Diary of Private Seth J. Wells: Sunday, November 9, 1862

We marched about fifteen miles today and arrived at La Grange, three miles west of Grand Junction. It is dry and very dusty. Sometimes the dust was so thick we could not see the ground. That and the smoke and heat from the burning fences was almost intolerable. We passed miles and miles of burnt and burning fences, fired by troops in advance. Large and fine farms and plantations were laid waste. We met fully forty teams of four and six mules each, loaded with wenches and young woolly heads, and all their personal effects, and in fact all they could smuggle from their masters. Ask them where they are going and they will tell you, "You folks sent's to Bolivar, don't know where wes goin' from thar." I blistered my feet badly on the march. We hear that Hollow Springs is evacuated. We have very stringent orders in regard to stealing. Everything has to be paid for by the division when it cannot be traced to the company, regiment or brigade of the persons committing the theft. I hope they will be enforced.

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. 12

Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, July 8, 1863

Yesterday we made short marches, halting at every good shade to rest. The heat was very oppressive. At Clinton a brigade was sent to meet the enemy, reported to be advancing on the Raymond road. The force in pursuit is said to be close up. Cheering news from General Lee's army to-day. At nine o'clock arrived at Jackson in a heavy storm, which raised the dust in great quantities as we marched through the streets, and the rain followed about the time we reached our camping place, a mile east of the city. It is probable that the place will be evacuated as soon as the stores can be sent off—probably to-morrow; but no one knows where this army is going. Old Joe is too old to tell anybody that.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 217

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne: Saturday, October 4, 1862

Battalion-drill again. Learning to be a soldier is hard work. There has been no rain lately and the sun has dried up everything. There are no green fields here as we have at home. The ground is sandy, and where there is grass, it is only a single stem in a place, with bare ground all round it. So many feet tread it all to dust, which the wind blows all over us, but mostly in our faces and eyes. The road past our camp is a mire of the finest dust, and as hard to travel through as so much mud. We eat it with our rations, and breathe it all the day long. It covers everything, in our tents as well as outside. Our clean new tents are already taking on the universal muddy, red color of everything in sight. The only good thing about it is, it serves every one alike, piling upon the officers just as it does on the men. We are getting to feel quite proud of ourselves as soldiers. We learn fast under the teaching of Colonel Smith. The 135th N. Y. and a Mass. regiment are with us on battalion-drill and sometimes several other regiments, so that we about cover the large plain out near the bay. We get tougher and harder every day. The fodder we so often find fault with, and the hard work we are doing, is making us hard, like the work and the fare is.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 44

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne: Sunday, October 5, 1862

On picket again to-day. We are at a new place, on the road to Frederick, but not as far out as Catonsville. It is plain to see it is only for practice, for we are only a little way from camp, and the other posts are far beyond us. Cavalry pickets are said to be farther out still. May be it is to give us a rest, for that it certainly does. We are out of the dust, our duties are light and the day after picket is also a day of rest. We also get fresh vegetables, which are a treat for us now-a-days.

Night. We have had a day of rest. Two hours on post and the next four at liberty to loaf in the shade, is not hard work. We are in a lonely place, no houses near us, but we have had what we needed, a real rest-up.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 44-5

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne: Friday, October 10, 1862

The air is full of rumors to-day that we are to go somewhere, and that very soon, yet no one seems to be able to trace them. Experience has taught us that we won't know for certain when we go until we start, nor where we go until we get there. Train-loads of soldiers keep going past, and have been going past nearly every day since we came here. Seems to me I never saw such a dry place. Everything is so coated with dust it is impossible to tell its original color. From appearances, the country all about us is dried up and dead. A wounded soldier has been here from the hospital. He was at Antietam—was shot through the arm, which is still in a sling. But the most wonderful thing was that as he was going off the field another ball hit him, or rather hit a pocket Testament in his breast pocket, and was stopped against the back cover, after going through the front cover and the rest of the book. He had both the ball and the Testament to show. What a sermon could be preached with that book and bullet for a text!

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 47

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, Wednesday, September 24, 1862

New tents were given us to-day. "A" tents they are called; I suppose because they are in the shape of a letter A. They are like the roof of a house cut off at the eaves, and one gable split open for us to enter, with strings sewed fast to one side and buttonholes in the other so we can close them up tight. A detail from each company has been clearing up the ground and laying out for an all winter stay. The officers have moved back to the more level portion of the field, which brings our lines of tents on much better ground than before. A long and wide street has been laid out and is being graded off, on the west side of which the officers' tents are ranged, the colonel's tent in the middle and a little in the rear of the tents of the captains and lieutenants, which are directly in front of their respective companies. On a line with Colonel Cowles' tent are those of the lieutenant colonel (which by the way has no occupant yet, he being off somewhere on detached service), the major, quartermaster, adjutant, surgeon and chaplain. Back of these is a big tent called the Hospital, which so far has not been of much use. Then in front of all these are the companies' quarters, the ten company streets running off at right angles to the broad street along which the company officers' tents are now being placed. A wide space is left in front of Colonel Cowles' tent, and runs clear through camp, nothing being on it but a flag-pole, which is to stand directly in front of the colonel's tent and in line with the tents of the company officers. So many hands make light work of any job, but I am only telling how it is to be, for only the laying out is completed and the grading begun.

We that were not detailed for the work were taken out to the great sandy plain toward what I am told is Chesapeake Bay and given a lesson in battalion-drill.

The 135th N. Y. was with us, and from the crowds of people who were there I suppose battalion drill is something worth seeing. But it was anything but fun for us, and we came back to camp hungry, tired, and with as much dust on us as would stick. We were glad enough to crawl into our old shelter tents. It is well I wrote the most of the day's doings before we went out, for it is hard work to put this little finish to it. Good-night, diary.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 37-8

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, June 1, 1864

Between Chickahominy and Pamunky Rivers, Va.,

June 1, 1864.

Your letters of the 24th and 26th ult. both reached me last night. The mails seem to be more regular now than for some time past.

There was not much fighting yesterday. It was only skirmishing. A few men were wounded in our brigade, only one of them being in my regiment. About an hour ago I heard heavy musketry on the extreme right of our lines, but it was far to the right of our division. We have every confidence that we shall be able to hold Richmond this summer. General Lee has an enormous army here now, and we all hope that Grant will attack us as soon as possible.

Jack Teague wrote me that Jim Spearman had been conscripted and assigned to light duty. Jack is very anxious for me to return to South Carolina as soon as possible, but it is no use to hand in a resignation at such busy times as these. I may send it in, though, whenever we get quiet again, so that it will be attended to. The longer I delay it the more apt it is to be accepted.

I was glad to know that you have the wool for my suit. I was proud of my old brown suit of last winter, but when I get a Confederate gray I shall be proud of it, sure enough. I have not drawn any money since last January, but as soon as I do I will replenish your purse. I should like so much to see your catskin shoes.

The weather is becoming quite warm. The dust is very bad and we are needing rain again. I have not seen your brother for several days, but suppose he is well. I have nothing more of importance to write at present, but will write you again to-morrow.

SOURCE: Dr. Spencer G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 99-100

Diary of Private Louis Leon: June 25-30, 1863

 Marched on, passed through Leesburg, Canada, Hockinsville, and Centerville, all small villages. We got to Carlisle, Pa., at sundown. Marched 21 miles to-day. This city is certainly a beautiful place. It has 8,000 inhabitants, and we were treated very good by the ladies. They thought we would do as their soldiers do, burn every place we passed through, but when we told them the strict orders of General Lee they were rejoiced. Our regiment was provost guard in the city, but were relieved by the 21st Georgia Regiment, and we went to camp at the U. S. barracks. So far we have lived very good in the enemy's country. We stayed here until the 30th, when we took the Baltimore pike road, crossed South Mountain at Holly Gap, passed through Papertown and Petersburg. We then left the Pike and took the Gettysburg road-17 miles to-day. This has been a hard day for us, as we were the rear guard of the division, and it was very hot, close and very dusty, and a terrible job to keep the stragglers up.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 33-4

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: September 29, 1864

Bright and beautiful.

As I walked down to the department, heavy and brisk cannonading below assailed the ear. It was different from the ordinary daily shelling, and to my familiar senses, it could only be a BATTLE. The sounds continued, and even at my desk in the department the vibrations were very perceptible.

About 10 o'clock, when walking down Main Street (the cannon still heard), I met Robert Tyler and Mr. Foote, member of Congress, the latter in some excitement, denouncing the management of affairs by the Executive. He said if Richmond were lost, he should move that the people take matters in their own hands, and proclaim a DICTATOR. Mr. Tyler, commanding his temper, banteringly told him that he ran some risk of being arrested, tried by drum-head court-martial, and shot, before night. Mr. Foote whirled away, repeating his desperate purpose; and Tyler repeating, more gravely, that he might be arrested for treasonable language-and ought to be.

Mr. Tyler then invited me to join him at breakfast at a neighboring restaurant, where we had each a loaf of bread, a cup of coffee with milk (but brown sugar), and three eggs. The bill was sixteen dollars!

When I returned to the department, information came that the enemy had captured Fort Harrison (Signal Hill), near Chaffin's Bluff, and were advancing toward the city. From that moment much excitement sprung up (the greatest I have ever known here), and all the local organizations were immediately ordered out. Not only this, but squads of guards were sent into the streets everywhere with orders to arrest every able-bodied man they met, regardless of papers; and this produced a consternation among the civilians. The offices and government shops were closed, and the toesin sounded for hours, by order of the Governor, frightening some of the women.

At 2 P. M. the fight was nearer, and it was reported that the enemy were at the intermediate fortifications—three miles distant.

From the observatory on the War Department we could see the puffs of white smoke from our guns; but these were at the intermediate line, several miles distant, and the enemy were, of course, beyond. We could see our cannon firing from right to left at least a mile in length; and the enemy had evidently made much progress toward the city. The firing then ceased, however, at 3 P.M., indicating that the enemy had withdrawn from that point; but the booming of artillery was still heard farther to the right on or near the river. And this continued until the present writing, 5 P.M. We have no particulars; but it is reported that the enemy were handsomely repulsed. Clouds of dust can be seen with the telescope in that direction, which appears to the naked eye to be smoke. It arises no doubt from the march of troops, sent by Gen. Lee. We must soon have something definite from the scene of action.

Half-past five P.M. Gen. Ewell dispatches that the enemy's attack on Fort Gilmer (five miles below the same we saw) was handsomely repulsed.

A dispatch from Gen. Pemberton, on Williamsburg Road, says there is no immediate danger there.

Another dispatch from Georgia says Forrest has captured 800 more men somewhere in Alabama, on the railroad.

At night, distant cannon heard. Gen. Ewell said in his last dispatch that as soon as certain reinforcements came up he would take the offensive, attacking the enemy. The conflict recedes, and I presume he is driving the enemy back.

Mr. Foote intimates that the President will not return to Richmond, and did not intend to return.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 294-6

Diary of Private Louis Leon: May 21, 1863

Left this morning, marched twenty-one miles, halted at 5.30. It is a very hilly country, warm and dusty.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 28

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Wednesday, September 16, 1863

Early this morning we are off for Corinth, moving over the old familiar highway. Oh! how dusty; the rising clouds almost hide the sun. We arrive at Corinth about noon, hungry, tired, sleepy and miserably dirty. The soldiers are soon perusing the papers, which seem to tell us that the long dark night of war is waning. The shouts from the soldiers that roll from the camp to-night are: “Hurrah for Gilmore!” and “More Greek fire for Charleston!”

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 192

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Thursday, October 1, 1863

It is still raining this morning and in lieu of dust we have mud. We are now fifty miles from Corinth, whither the advance is headed. We arrive at Purdy at 2 P. M., where we find Captain Clark with Company “D” barricaded in the old court house, where they had been sent yesterday with an ambulance and some sick soldiers. Captain Clark informs us that he was attacked by the guerrillas, but by determined resistance stood the ground against twice his number. Being well protected no casualties occurred. We halt in the outskirts of the town and feed, after which we proceed on our way towards Corinth. Arrive in camp 10 P. M., very much worn by the hard day's ride.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 197

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Sunday, September 13, 1863

This morning by sun-rise we are moving. The advance encounters a squad of Newsom's band at Jack Creek, which is soon put to flight. One company is now left with the teams, and the command dashes forward, but soon comes to a halt. A dust is discovered ahead. One company is dismounted and deployed forward, but no enemy is seen; all are now far away in the brush. The regiment now hastens on as fast as possible to Johnson's mill. Here, also, our advance encounters a lurking band, which quickly makes its exit. We halt here for dinner, after which the soldiers commence on the mill, and soon it is destroyed. No more guerrilla bands will ever grind their corn here. The command is now divided, and ordered to leave Johnson's mill in different directions, and after scouring the woods for miles around, the different detachments and companies concentrate, but as soon as done a squad of guerrillas dashes across the road and fire into our rear as they pass. But their buck and small shot pass harmlessly over our heads. The regiment moves on slowly and camps for the night on Forked Deer, five miles from Henderson. Tonight our pickets decoy and capture a rebel Major, a conscript officer.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 189-90

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Thursday, July 16, 1863

This morning Dick leads the Seventh forth again, heading for West Tennessee. Soon we are winding through the Mississippi forests. The weather is exceedingly warm, and oh! how dusty the roads. None can form any clear conception of the beauty of a ride in July save those who have witnessed in this month a regiment of cavalry or mounted infantry dashing along a Mississippi or Tennessee highway. Arriving at Hamburg, Tennessee river, about dark, we go into camp for the night.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 179

Captain William M. Duncan to Mary Morgan Duncan, September 7, 1862

Springfield, Sept. 7th.  I never had better health in my life, though we had a hard time[.] While marching from Sedalia to this place—a distance of One Hundred and twenty five miles, which we marched in six days over the most hilly and dusty roads I ever say.  This is doubtless to the poorest country in the west.  The drought has nearly ruined the crops, and it looks little like subsisting a large army here through the winter.

Our troops nearly famished for water on their march, and the roads were so dusty that none could scarcely tell the color of our cloths or even the color of the men.  After crossing the Osage River, we commenced climbing the Ozark Mountains, and had nothing but hills, hollows and rocks from their to Springfield.

Take it, all in all, it is one of the most God-forsaken countries I ever saw.  War has destroyed every thing in its way, houses [tenantless], fences burned, and orchards destroyed.  You can scarcely see a man in a day’s travel, unless it is some old man unable to do any thing.

– Published in The Union Sentinel, Osceola, Iowa, Saturday, October 18, 1862, p. 2

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: July 4, 1864

Cloudy, but still hot and dry.

From the clouds of dust seen rising between Petersburg and the James River, it is conjectured that Grant's army is in motion.

The Federal Congress has authorized the drafting of 200,000 more men, after 60 days' fruitless attempt to raise volunteers. So it will be September before the draft, and January before the men will be soldiers.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 244

Major Charles Wright Wills: May 3, 1865

Right Bank Roanoke river, Robbin's Ferry, N. C.

May 3, 1865.

About 20 miles to-day and the latter fourth quite dusty. We did not get the main road, and have depended mainly on hog paths. The Roanoke is the largest stream we have crossed since leaving the Tennessee river, and is quite swift. The water is also colder than any we have found this march. We have not pontoons enough to reach across and will have to press ferryboats and skiffs, etc., to use as pontoons. Presume it will take all night to get up a bridge. We pontooned the Neuse when we crossed it the last time in one and one-half hours. As we crossed the Raleigh and Gorton Railroad today, saw a train of cars coming kiting along. Expect communication is open to Raleigh by this time. We are marching too hard. It is using up lots of men. Good country today. Many fine houses and every indication of wealth.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 376

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Thursday, June 12, 1862

This morning we are soon on the march, moving in the direction of Corinth. Oh! how hot and dusty; we seem to be moving through one vast hot cloud of dust, and what adds more to the suffering of the soldier, is the scarcity of water. We come to a halt, with orders to rest for the night, for the soldiers are weary.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 80

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Monday, June 9, 1862

This morning we still remain undisturbed in our bower camp. Troops are hourly passing us, moving southward.

The roads are very dusty; water is becoming scarcer; what we have is of an inferior quality; we need rain very much.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 79-80

Diary of Colonel Rutherford B. Hayes: Tuesday, June 14, 1864

[We] marched [from Lexington] to Buchanan. A hot, dusty march, twenty-four miles. Bathed in James River. The next day [we pushed on] to "Fancy Farm," Bedford County, near Liberty, sixteen miles. Fine views of Peaks of Otter.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 2, p. 474