished rooms that I have seen, except those, would cost us from $100 to $110 per month for each room, which, of course, we cannot pay; but we will try and not be anxious overmuch, for the Lord has never let us want comforts since we left our own dear home, and if we use the means which He has given us properly and in His fear, He will not desert us now.

I went with Mr. —— as usual this morning to the “Officers' Hospital,” where he read a part of the service and delivered an address to such patients among the soldiers as were well enough to attend. I acted as his chorister, and when the services were over, and he went around to the bedsides of the patients, I crossed the street, as I have done several times before, to the cemetery — the old “Shockoe Hill Cemetery.” It is, to me, the most interesting spot in the city. It is a melancholy thought, that, after an absence of thirty years, I am almost a stranger in my native place. In this cemetery I go from spot to spot, and find the names that were the household words of my childhood and youth; the names of my father's and mother's friends; of the friends of my sisters, and of my own school-days. The first that struck me was that of the venerable and venerated Bishop Moore, on the monument erected by his church; then, that of his daughter, the admirable Miss Christian; then the monument to Colonel Ambler, erected by his children. Mrs. Ambler lies by him. Mr. and Mrs. Chapman Johnson, Judge and Mrs. Cabell, Mr. and Mrs. John Wickham, surrounded by their children, who were the companions of my youth; also, their lovely grand-daughter, Mrs. W. H. F. Lee, who passed away last winter, at an early age, while her husband was prisoner of war. Near them is the grave of the Hon. Benjamin Watkins Leigh; of Judge and Mrs. Stanard, and of their gifted son; of dear Mrs. Henningham Lyons and her son James, from whose untimely end she never recovered; of our sweet friend, Mrs. Lucy Green. Then there is the handsome monument of Mrs. Abraham Warwick and the grave of her son, dear Clarence, who died so nobly at Gaines's Mill in 1862. His grave seems to be always covered with fresh flowers, a beautiful offering to one whose young life was so freely given to his country. Again I stood beside the tombs of two friends, whom I dearly loved, Mrs. Virginia Heth and Mrs. Mary Ann Barney, the lovely daughters of Mr. and Mrs. Robert Gwathney, whose graves are also there. Then the tomb of our old friend, Mr. James Rawlings, and those of Mr. and Mrs. Herbert A. Claiborne and their daughter, Mary Burnet. Just by them is the newly-made grave of our sweet niece, Mary Anna, the wife of Mr. H. Augustine Claiborne, freshly turfed and decked with the flowers she loved so dearly. A little farther on lies my young cousin, Virginia, wife of Major J. H. Claiborne, and her two little daughters. But why should I go on? Time would fail me to enumerate all the loved and lost. Their graves look so peaceful in that lovely spot. Most of them died before war came to distress them. The names of two persons I cannot omit, before whose tombs I pause with a feeling of veneration for their many virtues. One was that of Mrs. Sully, my music-teacher, a lady who was known and respected by the whole community for her admirable character, accompanied by the most quiet and gentle manner. The other was that of Mr. Joseph Danforth, the humble but excellent friend of my precious father. The cemetery at Hollywood is of later date, though many very dear to me repose amid its beautiful shades.

But enough of the past and of sadness. I must now turn to busy life again, and note a little victory, of which General Lee telegraphed yesterday, by which we gained some four hundred prisoners, many horses and wagons, and 2,500 beeves. These last are most acceptable to our commissariat!

The Southern Army are having an armistice of ten days, for the inhabitants of Atlanta to get off from their homes. Exiled by Sherman, my heart bleeds for them. May the good Lord have mercy upon them, and have them in His holy keeping!

SOURCE: Judith W. McGuire, Diary of a Southern Refugee, During the War, p. 307-9