Diary of Major Joseph Stockton, July 5, 1863

On the morning of the 3rd when the rebels hung the flag of truce from their fort on the Jackson road, word soon passed along our whole line to that effect and soon firing ceased and the works on both sides were lined with the soldiers of the different armies talking to each other. It must have astonished the Rebs to see we were so close upon them. In front of our brigade we could almost shake hands with them. How anxiously they and we felt as to what Pemberton's reply to Grant would be, and when about half past nine on the 4th we saw the stars and stripes float from the fort we had stormed unsuccessfully, the air was rent with cheers and how relieved we all felt. Orders soon came for us to get ready to march into the city. Logan's division in the advance and the 45th Illinois in the advance of the army owing to their gallantry in storming Fort Hill. The day was a terrible hot one. We packed knapsacks and were soon ready to march. It was hard work but soon we got on the Jackson road and were inside the rebel lines. We marched through long rows of arms, stacked on both sides of the road and their late owners sitting or standing quietly by them. There were no cheers as we passed through these men but the salutations were "How are you Yank?" "How are you Reb?" "Give us something to eat Yank," when our boys would throw them hard tack, coffee and what else they could spare. The march was a terrible one and notwithstanding that it was marching into Vicksburg. I never saw so many men affected by the heat. When we reached the Court House I saw our glorious banner floating from its dome where only in the morning the rebel flag had been waving to the breeze. Our men could restrain themselves no longer and gave one long, loud cheer. We marched around the Court House, which is a fine large building, and then halted, stacked arms while waiting for further orders. They soon came to us to march back to the fortifications and halt on the inside. We did so; reached them about dusk and bivouacked for the night. Captain Dickey of General Ransom's Staff soon came and ordered me on duty as "officer of the day" and to post guards for the night along the fortifications to keep the prisoners from escaping. I had a hard time of it but no one can appreciate my feelings of the satisfaction I had as I rested on a cannon which but a few ours before was shotted against us. The night was a beautiful one and in making my "rounds" I would come across groups of rebel prisoners who would be sitting by a fire discussing their fate. They were anxious to know what was going to be done with them, whether they would be sent North, which they feared; or paroled. They spoke of the incidents of the siege and of the assault on the 22nd of May and how they slaughtered us with so little loss to themselves. As I had eaten no dinner and but a cracker for supper, I was glad when morning came and I was relieved from duty. I slept during the morning as I was completely exhausted, and in the afternoon visited the rebel works opposite our front. I was amazed at their strength and, after we got in, how they could have slaughtered us. You must look to history as to the amount of war material and men surrendered. I was surprised to see their men so well dressed and looking so well. I asked some of them about their rations of mule meat and they say it was issued once, which was more for effect than anything else, as they told me themselves they could have lived several days longer without being starved on what they had, but many of them said they were afraid of what we might do on the 4th; well they might, for in the morning orders had been issued for a national salute of 34 rounds, shot from every gun in position around Vicksburg, and several mines were to have been exploded blowing up their forts. Taking it all in all, it was well for both sides as many thousands of lives would have been sacrificed on both sides in the assault.

SOURCE: Joseph Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph Stockton, pp. 19-20

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty, December 21, 1861

A reconnoissance was made beyond Green river yesterday, and no enemy found.

We are short of supplies; entirely out of sugar, coffee, and candles, and the boys to-night indicated some faint symptoms of insubordination but I assured them we had made every effort possible to obtain these articles, and so quieted them.

Major Keifer was officer in charge of the camp yesterday, and when making the rounds last night a sentinel challenged, "Halt! who comes there?" The sergeant responded, "Grand rounds," whereupon the weary and disappointed Irishman retorted in angry tones: "Divil take the grand rounds, I thought it the relafe comin'."

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 87-8

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty, December 25, 1861

Gave passes to all the boys who desired to leave camp. The Major, Adjutant and I had a right royal Christmas dinner and a pleasant time. A fine fat chicken, fried mush, coffee, peaches and milk, were on the table. The Major is engaged now in heating the second tea-pot of water for punch purposes. His countenance has become quite rosy; this is doubtless the effect of the fire. He has been unusually powerful in argument; but whether his intellect has been stimulated by the fire, the tea, or the punch, we are at this time wholly unable to decide; he certainly handles the tea-pot with consummate skill, and attacks the punch with exceeding vigor.

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BLOG EDITORS NOTE: For a punch recipe that includes hot water see 69th Regiment Punch.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, pp. 88-9

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, December 4, 1861

The story of yesterday's fight is all bosh. There were no two hundred prisoners taken—no fifteen killed—no fight—not a rebel seen! Munchausen must have been the legitimate son of a camp, or rather, the camp must be the legitimate progenitor of the whole race of Munchausen.

But it is surprising how camp life enhances the capacities of some men. I left home in July a dyspeptic. I came to Camp Griffin, in October, weighing one hundred and thirty-nine pounds. I record here, as something worth my remembering, an extract of a letter written to-day to a friend inquiring how camp life affected my health:

“ * * * I weigh now one hundred and fifty pounds. I have almost recovered my appetite. With other things in proportion, I now take three cups of coffee for breakfast, three cups tea at dinner, two cups at tea, and eat five meals a day, or suffer from hunger. My last meal is usually taken at 11 to 12 o'clock at night, and consists of one or two chickens, or a can of oysters, with a pot of English pickled cauliflower. With that I contrive to get through the night.

"But with the morrow's rising sun

The same dull round begins again."

"Last night, however, I was so unfortunate as to have no chickens. My can of oysters was sour, and I had to put up with a single head of boiled cabbage, half a dozen cold potatoes, and some cold boiled beef. I wonder what I shall do when we get away from the neighborhood of Washington to where there is no market, no oysters, no chickens, no cabbage, no cauliflower, 'no nothin'.' I shall be compelled to settle back to dyspepsia, and have no appetite."

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 59

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, December 21, 1861

Did ever husband and father need the comforting aid of the help-meets of home as I need them this evening? See my table. Six full foolscap sheets of letters from home—read, re-read, studied, spelled, and now to be answered. I wonder if any body ever imagines the value of a letter to a soldier. His power of estimating must be large indeed, if he can appreciate it. Were it not for this value I should never have the courage to attempt answering all this pile. But then, I have no room to arrange all these with a view to replies, for my whole tent is as crowded as my table, full of evidences of the kindness—I will dare to say, of the affection of so many of my kind lady-friends. The dictates of kindness and benevolence may crowd upon you articles of comfort and utility, but it requires the affections to indicate the numerous little tokens which peep from the packages of useful things now piled around my tent. They strengthen and they cheer me. I shall endeavor, right here, to make myself worthy of all this confidence. What a field this is for the exercise of the "unseen heroism" of life!

But how in the name of Legerdemain do our friends contrive to get so many things into a little box? Why, my 10x10 tent is absolutely full. It is well, too, that the box was opened just to-day, for things in it were getting considerably "mixed." Two or three preserve and jelly jars, and a bottle of pickles had been broken. The contents had escaped, and to make amends for their long confinement, like colts let loose, they ran considerably. The pickles had "pitched into" the sugar. The jelly had made a dash at the tea. The nutmegs were luxuriating in a mixture of preserves and coffee. There seemed to be an inclination amongst these belligerents to get into "a muss" generally; but I "offered mediation." After two or three hours of back-ache work, I got the conglomerates restored to their original elements, and gave the men a look at them. They were gratified and thankful. I do not think one man looked on one of these evidences of home rememberance but felt strengthened in his resolves to perform manfully the duties which he had undertaken.

Yesterday we had the first fight worthy the name, since we joined the army. General McCall sent out a Brigade (about 4,000 men) to reconnoitre. They came upon an equal number of the enemy, and after taking a good look at each other, concluded to "go in." In this fight we gained a decided victory. No mistake this time. We fought and won.

We lost a few men—about ten killed and some thirty wounded. Amongst the latter is Lieutenant Colonel Kane of the Pennsylvania "Buck Tails." He is a brother of the late Doctor Kane, of the Arctic Expedition.*

Yesterday a few Surgeons met in my tent and gave expressions to their feelings against a self-constituted organization calling itself the "U. S. Sanitary Commission." I have had very little acquaintance with its members, or with its mode of doing business. From the almost universal prejudice which the Surgeons have against it, I infer that it must possess many bad or troublesome traits of character. I have naturally enough imbibed impressions which are anything but favorable in regard to it. At our little talk, yesterday, it was determined amongst us that the Commission must be "written down." I am selected to do the writing, my professional brothers to furnish the data. This morning I commenced my first article, but before it was finished, the roar of cannon and the bursting of shells arrested my attention, and I left my writing to watch the progress of the battle of Drainesville [sic]. In a little while, the wounded began to be brought in, and the whole being new to us, the Surgeons, now, for the first, began to examine their stores and appliances for wounded men. We had very few things which we needed, and whilst mourning over the delay necessary to procure them from Washington (some 9 miles distant) the agents of this Commission, having got wind of the progressing fight, had loaded up light wagons with their sanitary stores and rushed to the scene of suffering with the very things most needed. I confess that I feel a little ashamed to have been caught in the act of writing such an article, under such ci[r]cumstances. Something good may come out of Nazareth yet. I think I shall wait and see, rather than be induced by the prejudices or opinions of others, to commit an act, perhaps a wrong, which I may be sorry for.

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* Battle of Dranesville.

SOURCE: Alfred L. Castleman, The Army of the Potomac. Behind the Scenes. A Diary of Unwritten History; From the Organization of the Army, by General George B. McClellan, to the close of the Campaign in Virginia about the First Day January, 1863, p. 66-9

Diary of Major Joseph Stockton, May 11, 1863

Reveille at four o'clock; started on our march after a "hearty cup of coffee." Struck inland and marched around Lake St. Joseph, through one of the most beautiful countries I ever saw; the plantations large and residences elegant; one in particular, Judge Bowie's, was one of the most elegant places in the South; the flower garden eclipsed anything of the kind I ever saw. Most of the men had bouquets stuck in their muskets. My horse had his head decorated with them. This elegant place was in ruins by the time we got there. The house had been burned, as were most of the residences around the lake, and all the cotton gins. Most of the owners had fled and left their houses to the care of the servants. I must say that the officers did what they could to prevent it, and General Ransom halted the brigade and said he would have any of his command severely punished if caught in the act of setting fire to any building, yet while he was talking, flames burst forth from half a dozen houses. Marched eighteen miles.

SOURCE: Joseph Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph Stockton, pp. 13-4

Diary of Major Joseph Stockton, May 18, 1863

Roads terribly dusty and weather hot. Marched quick time; water scarce, rations reduced, consisting of two pieces of hard tack and half rations of coffee a day since leaving Grand Gulf. Sherman's corps got ahead of us. Reached our long-looked-for destination at last, the rear of Vicksburg. We arrived about dusk a mile outside of the rebel fortifications. Sherman's corps marched to the right of the Jackson Road, the one on which we entered, their right extending to the Mississippi River (north of Vicksburg), McPherson's corps coming next, and Ransom's brigade being in the front. took position on Sherman's left, and McClernand's corps coming in on another road took position on McPherson's left, and at last we had the rebels hemmed in Vicksburg, the goal of our hopes for months past, the object of so many hard marches, the rebel stronghold in the West, the only point that kept the Mississippi River from being free to the North. The 72d Ill. was thrown out as advance guard that night and myself as officer of the guard. Although completely worn out I did not dare to sleep, but kept moving from point to point all night. At one time a party of cavalry came riding along the road on which I had posted some men, and although dressed in our uniform my men would not let them pass until they had sent for me. I recognized one of the officers and permitted them to go through. A large fire was burning in Vicksburg, but we could not discover what it was. We knew there would be bloody work for the morrow, as we would have to assault their works to get into Vicksburg.

SOURCE: Joseph Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph Stockton, p. 15

Diary of Private John C. West, Tuesday, May 5, 1863

Yesterday evening there were heavy clouds and a good deal of lightning in the North; after supper laid down on the deck and slept very comfortable until awakened by a heavy rain; gathered up my blanket and crowded into the state room, which proved to be almost suffocating. I was very sleepy, so went down in the engine room and slept until morning, crosswise on two barrels of rum; waked up quite refreshed to enjoy the beautiful scenery on the banks of the Ouachita, among the most picturesque of which was a high bluff on which was a single grave; a romantic lady, the wife of a pilot, was buried there by her request, where her gentle spirit might keep vigil over the destinies of her husband. We stopped during the morning to take an old rail fence for fuel; a soldier shot a hog, which gave us fresh pork for dinner; found some very nice mulberries on shore and wished my children, little Stark and Mary, had some of them. Had a very pleasant trip on to Hamburg; went ashore there and got transportation to Trinity; after supper proceeded down to the river and met the steamer, Tucker; stopped and had a talk and got the Natchez Courier.

Forgot to say above that I met Dr. Rock on this steamer; learned from him that Lieutenant Brandon was at Pine Bluff on the 8th of April, and was going to Virginia. Dr. Rock is on his way to Richmond. We reached Trinity about 12 o'clock at night, on Tuesday, the 5th, and have not stopped long enough during the day to write up this diary, and at night had no light; left the Trinity in a skiff with five others; proceeded up the Ouachita for about six miles; then into Brushy Bayou; after following this for about two miles the thorns and bushes were so troublesome that we had to get to land and walk about four miles, while the negroes worked the skiff through. In this walk I got far enough ahead of the skiff to take a nap; laid down on the ground and slept gloriously for an hour; would have enjoyed it more with a blanket to lie on. At the end of this walk we had a very good breakfast by paying five dollars a dozen for some eggs and furnishing our own coffee, and then paying two dollars a piece for breakfast. After breakfast pulled the skiff overland into Cane Bayou, and proceeded up this for six miles to Turtle Lake, a beautiful sheet of water three miles long; from this we entered Cocoda Bayou, which we followed for eight miles into Concordia Lake, up which we rowed for seven or eight miles, which landed us about three miles from Natchez. All this skiff trip is through just such a country as an alligator would thrive in; affording fine facilities for fishing and duck shooting; no one but a Newfoundland dog would enjoy it. We procured a cart to take our baggage to the Mississippi river; crossed in a skiff to Natchez; remained there all night and left Thursday morning for Brookhaven; stopped at Dr. Holden's and got the second good dinner I have had since I left home; reached McDaniel's at dark and found it quite a nice place, and met here that rare creature of the West an old maid; she seems to be quite a nice person and I think has been doomed to this state of single felicity by circumstances for which she is not responsible. We got a good breakfast at 4 o'clock in the morning, which enabled us to reach Brockhaven (where I am now writing) by 10 o'clock. On the road to this place I passed a bridge which Grierson's Cavalry had destroyed, and here I see the remains of the depot which they burned. These are the first practical examples of Yankee vandalism I have seen during the war. I expect to leave here to-day at 2 o'clock.

Reached Jackson at 6 o'clock and found the train for Meridian about to start and had no time to get transportation, and so have to remain here against my will until to-morrow evening. All these days which I have been delayed I had hoped to spend in Columbia, South Carolina.

SOURCE: John Camden West, A Texan in Search of a Fight: Being the Diary and Letters of a Private Soldier in Hood’s Texas Brigade, p. 33-6

Diary of Private Seth J. Wells, December 25, 1862

Christmas. I came off guard duty this morning. We drew half rations for four days and part of that was cornmeal. Our coffee is rye and in small quantities at that. The boys have gone out to see if they can find a stray hog or beef for Christmas dinner. Oh! if I could be at home today.

One o'clock. We just now received marching orders to be ready tomorrow morning. Frank, Bill, Buttons and Boggs of our mess, and Ragan and Doughty of the Peacock mess, fetched in a whole beef, and a few minutes later Abe, John and Scott brought in a whole hog. If we live on half rations it will not be of meat, as we have a hog and half a beef. It is very warm and pleasant today, I lay down and took a nap, but the flies were so troublesome I could hardly sleep.

SOURCE: Seth James Wells, The Siege of Vicksburg: From the Diary of Seth J. Wells, Including Weeks of Preparation and of Occupation After the Surrender, p. 21-2

Diary of Musician David Lane, July 23, 1863

Haines Bluff, Miss.  We arrived at our old camp yesterday—twenty days from the time we left it—the toughest twenty days of our experience. A dirtier, more ragged and drilled-out lot of men I hope never to see. The first thing I did, after eating a little hardtack and drinking a cup of coffee, was to bolt for the spring, build a fire, boil my shirt, pants and socks, scrub myself from head to heels, put on my clothing wet—though not much wetter than before and return to camp a cleaner, therefore a better man. There have been times when we could not get water to wash our hands and face, to say nothing of our clothing, for a week or more.

It was dark when I returned to camp, but fires were burning brightly in every direction, and around them were gathered groups of men silently reading letters. I hastened to the Orderly and asked him "Have you anything for me?" "Yes, I have four letters for you." My heart gave one great bound of gladness, and, grasping them tightly, I hastened to the nearest fire to learn what news from home. Rumors of a great battle, fought and won by Meade, had been in circulation several days, but no one knew whether true or false. These letters from my wife confirmed them. The threatened invasion took place, was crushed, and Lee was suffered to recross the Potomac at his leisure, as he was allowed to do after Antietam.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 70-1

Diary of Musician David Lane, July 29, 1863

Haines Bluff. We did not leave on the 23d, as was rumored, but are still in our old camp, enjoying a short season of repose preparatory to our voyage up the river. It is a repose much needed by our men. What prompted our commander to hurry us through as he did sixty miles in three days—I cannot conceive. Strict orders were issued against straggling. No man would be allowed to leave the ranks without a written pass from the Surgeon, and all stragglers were to be picked up by the Provost Guard and taken to headquarters for trial by court martial. The General "reckoned without his host." Some men, so great was their respect for discipline, marched in the ranks until they fell, in a dying condition. But most of them cursed the General and his orders and sat down to rest and cool off whenever their judgment told them they were getting too hot, and, when rested, came on again.

After the first day, no attention was paid to orders. Men fell out in such numbers the Provost could not arrest them, and came straggling into camp until nearly morning.

The next morning after our arrival, in the Seventeenth alone, one hundred twenty men were reported unfit for duty, and forty-five are now sick in hospital. Doubtless much of this sickness is the effect of the poisonous liquid we were compelled to use for cooking and drinking purposes. How grateful to us, then, is the delicious, sparkling water that flows in abundance from that romantic spring I described on our first arrival. Before I leave this subject, let me record our experience the week we were encamped before Jackson. The first day we used cistern water, but that soon failed. After that, all that was left for coffee and for cooking purposes was water from an artificial pond, scooped out in a barnyard, and all the battery and camp horses—five or six hundred of them in number—were watered there every day. They were ridden right into the pond! Rather than drink it, I have been three miles to the rear, after having been on duty all day, for a canteen of cistern water.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 71-2

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne: November 18, 1862

Orderly Holmes and myself have been on shore again. We went up the beach and found a soldiers' graveyard. We got breakfast at a darky hut, mutton chops and onions, hot biscuit and coffee, all for twenty-five cents. The boat that takes us to and from the Arago is a small affair that used to run up and down the James River. The Rebs have left their mark upon it in the shape of bullet holes most everywhere, but most often on the pilot-house.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 63

Diary of Private John C. West, Sunday, April 19, 1863

I rested well last night but had the most hideous dreams all night; Mrs. Brownnigg came in early this morning and asked me into her room; I went and found the fire very comfortable; the doctor came to see me and seems to think I am all right now, but must be careful about my diet; says some good brandy is exactly what I need to recruit on; so I missed it by leaving mine at home. Major Holman called to see me this morning; says he will see my transportation fixed all right; offers relief from the loss of my pocketbook; the doctor does likewise; Mrs. Brownnigg offers me money also. I ate nice toast and drank genuine coffee for breakfast; had chicken soup for dinner; spent most of the day in reading one of Bulwer's novels, entitled, "A Strange Story"; have read fifty or sixty pages, but am not much interested yet. My intention now is to leave here so as to remain at Alexandria the shortest time possible. I learn to-day that Mr. A, my hotel landlord, is tired of soldiers, especially sick ones, and grumbles terribly when one gets out of money at his hotel. If this is true, he is not a true man. I would rather be under obligations to the devil.

Little Bettie Brownnigg is quite a nice girl. Hallie Bacon, several years younger, is in a fair way to be spoiled. There is a young lady, Miss Nora Gregg, staying with Mrs. Brownnigg; she seems to be a clever good girl and is finishing my sock, which wife expected Miss Nannie Norton, of Richmond, Va., to knit for me; she has knit thirty pairs of socks in the last two months; she has a most magnificent suit of soft brown hair.

SOURCE: John Camden West, A Texan in Search of a Fight: Being the Diary and Letters of a Private Soldier in Hood’s Texas Brigade, p. 19-20

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty: August 12, 1861

This is the fourth day that Captain Cunard's company has been lying in the woods, three miles from camp, guarding an important road, although a very rough and rugged one. Companies upon duty like this, remain at their posts day and night, good weather and bad, without any shelter, except that afforded by the trees, or by little booths constructed of logs and branches. From the main station, where the captain remains, sub-pickets are sent out in charge of sergeants and corporals, and these often make little houses of logs, which they cover with cedar boughs or branches of laurel, and denominate forts. In the wilderness, to-day, I stumbled upon Fort Stiner, the head-quarters of a sub-picket commanded by Corporal William Stiner, of the Third. The Corporal and such of his men as were off duty, were sitting about a fire, heating coffee and roasting slices of fat pork, preparing thus the noonday meal.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 50-1

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, December 17, 1862

GOLDSBORO.

There was no time this morning to cook coffee, so we started on a cold-water breakfast, after another cold night, with little good sleep, and marched without incident until four P.M., when we heard the usual cannonade at the front. As soon as the noise of the cannon was heard, then commenced the usual straggling. All have some of course. The attention of our boys was called to a scene upon which we looked with surprise, and which many of our company will never forget. As we passed from the main road to take position on the hill, we saw a man, or what was dressed as a man, in Uncle Sam's clothes, importuned by another to join his command. He would not budge; and the concluding words we heard as we passed by, were: "Damn it, man! just look here: look at this regiment going in; there is not a man there; they are all boys with no hair on their faces, and you afraid!" We pitied the fellow, and often wondered if he joined his company. His pride had evidently gone on a furlough. We halted on a high hill, from which we could see all that was going on, and soon found we were in reserve, which pleased us all. After getting turnips and sweet potatoes,—of which we found a plenty (all planted for us),—we straggled to the edge of the bluff and watched the fight. In a tree close to where we stood was a signal station, and by that we supposed Gen. Foster was near. On the left we could see the railroad which leads into Goldsboro, and the fighting over it; to the right, the bridge; while in front, close to the river, there seemed to be a continuous sheet of flame from our advance and the rebels. Some of our men worked their way to the mill; and a story was told by one of the 17th Mass. Vols., who reached the bridge on his own account, that he saw a train of cars stop there, and, just as it halted, a shot from one of our batteries struck the engine in the head-plate, smashing the engine badly. He could see men jump from the cars in all haste. (This story was told several years after the action; and the fact of those men coming as they did, and perhaps others behind, may have been the reason we left so suddenly, and went to New Berne.)

About seven o'clock Gen. Foster rode past our line, saying: "The object of the expedition [the burning of the bridge and partially destroying the connection between the Gulf States and Richmond] is accomplished. We are going to New Berne."

We were immediately formed, and started on the back track with cheers for the general; but we had not gone three miles before we found we were not "out of the woods." Orders came to countermarch, so we turned about, wondering what all the artillery firing meant. We tramped back about two miles or so through the woods, on fire on both sides of the road, turned to the left down hill, and formed line in silence, waiting. We were not allowed to speak or light our pipes, but waited, it seemed, for two hours. The regiment was formed in division column closed in mass; the company behind us being only a few feet away, and in front nothing but the pickets and supposable rebels. After staying here a while we heard the artillery go along the road, and soon followed. We reached camp about ten o'clock, tired and hungry, but no chance to get anything to eat, and a man missing. He turned up afterwards, having settled himself for a nap when we were in the woods. Not finding any one near when he awakened, he concluded to strike out for himself—happily remembering that old broken caisson beside the road, and recollecting on which side he left it on going in, he soon came Russelling" into camp with the rest of us.

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. 27-8

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, December 20, 1862

After some trouble we managed to get to bed last night about eleven o'clock; but for a long time after that the mules kept us awake; perhaps they were hungry also. The weather was clear and not cold, so we got a little rest. At six o'clock this morning we were ordered on, after a very light breakfast, excepting for a few who may have foraged. There were a few chickens and a little applejack about our mess. To-day has been the hardest of any day of the tramp, and there has been more straggling. The company organization was in the line, but thinned out terribly. We had no noon-rest; but at two o'clock we filed from the road to a field, came to the front, and received a good scolding. Our regiment looked as if it had been through two Bull Runs; only about 150 left, and the rest not "accounted for." In fact there were very few left of those who should do the accounting. The colonel stormed a little, but that did not bring up the men; so, as he was probably as hungry, if not as tired, as we were, he let us go to eating, which was a decided farce. Our haversacks were as flat as our stomachs. We found a few grains of coffee and tobacco-crumbs in the bottom of our bags, and succeeded in digging a few sweet potatoes, which we ate raw. We were told they were very fullsome. We waited here two hours or so for the stragglers, who finally came along. They had been having a fine time, plenty of room to walk, and two hours more to do it in than we had; and, more than that, they were in the majority, so nothing could be done but "Right shoulder shift" and put the best foot forward. About sundown we saw, in crossing a bridge, a wagon-load of hard-tack bottom side up in the creek. Some of the boys sampled the bread, but it was not fit to eat. Shortly after a signboard indicated fourteen miles to New Berne. That was encouraging! The walking was fearful, the roads full of water, in some places waist deep, and covered with a skimming of ice. At last we met a wagon loaded with bread, and after much talk with the driver we got what we wanted. Next we met a man who said it was only twelve miles to New Berne. They either have long miles or else some one made a mistake; we seemingly had been walking two hours or more from the fourteenth mile post, and now it was twelve miles. We came to the conclusion not to ask any more questions, but "go it blind.”

We at last reached the picket-post, seven miles out, and halted to rest and allow the artillery to go through. Here Col. Lee told us we were at liberty to stay out and come into camp Sunday; but most of "E" thought of the letters and the supper we would probably get, and concluded to stand by the flag. After a rest we started again, and at last began to close up and halt often, so we knew we were coming to some place or other.

The writer has no very distinct idea of those last seven miles, excepting that he was trying to walk, smoke, and go to sleep at the same time, and could only succeed in swearing rather faintly, and in a stupid sort of manner, at everything and every one. It was dark and foggy, but finally we saw what appeared to be the headlight of a locomotive a long way off. Then the fort loomed up, and we were passing under an arch or bridge, and in a few minutes we reached "E's" barrack, and our troubles were all forgotten. Now we were wide awake; gave three hearty cheers for every one; had all the baked beans and coffee we could stagger under; and then the captain's "Attention for letters" brought us to our feet. Some had as many as a dozen. They had to be read at once, and, notwithstanding our fatigue and the lateness of the hour, read they were.

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. 29-30

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne: Sunday, October 12, 1862

Relay House Station, on the Northern Central R. R. Just where that is I haven't yet found out. We stood up or laid down in the street from noon yesterday until 3 a. M. this morning, when cars came and we went on board. They are box cars, no seats, but they have a roof, and that is what we most needed. We shivered and shook so our teeth chattered when we first got on board, and it was 5 A. M. before the train started. We were no longer curious to know where we were going. We were wet, cold, hungry and thirsty, and from lying on the pavements were so stiff we could hardly get on our feet. The major had to give it up—his leg was hurt worse than he thought. We are sorry not to have him along, for next to Colonel Smith, he is the most soldierly soldier in the regiment. Our two days' rations are gone and we are wondering when we will get another feed.

Noon. We are at Hanover Junction, Pa. We now feel sure we are after the rebel horse thieves, but unless we get a faster move on than this, they will get away with all the horses in the country before we get there. We are waiting for further orders from General Wool. The 144th N. Y. just stopped here, on their way to Baltimore. They are just out, and to hear them complain about being kept on the cars a whole day and night made us laugh.

5 p.m. We are full once more. Doesn't seem as if we could ever get hungry again after the feed we have just had. We are at Hanover, Pa. As the train stopped it seemed as if the whole population were standing beside the track, and nearly everyone had a basket of eatables or a pail of coffee. Men, women and children were there and they seemed to enjoy seeing us eat, even urging us to eat more, after we had stuffed ourselves, and then told us to put the rest in our haversacks. But they are terribly scared at the near approach of the rebel cavalry. We told them to fear no more. We were there, and the memory of the feast we had had would make us their special defenders. They distributed tracts among us, some of them printed sermons, and wound up by asking us to join them in singing the long-meter doxology. We not only sang it, we shouted it; each one took his own key and time, and some, I for one,—got through in time to hear the last line from the others. We left them with cheers and blessings that drowned the noise of the train, and I prayed that if I ever got stranded it might be in Hanover.

GETTYSBURG, PA. Night. The train has stopped outside the village, and a citizen says the Rebs are just out of the village on the opposite side. It is pitch dark and the orders are to show no lights and to keep very still. I have a candle and am squatted in the corner of the car trying to keep my diary going.

The officers are parading up and down along the train trying to enforce the order to be quiet. I am hovering over my candle so it won't be seen, for I must write, for fear I won't get a better chance.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 48-50

Diary of Corporal John W. Dennett, December 16, 1862

After getting a little coffee and hard-tack, we started for our old camp at Potomac Creek. Arrived there at noon, and found the camp occupied by wagon-train of the First Army Corps. It rained hard all day.

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. 270-1

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, December 12, 1862

Called up at six this morning; rather stiff in our joints, but still able to have our beds made. We hear this morning that some one took a couple of prisoners last night.

To-day we marched about eighteen miles, camping at nine P.M. No excitement of any kind all day, except hearing of a number of prisoners being taken. Our camp to-night is in a cotton-field, for a change, on the right of the road. And for novelty we try individual fires. Our mess, of about eight, found plenty of rails, but had to get three lots of water, for as fast as one lot would get hot enough for the coffee some one would hit the rail, and over all would go; spoiling our fire and water too. Finally, by ten o'clock, we managed to get supper; then agreed to take turns watching the fire and our spare rails, which we were afraid we should lose. One of the guards falling asleep, our fire went out, also the balance of our rails; but some one foraged around, finding three good ones, and sat on them till morning, that we might have a warm breakfast.

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. 24

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Wednesday, November 27, 1861

The battery left Muddy Branch, with the understanding to go into winter-quarters near Poolesville.

We were told that we should have many drills together with Battery B, no longer Captain Vaughan's battery, who, having had disagreements, left the service. We marched by nine o'clock in the morning. The weather was very unpleasant, raining and freezing all day. Passed through Poolesville at four o'clock, and commenced to pitch tents by five o'clock. Our camp is next to Battery B's, commanded by Lieutenant Perry. We had a good reception by the men, who treated all of us to coffee.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, p. 26-7