Diary of Horatio Nelson Taft, Saturday, February 1, 1862

Nothing of any particular note has occured today. The ground was covered with Snow this morning, but it has thawed all day. Went down after dinner and with the three boys and got them all new boots with which they were highly pleased, paid $4.25 for the lot. Got “Bud” also a pair of pants $2.50, paid the Baker $4.25, Milkman $1.90. Got my Drawings today, shall put in my application in two or three days. I have not been out since dark, have been reading the papers, writing &c. Wife rc^d a letter from her Uncle Sullivan & [Mis Rec^d Cook?]. It is now ½ past ten. The boys went to bed at 8. Wife busy mending as usual evenings. Julia is writing off Poetry from a newspaper and I am going to bed.

SOURCE: Horatio Nelson Taft, The Diary of Horatio Nelson Taft, 1861-1865. Volume 1, January 1,1861-April 11, 1862, Library of Congress, Manuscript Division, Washington D. C.

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: April 3, 1865

Another clear and bright morning. It was a quiet night, with its million of stars. And yet how few could sleep, in anticipation of the entrance of the enemy! But no enemy came until 9 A.M., when some 500 were posted at the Capitol Square. They had been waited upon previously by the City Council, and the surrender of the city stipulated—to occur this morning. They were asked to post guards for the protection of property from pillage, etc., and promised to do so.

At dawn there were two tremendous explosions, seeming to startle the very earth, and crashing the glass throughout the western end of the city. One of these was the blowing up of the magazine, near the new almshouse—the other probably the destruction of an iron-clad ram. But subsequently there were others. I was sleeping soundly when awakened by them.

All night long they were burning the papers of the Second Auditor's office in the street—claims of the survivors of deceased soldiers, accounts of contractors, etc.

At 7 A. M. Committees appointed by the city government visited the liquor shops and had the spirits (such as they could find) destroyed. The streets ran with liquor; and women and boys, black and white, were seen filling pitchers and buckets from the gutters.

A lady sold me a bushel of potatoes in Broad Street for $75, Confederate States money—$5 less than the price a few days ago.

I bought them at her request. And some of the shops gave clothing to our last retiring guards.

Goods, etc. at the government depots were distributed to the poor, to a limited extent, there being a limited amount.

A dark volume of smoke rises from the southeastern section of the city, and spreads like a pall over the zenith. It proceeds from the tobacco warehouse, ignited, I suppose, hours ago, and now just bursting forth.

At 8½ A.M. The armory, arsenal, and laboratory (Seventh and Canal Streets), which had been previously fired, gave forth terrific sounds from thousands of bursting shells. This continued for more than an hour. Some fragments of shell fell within a few hundred yards of my house.

The pavements are filled with pulverized glass.

Some of the great flour mills have taken fire from the burning government warehouses, and the flames are spreading through the lower part of the city. A great conflagration is apprehended.

The doors of the government bakery (Clay Street) were thrown open this morning, and flour and crackers were freely distributed, until the little stock was exhausted. I got a barrel of the latter, paying a negro man $5 to wheel it home—a short distance.

Ten A.M. A battery (United States) passed my house, Clay Street, and proceeded toward Camp Lee. Soon after the officers returned, when I asked the one in command if guards would be placed in this part of the city to prevent disturbance, etc. He paused, with his suite, and answered that such was the intention, and that every precaution would be used to preserve order. He said the only disturbances were caused by our people. I asked if there was any disturbance. He pointed to the black columns of smoke rising from the eastern part of the city, and referred to the incessant bursting of shell. I remarked that the storehouses had doubtless been ignited hours previously. To this he assented, and assuring me that they did not intend to disturb us, rode on. But immediately meeting two negro women laden with plunder, they wheeled them to the right about, and marched them off, to the manifest chagrin of the newly emancipated citizens.

Eleven A.M. I walked down Brad Street to the Capitol Square. The street was filled with negro troops, cavalry and infantry, and were cheered by hundreds of negroes at the corners.

I met Mr. T. Cropper (lawyer from the E. Shore) driving a one-horse wagon containing his bedding and other property of his quarters. He said he had just been burnt out—at Belom's Block—and that St. Paul's Church (Episcopal) was, he thought, on fire. This I found incorrect; but Dr. Reed's (Presbyterian) was in ruins. The leaping and lapping flames were roaring in Main Street up to Ninth; and Goddin's Building (late General PostOffice) was on fire, as well as all the houses in Governor Street up to Franklin.

The grass of Capitol Square is covered with parcels of goods snatched from the raging conflagration, and each parcel guarded by a Federal soldier.

A general officer rode up and asked me what building that was—pointing to the old stone United States Custom House—late Treasury and State Departments, also the President's office. He said, "Then it is fire-proof, and the fire will be arrested in this direction." He said he was sorry to behold such destruction; and regretted that there was not an adequate supply of engines and other apparatus.

Shells are still bursting in the ashes of the armory, etc.

All the stores are closed; most of the largest (in Main Street) have been burned.

There are supposed to be 10,000 negro troops at Camp Lee, west of my dwelling.

An officer told me, 3 P.M., that a white brigade will picket the city to-night; and he assured the ladies standing near that there would not be a particle of danger of molestation. After 9 P.M., all will be required to remain in their houses. Soldiers or citizens, after that hour, will be arrested. He said we had done ourselves great injury by the fire, the lower part of the city being in ashes, and declared that the United States troops had no hand in it. I acquitted them of the deed, and told him that the fire had spread from the tobacco warehouses and military depots, fired by our troops as a military necessity.

Four P.M. Thirty-four guns announced the arrival of President Lincoln. He flitted through the mass of human beings in Capitol Square, his carriage drawn by four horses, preceded by out-riders, motioning the people, etc. out of the way, and followed by a mounted guard of thirty. The cortege passed rapidly, precisely as I had seen royal parties ride in Europe.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 467-70

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant Benjamin F. Pearson, October 26, 1862

Our Reg got our coats pants shirts & socks & caps & they needed them verry much 9 Oc I was at love feast in the African church then visited our boys in the hospital. then helped to receive & distribute the uniform 4 Oc we were on dress perade evening Emma & Mrs & Miss Kelly visited the hospitals & attended preaching at exchange church

SOURCE: Edgar R. Harlan, Currator, Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 15, No. 2, October 1925, p. 93

Diary of Private Lewis C. Paxson: Monday, November 10, 1862

I worked in office as usual. Made a pair of mittens of buffalo hide.

SOURCE: Lewis C. Paxson, Diary of Lewis C. Paxson: Stockton, N.J., 1862-1865, p. 8

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan, Friday, January 13, 1865

Drew Clothing, and issued same. nothing unusual transpires.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, Thirty-Third Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, Vol. XIII, No. 8, Third Series, Des Moines, April 1923, p. 571

Diary of Corporal John W. Dennett, January 4, 1863

The battery was inspected in the forenoon, and began to drill for the first time since we crossed the river. Mrs. J. C. Johnson of Boston sent the battery a case of knit jackets, one for each man,—one hundred and fifty in all. These jackets cost two dollars apiece in Boston.

SOURCE: John Lord Parker, Henry Wilson's Regiment: History of the Twenty-second Massachusetts Infantry, the Second Company Sharpshooters and the Third Light Battery, in the War of the Rebellion, p. 271

Diary of Private William S. White, August 23, 1861

Having but a limited supply of underclothing with me at this camp, I doffed my garments and turned washerman for the nonce, intending to seat myself on the sunny side of the mill pond and wait patiently until my clothes were sundried thoroughly. Only one shirt, one pair of drawers and one pair of socks. As a washist, I never have been a success, but clear water and a good will accomplishes much,—when all at once the drum beats to "fall in"—on went my wet clothes and away we marched to Yorktown, reaching that place thoroughly chilled through and through.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 107

Diary of Captain Joseph Stockton, January 14, 1863

Guard duty is the order of the day. Companies A and F taking turn about. We had a very heavy snow storm last night and today it is still snowing. Oldest inhabitants say they have never seen such cold weather and so much snow. Thermometer 4 degrees below zero. We have only our tents and they are not much protection in such cold weather. We have to go on duty without fires and walk up and down in the snow in low shoes when it is a foot deep, no gloves and very scant clothing, so we can form some idea what our Revolutionary Sires went through.

SOURCE: Joseph Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph Stockton, p. 7

Diary of Private Jenkin Lloyd Jones: Wednesday, August 27, 1862

Madison.  I had to pass through the regular scramble-game for my rations, and drew the bounty in the afternoon, went around town and bought my outfit, ready to leave.

SOURCE: Jenkin Lloyd Jones, An Artilleryman's Diary, p. 2

Diary of Musician David Lane, April 30, 1863

Columbia, Ky., April 30th, 1863.

At the date of my last entry—the 26th inst.—I had seen no indication of a move. We retired that night at the usual hour, and just as I was dropping off to sleep the order came: "Be ready to march tomorrow morning at five o'clock with two days' rations." It came like a "clap of thunder from a cloudless sky," surprising both officers and men. Our officers had formed numerous and pleasant associations with Kentucky's fair daughters, and it was with many regrets they were compelled to leave their agreeable society for the stern duties of the field. But military orders are inexorable as fate, and at precisely a quarter to five the bugle sounded "fall in," and at five we were on the move, bound for Columbia, forty miles away.

The weather is warm and pleasant now, but the burning heat of a Southern summer is close upon us. A forced march was before us, with no teams to carry our luggage. We could not carry all our winter clothing, therefore hundreds of good blankets and overcoats were thrown away. When we had marched three or four miles many of the men found they still had too much load, and then the work of lightening up began in earnest. For miles the road was strewn with blankets, dress coats, blouses, pants, drawers and shirts. In fact enough clothing was thrown away for Rebels to pick up to supply a whole brigade. No wonder so many Rebel regiments are dressed in our uniforms. As for myself, I was determined to stay by my goods, if I could not carry them. As a matter of fact I carried load enough that day to down a mule, and feel none the worse for it. We marched to Campbellville, twenty miles, and camped for the night. We were expected to cover the entire distance in two days, but fully one-half of the brigade were so utterly used up it was found to be impossible. We only made nine miles the second day, and camped at Green River. Here the Eighth Michigan and Seventy-ninth New York were ordered to remain; the Seventeenth was ordered to Columbia and the Twentieth to the Cumberland, forty miles beyond.

Lieutenant Colonel Luce is Provost Marshal of this district, and we are detailed to do provost duty. Colonel Luce's orders are: "Protect government property, keep good order in the town, arrest all disloyal citizens and report to headquarters every day." This part of the state has been much infested by guerillas, and we expect lively times.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 41-3

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, December 11, 1862

The guard was relieved early, and at seven A.M. we fell into line with the regiment, marching across the town to Fort Totten, where we joined our brigade. We made little progress till nearly noon, when, as we thought, we started, but there were continued hitches somewhere, and we had many chances to stretch ourselves on the ground. We were loaded down this time, carrying blankets and knapsacks, and most of us a change of clothes. About four o'clock we passed the pickets on the Trent road, apparently about a regiment, having a prettily situated entrenched camp, on a small elevation; their posts being about an eighth of a mile farther up the road. Soon after leaving them we encountered the first “obstacle" of the expedition. We kept halting, and then starting a little, and soon found we would probably have to sleep in wet clothes. We had to cross quite a long and deep run of water, but, for a change, were allowed to struggle with the plank at the side of the road; but those who succeeded in keeping their feet on the narrow, slippery timber, were few, but dry, and consequently happy. We saw lights ahead, and supposed we were close to camp, but had to march three miles or so before we turned into a cornfield on the left of the road, having marched about fourteen miles. A self-imposed detail of two went back to get water for the mess, and what wood we could find; then made our fire, had supper, and turned in. No good bunks now, but plenty of soft dirt to be tucked up in. 

SOURCE: John Jasper Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass. Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 23-4

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop: Saturday, May 14, 1864

Owing to wet clothing and a chill I could not sleep. Before day I was watching the country. At sunrise we were alongside the Little Roanoke River near its confluence with the Staunton. On the bridge over the Staunton several guns were planted, one so near the track that the engine swept it off. This was in expectation of a cavalry raid. We were 46 miles from Danville. Here they retain their slaves and agriculture is in its usual state. As we approach the Dan River the country is admirable, rolling land, rich valleys. The road runs near the river several miles north of Danville, then sight is lost of it. At this point I judge it is larger than the James at Lynchburg. It was after 3 p. m. when we got off the train at Danville and marched through the place, and an hour later when we get into quarters in a large brick building formerly a tobacco warehouse. In passing through we tried to buy bread of women who offered, but guards would not allow. Several buildings were filled with prisoners. As we got near the building we were to enter I saw a man taken at the battle of Chickamauga eight months before, who attempted to talk but was driven away. He was on parole building a high fence back of our prison. We were crowded so thickly into the building that there is scarce room to lie down. While waiting for rations a man passed through with tobacco at $1 in greenbacks and $3 in "Confed" a plug. At length rations came, corn bread and bacon warm. This was new, men had a great relish for it. It was the third day's ration drawn during the nine days we had been prisoners. Danville is four miles from the North Carolina line on the Dan, a branch of the Roanoke River. It has water power for manufacturing, but not developed; lies in a fertile country; the river is boatable to the falls in the Roanoke 40 miles east to Clarkville. Population, 1,900. Close confinement, not being allowed to get faces to windows, although they are heavily barred with strips of oak plank, the nature of our rations and conditions in general, began to work perceptibly on men. Water is insufficient and bad, taken from the Dan, muddy in consequence of rain. Diarrhoea is becoming universal. Bread is coarse, no seasoning.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 46

Diary of Private Louis Leon: February 1865

The smallpox is frightful. There is not a day that at least twenty men are taken out dead. Cold is no name for the weather now. They have given most of us Yankee overcoats, but have cut the skirts off. The reason of this is that the skirts are long and if they left them on we might pass out as Yankee soldiers.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 69

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, September 29, 1862

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

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

Diary of Private Ephraim Shelby Dodd: Monday December 15, 1862

I and Jeff Burleson went out and got a good dinner and my clothes. Came back and found the Company in Camp. To-night I, Eslinger and Jessy Johnson went out cross the hills to preaching. Parson Bunting officiated. I went down with Eslinger and the girls to Mr. Page's, got some good apples, set till bed time and came to Camp.

SOURCE: Ephraim Shelby Dodd, Diary of Ephraim Shelby Dodd: Member of Company D Terry's Texas Rangers, p. 4

Diary of Malvina S. Waring, February 7, 1865

While I cannot sign the bills as rapidly as Nannie Giles can, today I finished up four packages of the denomination of fifty dollars. Mr. Tellifiere says I am a treasury girl worth having, and that I did a big day's work, and a good day's work. Took my vocal lesson and paid Signor Torriani for my last quarter. He is gloriously handsome in the Italian way, which is a very striking way. I also sent check to the milliner for the $200 due on my new bonnet, and paid $80 for the old lilac barege bought from Mary L——.  Miss      P—— does not yet agree to let me have the congress gaiters for $75, and unless she does she may keep them herself, to the end of time! ’Tis a pretty come to pass when $75 of Confederate currency is not the equivalent of an ordinary pair of Massachusetts made shoes! J. C. called this evening. He is pleasant, but stops right there, and that isn't the place to stop. A man must know how to be disagreeable to be dangerously attractive, I think.

SOURCE: South Carolina State Committee United Daughters of the Confederacy, South Carolina Women in the Confederacy, Vol. 1, “A Confederate Girl's Diary,” p. 272-3

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, August 30, 1862

Our first morning in camp. We were rudely awakened and dragged from our bunks at six o’clock, very few being used to such early hours, except perhaps on 4th of July, and were expected to be on the parade ground before our eyes were fairly open.

My advice is if you ever enlist again, start with buckle or congress boots, or none at all, don’t wear laced ones. Why Thereby hangs a tale. One man who wore laced boots was late, consequently had to fall in at the foot of the column. In a minute or two, around came the adjutant and some other officer, who wanted a man for guard. The man who was late at roll-call, was detailed of course. He went without a word was posted on the edge of a pond his orders being “Keep this water from being defiled, allow no privates to bathe here, let only the officers bathe and the cooks draw water to cook with.” The orders were fulfilled, but the poor guard was forgotten, and paced up and mostly down (as it was a pleasant grassy sward,) till eleven o clock. That was his first experience of guard duty, and he always owed a grudge to the sergeant of that guard and his laced boots.

Meanwhile, the company, left standing in the street, with their towels, combs, &c., proceeded to the water, where the pride of many a family got down on his knees, and went through the farce of a toilet, and then back to breakfast.

To-day we have been busy cleaning up and getting ready for our friends from home. It has been as novel a day as last night was new, it is a great change, but we will conquer this, and probably worse.

Our friends began to arrive about three o clock, and by supper-time the barracks were well filled, many remaining to supper so shawls and blankets were spread upon the ground, and we gave them a sample of our food. The coffee was good but so hot, and having no saucer with which to cool the beverage, we had to leave it till the last course. Our plates were plated with tin, but very shallow, and as bean soup was our principal course we had some little trouble in engineering it from the cook s quarters to our tables. We must not forget the bread, it was made by the State, and by the looks, had been owned by the State since the Mexican war. We had never seen the like, and begged to be excused from enduring much of it at a time. (We afterwards found no occasion to grumble at our food, for as you may remember, we were looked after well during our whole service. We had as good rations as any one could wish, but here, within ten miles of home, we felt that this was rough on the boys.)

For a week, little was done but feed and drill us, to toughen us for the dim future, and the furloughs were granted very freely. We were soon astonished to find that we had for a surgeon, a man who meant business. Among other things, he thought government clothes were all that we needed, so spring and fall overcoats and fancy dry goods had to be bundled up and sent home. All our good things were cleaned out, everything was contraband excepting what the government

allowed. We had always thought it a free country, but this broke in on our individual ideas of personal freedom, and we began to think we were fast losing all trace of civil rights, and becoming soldiers pure and simple. Nothing could be brought into camp by our friends unless we could eat it before the next morning but goodies would come, and as we had to eat them, of course we were sick.

SOURCE: John Jasper Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass. Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 6-7

Diary of Private Lewis C. Paxson, Wednesday, August 27, 1862

We received our socks, pants, drawers and shoes. Did not get our guns. We encamped in tents, ate our supper just at dark.

SOURCE: Lewis C. Paxson, Diary of Lewis C. Paxson: Stockton, N.J., 1862-1865, p. 3

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: Sunday, December 13, 1864

Cloudy and cold, but wind southeast.

The sullen sound of cannon heard this morning as usual down the river. I hear of no active operations there, although the ground is sufficiently frozen to bear horses and artillery.

Rumors of successes on the part of Sherman near Savannah are still in circulation.

The rich men are generally indignant at the President and Gov. Smith for proposing to bring a portion of the negroes into the army. They have not yet awakened to a consciousness that there is danger of losing all, and of their being made to fight against us. They do not even remove them beyond the reach of the enemy, and hundreds are daily lost, but still they slumber on. They abuse the government for its impressments, and yet repose in fancied security, holding the President responsible for the defense of the country, without sufficient men and adequate means.

The following dispatch from Gen. Bragg was received to-day at 10 P.M.:

"AUGUSTA, Dec. 12th. "The telegraph having been cut, we get nothing from Savannah. A dispatch from Wheeler gives a copy of enemy's order for the line of investment around Savannah. It is about eight miles from the city, and was to have been reached on the 9th.

"B. BRAGG."

I have at length succeeded in getting a suit of clothes; it was made at the government shop for $50, the trimmings having been found (in the house) by my wife. The suit, if bought of a merchant and made by the city tailors, would cost some $1000. A Yankee prisoner (deserter) made the coat at a low price. The government means to employ them, if they desire it, in this manner. I am very thankful for my good fortune.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 353-4

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: December 1, 1864

Bright and warm.

It is said there is a movement of the enemy menacing our works on the north side of the river. There was shelling down the river yesterday and day before, officially announced by Gen. Lee—two of the enemy's monitors retired.

Gen. Longstreet says “over 100 of Gen. Pickett's men are in the guard-house for desertion, and that the cause of it may be attributed to the numerous reprieves, no one being executed for two months.” Gen. Lee indorses on the paper: "Desertion is increasing in the army, notwithstanding all my efforts to stop it. I think a rigid execution of the law is mercy in the end. The great want in our army is firm discipline." The Secretary of War sent it to the President "for his information." The President sent it back with the following biting indorsement:

"When deserters are arrested they should be tried, and if the sentences are reviewed and remitted, that is not a proper subject for the criticism of a military commander.—JEFF. DAVIS. November 29th, 1864."

Another dispatch from Gen. Bragg:

AUGUSTA, November 30th, 1864.—Following just received from Major Gen. Wheeler: “Four Miles West Buckhead Church, November 29th, 9 P.M.—We fought Gen. Kilpatrick all night and all day, charging him at every opportunity. Enemy fought stubbornly, and left a considerable number of their killed. He stampeded, and came near capturing Kilpatrick twice; but having a fleet horse, he escaped, bareheaded, leaving his hat in our hands. Our own loss about 70, including the gallant Gen. Robertson, severely wounded. Our troops all acted handsomely.”

Gen. Robertson has arrived here. His left arm is badly broken at the elbow, but he is doing well.—B. B.

Another dispatch of the same date:

To establish our communications west, I have ordered the immediate repair of the Georgia Railroad to Atlanta. With the exception of bridges, the damage is reported as slight. We should also have a line of telegraph on that route.—B. B.

I succeeded to-day in buying of Government Quartermaster (Major Ferguson) four yards of dark-gray cloth, at $12 per yard, for a full suit. The merchants ask $125 per yard—a saving of $450. I hope to have it cut and made by one of the government tailors, for about $50, trimmings included. A citizen tailor asks $350!

The Senate passed a bill, yesterday, increasing my salary and Custis's $500, which we don't thank them for unless we can buy rations, etc. at schedule prices. The money is worthless when we go into the open market.

My landlord, Mr. King, has gone into the grocery business; and, although he did not raise the rent for the present year, still asked more upon my offer to pay the amount of the first quarter to-day—$500, six months ago, were really worth more than $1000 to-day. At that time I acknowledged the house would bring more than $500. To-day it would rent for more than $1000. He left it to me to do what was right. I think it right to pay $800 or $1000, and will do so.

This evening our servant stepped into the yard just in time to save some clothes drying on the line. A thief was in the act of stealing them, and made his escape, springing over the fence into the alley.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 343-5