Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty: July 8, 1861

This morning, at seven o'clock, our tents were struck, and, with General McClellan and staff in advance, we moved to Middle Fork bridge. It was here that Captain Lawson's skirmish on Saturday had occurred. The man killed had been buried by the Fourth Ohio before our arrival. Almost every house along the road is deserted by the men, the women sometimes remaining. The few Union men of this section have, for weeks past, been hiding away in the hills. Now the secessionists have taken to the woods. The utmost bitterness of feeling exists between the two. A man was found to-day, within a half mile of this camp, with his head cut off and entrails ripped out, probably a Union man who had been hounded down and killed. The Dutch regiment (McCook's), when it took possession of the bridge, had a slight skirmish with the enemy, and, I learn, killed two men. On the day after to-morrow I apprehend the first great battle will be fought in Western Virginia.

I ate breakfast in Buckhannon at six o'clock A. M., and now, at six o'clock P. M. am awaiting my second meal.

The boys, I ascertain, searched one secession house on the road, and found three guns and a small amount of ammunition. The guns were hunting pieces, all loaded. The woman of the house was very indignant, and spoke in disrespectful terms of the Union men of the neighborhood, whom she suspected of instigating the search. She said she "had come from a higher sphere than they, and would not lay down with dogs." She was an Eastern Virginia woman, and, although poor as a church mouse, thought herself superior to West Virginia people. As an indication of this lady's refinement and loyalty, it is only necessary to say that a day or two before she had displayed a secession flag made, as she very frankly told the soldiers, of the tail of an old shirt, with J. D. and S. C. on it, the letters standing for Jefferson Davis and the Southern Confederacy.

Four or five thousand men are encamped here, huddled together in a little circular valley, with high hills surrounding. A company of cavalry is just going by my tent on the road toward Beverly, probably to watch the front.

As we were leaving camp this morning, an officer of an Ohio regiment rode at break-neck speed along the line, inquiring for General McClellan, and yelling, as he passed, that four companies of the regiment to which he belongs had been surrounded at Glendale, by twelve hundred secessionists, under O. Jennings Wise. Our men, misapprehending the statement, thought Buckhannon had been attacked, and were in a great state of excitement.

The officers of General Schleich's staff were with me on to-day's march, and the younger members, Captains Hunter and Dubois, got off whatever poetry they had in them of a military cast. "On Linden when the sun was low," was recited to the hills of Western Virginia in a manner that must have touched even the stoniest of them. I could think of nothing but "There was a sound of revelry by night," and as this was not particularly applicable to the occasion, owing to the exceeding brightness of the sun, and the entire absence of all revelry, I thought best not to astonish my companions by exhibiting my knowledge of the poets.

West Virginia hogs are the longest, lankest, boniest animals in creation. I am reminded of this by that broth of an Irish lad, Conway, who says, in substance, and with a broad Celtic accent, that their noses have to be sharpened every morning to enable them to pick a living among the rocks.

Colonel Marrow informs me that an attack is apprehended to-night. We have sent out strong pickets. The cannon are so placed as to shoot up the road. Our regiment is to form on the left of the turnpike, and the Dutch regiment on the right, in case the secession forces should be bold enough to come down on us.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 16-8

 

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: February 4, 1865

Clear, but rained last night.

From the South we learn that Sherman is marching on Branchville, and that Beauregard is at Augusta.

The great struggle will be in Virginia, south of Richmond, and both sides will gather up their forces for that event.

We can probably get men enough, if we can feed them.

The City Council is having green "old field pine" wood brought in on the Fredericksburg railroad, to sell to citizens at $80 per cord a speculation.

The Quartermaster's Department is also bringing in large quantities of wood, costing the government about $40 per cord. Prior to the 1st inst., the Quartermaster's Department commuted officer's (themselves) allowance of wood at $130 per cord!

The President still suffers, but is said to be "better."

Yesterday much of the day was consumed by Congress in displaying a new flag for the Confederacy—before the old one is worn out! Idiots!

I have just seen on file a characteristic letter from Major-Gen. Butler, of which this is a literal copy:

HEADQUARTERS DEPT. VA. and N. C.,            

ARMY OF THE JAMES IN THE FIELD,  

FORTRESS MONROE, Oct. 9th, 1864.

HON. ROBT. OULD-SIR:

 

An attempt was made this morning by private Roucher, Co. B, 5th Penna. cavalry, to commit a rape upon the persons of Mrs. Minzer and Mrs. Anderson, living on the Darbytown Road.

 

On the outrage being discovered, he broke through the picket line, and filed for your lines. Our soldiers chased him, but were unable to overtake him.

 

I have therefore the honor to request that you will return him, that I may inflict the punishment which his dastardly offense merits. I cannot be responsible for the good conduct of my soldiers, if they are to find protection from punishment by entering your lines.

I have the honor to be, your obt. servt.,

 

(Signed)                                    B. F. BUTLER,                    

Major-Gen. Comd'g and Com. for Exchange.

The ladies were Virginians.

I got my barrel (2 bags) flour to-day; 1 bushel meal, ½ bushel peas, ½ bushel potatoes ($50 per bushel); and feel pretty well. Major Maynard, Quartermaster, has promised a load of wood... Will these last until ——? I believe I would make a good commissary.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 408-9

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, August 8, 1861

"I am monarch of all I survey." Last night, intelligence being received that an attack was expected on Washington; we were ordered to move there instanter, and at once the regiment was in motion. It got off in the course of the night, leaving me here in charge of about forty men who were too sick to be moved. I am left without provisions or money, except a few pounds of flour with which to feed and care for the sick, and the ten well ones left with me, to aid me and to look up deserters who have been left here. How am I to do it? I find a strong secession element here, and at times it is very bold. The hurrahs for Jeff. Davis are frequent, and all day the children are flaunting secession flags in our faces, and flying secession kites in our camp ground

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. 10

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: January 4, 1865

Bright, but several inches of snow fell last night.

The President wrote a long letter to the Secretary yesterday concerning the assignment of conscripts in Western North Carolina, at most only a few hundred, and the appointment of officers, etc. A small subject.

Congress has passed a resolution calling on the Secretary of War for information concerning certain youths, alleged to have received passports to Europe, etc. Also one relating to the Commissary-General's traffic in Eastern North Carolina, within the enemy's lines. Also one relating to instructions to Gen. Smith, trans-Mississippi Department, who assumes control of matters pertaining to the Treasury Department.

General J. S. Preston, Superintendent Bureau of Conscription, writes a long letter from South Carolina indorsing an act of the Legislature authorizing the impressment of one-fifth of the slaves between eighteen and fifty, for work on the fortifications within the State, but also providing for impressment of an additional number by the Confederate States Government. This, Gen. P. considers a treasonable move, indicating that South Carolina, North Carolina, Alabama, Mississippi, etc. have a purpose to disintegrate Confederate authority, and that they will not contribute another man, black or white, to the Confederate service, to be commanded by Confederate States authority. And he has several thrusts at Gen. Bragg and Gen. Kemper, and, indirectly, at the President, for interfering with his bureau. I see nothing in the act to warrant his interpretations, and I have no faith in his predictions.

W. F. D. Saussure and others, Columbia, S. C., petition the government to send a corps of Lee's army to save their State and Georgia from devastation, as there are no adequate forces in them for defense. They confess that Richmond is important to hold, but insist that Georgia and South Carolina must be defended to hold it, etc. They are frightened evidently.

Gen. Withers, Alabama, denounces the inefficiency of the conscript system.

Lieut. Beverly Kermon writes from the Rappahannock that "thus far (to Jan. 1st) our movements (in connection with Capt. T. N. Conrad) are perfectly secret." The next day he was to go to the Potomac. What has the Secretary sent him there for?

J. R. Bledsoe presents a design for a "new flag," red, white, and blue cross, which Gen. Lee thinks both original and beautiful. Judge Campbell has a box of clothing, sent from London by J. B. Bloodgood.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 375-6

William Blount Carter to Brigadier-General George H. Thomas, October 27, 1861

NEAR KINGSTON, ROANE COUNTY, TENNESSEE,        

October 27, 1861. (Received November 4.)

General THOMAS:

SIR: I am now within a few miles of our railroad, but I have not yet had time to obtain all the information I must have before I decide on the course best for me to adopt. If I can get half a dozen brave men to “take the bull by the horns,” we can whip them completely and save the railroad. If I cannot get such leaders, we will make a desperate attempt to destroy all the bridges, and I firmly believe I will be successful.

There are 1,400 rebel troops at Knoxville, some poorly armed, some not armed, and many of them sick. There are 160 at the Loudon Bridge. I know of no other troops in East Tennessee except the 300 about whom I wrote to you from Montgomery. They have gone to Wolf River.

Zollicoffer has 6,000 men all told; 1,000 of these are sick; 600 or 800 are not armed; 1,600 of the 6,000 are at Cumberland Gap; the balance beyond the gap.

Our enemies here are very uneasy for the safety of Zollicoffer, and have been calling on Davis for help; but, as I am informed, Davis says he is so pressed on the Potomac that he can spare none of the Virginia troops.

I can gain no reliable information from Kentucky by way of Nashville. I hear of no troops passing over our railroad.

We hear, by way of Knoxville, that Garrard has driven Zollicoffer back 6 miles. I suppose it is true, as secessionists tell it.

This whole country is in a wretched condition; a perfect despotism reigns here. The Union men of East Tennessee are longing and praying for the hour when they can break their fetters. The loyalty of our people increases with the oppressions they have to bear. Men and women weep for joy when I merely hint to them that the day of our deliverance is at hand. I have not seen a secession flag since I entered the State. I beg you to hasten on to our help, as we are about to create a great diversion in General McClellan's favor. It seems to me, if you would ask it, he would spare you at once 5,000 or 10,000 well-drilled troops. Will you not ask for more help?

I know you will excuse a civilian for making suggestions to a military man, when you remember that I am risking my life and that I am about to ask my people to do the same. I find more deficiency in arms in this part of East Tennessee than I expected. You must bring some small-arms with you. I am satisfied that you will have to take the road by Monticello and Jamestown, unless you come by Cumberland Gap.

I can assure you that whoever is the leader of a successful expedition into East Tennessee will receive from these people a crown of glory of which any one might well be proud, and I know of no one on whom I would more cheerfully bestow that crown than on yourself.

I regret that I can give you no more information, but I will communicate with you as circumstances may require. Perhaps it would be well for you to let General McClellan know that I have reached East Tennesee, as I know he is very anxious for my success.

I write in great haste, but believe you may rely on all I have written.

Very respectfully, your obedient servant,

WM. BLOUNT CARTER.

SOURCE: The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Series I, Volume 4 (Serial No. 4), p. 320

Diary of Sergeant David L. Day: February 29, 1864

SECESH LADIES.

Most of the residents in town are women and small children, and a few old men. Of course the colored people are with us always. All the men being away makes society for the ladies a little one-sided. At the evacuation most of the women remained here to take care of their property, and there are very few empty houses. These ladies pretend to have a great contempt for Yankees, but still they don't appear to have quite enough to prevent their talking or chatting with us. On Sunny days they may be seen at the windows or on the verandas, and a passing soldier who touches his cap in a respectful manner will perhaps get an invitation to call. If he conducts himself with propriety and is agreeable, they will ask him to be seated or perhaps ask him into the house, and on leaving, if he happens to suit them, they will invite him to call again, but some of them are not always so agreeable that a second call is desirable. These ladies pride themselves on being the regular F. F. V's, and have a great pride of birth and ancestry; they will sit by the hour and talk and boast of it. They claim to be the real thoroughbreds and can trace their lineage in a direct line right straight back to William and Mary.

One day, while a party of them were talking that kind of nonsense and making right smart of fun of the mixed Yankee race, I said: “So far as anything that I know to the contrary that may all be as you say, but if appearances go for anything one would naturally conclude that some of the colored people about here might boast that some of William's and Mary's blood coursed through their veins.” That seemed to bring a sort of coldnessover the meetin', and I began to suspect that I had seriously offended, but they soon rallied and the conversation drifted into other and more agreeable channels.

Some of the ladies are very agreeable conversationalists when they converse on something besides politics and secession, but what they say does not disturb me. I rather enjoy it, and have the fun of laughing at them. One day, in company with a party of them, they were having right smart of fun, laughing and making sport of the Yankees. I kept my end up as well as I could against such odds until they tired of it, when they switched off into secession and the war. On a table lay a small Confederate flag which one of them took up, and flaunting it around asked me how I liked the looks of it, remarking that it would finally triumph. I said that was no novelty to me, I had had the honor of helping capture quite a number of those things, “That does not represent anything, ladies; if you take any pleasure in keeping that little flag to look at occasionally as a curiosity, I presume there is no one who has the slightest objection, but be sure of one thing, you will never again see it floating in the breeze in this town.”

One replied: “You seem to feel pretty secure in your holding here, but it would not take a large force of our troops to set you Yankees scampering towards Fortress Monroe."

“I know, but whatever force it might take, your people don't care to pay the cost of retaking it. Your people have too many other jobs on hand at present, and a good prospect of having more to take much trouble about this place, besides it is of no use to them anyway and but very little use to us."

Some of the women here seem to think it a mark of loyalty to their cause to exhibit all the contempt they can towards the Yankees. I fell in with a party of that kind one afternoon out in the churchyard. I sometimes go in there and spend an hour looking around and scraping the moss off those ancient stones to find names and dates, and I have found some that date back into the 17th century. In this yard are some 20 or 30 mounds beneath which sleep the Confederate dead, killed in the battle here or brought from other fields; at any rate they are here and the mounds are kept covered with flowers and evergreens. while looking around there a party of women entered, bringing wreaths of evergreen and commenced decorating those graves.

I approached to within a respectful distance and watched them perform their sad rites of love and affection. When they had finished one of them, pointing at me, addressed me in this beautiful language: “But for you, you vile, miserable Yankees, these brave men would now be adorning their homes.”

Not knowing exactly whether they would or not, or just how much of an adornment they would have been, I deemed the most fitting reply to that crazed woman was dignified silence.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 130-1

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