Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: March 6, 1863

I have meditated on this day, as the anniversary of my birth, and the shortening lapse of time between me and eternity. I am now fifty-three years of age. Hitherto I have dismissed from my mind, if not with actual indifference, yet with far more unconcern than at present, the recurring birthdays which plunged me farther in the vale of years. But now I cannot conceal from myself, if so disposed, that I am getting to be an old man. My hair is gray — but nevertheless my form is still erect, and my step is brisk enough. My fancies, tastes, and enjoyments have not changed perceptibly; and I can and often do write without glasses. I desire to live after this war is over, if it be the will of God — if not, I hope to exist in a better world.

We have no news of interest to-day. A letter says the noncombatants, even the women and children, heedless of danger, were voluntary spectators of the bombardment of Vicksburg the other day. The shells often exploded near them, and behind them, but the-fascination was so great that they remained on the ground; even one had an arm carried away by a ball! Can such a people be subjugated?

Houses (furnished) are beginning to be offered more plentifully than ever before; their occupants and owners finding their ordinary incomes insufficient for subsistence. I suppose they mean to find in the country an escape from famine prices prevailing in the city.

There is a rumor this evening of the fall of Vicksburg; but that rumor has been whispered here several times during the last few months. No one believes it. When Vicksburg falls, many an invader will perish in its ruins.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 1, p. 269

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

Lieutenant Colonel Charles Fessenden Morse: September 11, 1864

Atlanta, Ga., September 11, 1864.

To-day being Sunday, my office is closed, and I have a little time to tell you of some of the events of the last ten days.

September 2d, about eleven o'clock, we received the glorious news that Atlanta had been surrendered to a reconnoitering party from our Third Division. Our First Brigade was immediately sent forward to occupy the place, and about four P. M., the whole corps followed. We entered the city about dark, with bands playing, etc. Our regiment went into camp in the City Hall Park, having been detailed as the provost guard. The next morning, we took possession of the City Hall. I took the court-room for my office; the other rooms were taken for headquarters, guard-rooms, etc. My private room was with the Colonel, in one of the finest houses of the city, opposite our camp, — Brussells carpet, elegant beds and other furniture. The family were very glad to have us occupy the house for their own protection; they are very fine people, and I think have very little sympathy with the South.

Our first few days were terribly hard ones, but now that the army is settled in position and we have reduced things to a system, we are getting along very well; I doubt if to-day there are many cities in the North, of the same size, which are quieter or cleaner than this one. Atlanta is a very pretty place, and less Southern in its appearance than any I have seen. It is quite a new town, and its buildings are generally in good condition; there are, on the principal streets, some fine warehouses, banks and public buildings; the depots are the best I ever saw for railroad accommodations. There are large numbers of elegant residences, showing evidence of a refined population; in a good many cases they are deserted. Our shells destroyed a great deal of property, but I am sorry now that a single one was thrown into the city, for I don't think they hastened the surrender by a day. They did not harm the rebel army, the only casualties being twenty harmless old men, women and children, and two soldiers. There are differences of opinion about this kind of warfare, but I don't like it. General Sherman is going to make this a strictly military point, and has ordered all citizens, North or South, to remove within a limited time; the present population is ten or twelve thousand, so you see it is no small undertaking.

This measure, although it seems almost inhuman, I believe to be an actual military necessity; it is simply one of the horrors of war. We shall send people North who have always lived in a state of luxurious independence, but who will arrive there without a dollar of our money; their only property being their household furniture, etc. The gentleman who owns this house, a Mr. Solomon, is a fine old man; he is seventy-two years old and in poor health. It is a most pitiable sight to see him walking about his house and grounds, bent over with age and suffering, and to think that he must leave his home where he has lived so long. Fortunately, he has a son-in-law in Nashville, who is well off and will take care of him; but, as he says, it is pretty hard for a man of his years, who has been independent all his life, to have to depend on charity now. He had a son, a classmate of General Howard's, who died in the United States service about five years ago.

This is only one of hundreds of cases, but thinking or feeling about them is useless. I shall do what I can to get them off comfortably. There is a sort of armistice here for ten days. Trains of the two armies will meet at a fixed point and transfer their passengers and goods.

Sherman says that we shall wait here till about the end of October, when the corn crop will be ripe, and then go down and gather it. He is the most original character and greatest genius there is in the country, in my opinion.

SOURCE: Charles Fessenden Morse, Letters Written During the Civil War, 1861-1865, p. 188-90