Diary of Private Louis Leon: September 16, 1863

To-day there was a man shot for desertion. Eight balls passed through him. The way this is conducted is the brigade that he belongs to, or sometimes even the division, is drawn up in full sight of the doomed man. He is tied to a stake in front of his grave, which is already dug, and his coffin at his side. There is a squad of twelve men and one officer detailed to do the shooting. Eleven of the guns are loaded. The guns are given to them by the officer, so that no man knows which gun is loaded. The order is then given to fire. Thus ends the deserter's life. The brigade, or division, then marches around him, so that every man can see his, the deserter's, end.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 47-8

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, March 5, 1863

Camp near Rappahannock River, Va.,

March 5, 1863.

Edwin, Jim Allen and Ben Strother took dinner with me yesterday, and I think I gave them a pretty good dinner for camp. We had biscuit, excellent ham, fried potatoes, rice, light bread, butter, stewed fruit and sugar. They ate heartily, as soldiers always do. Edwin is not suffering from his wound, but on account of it he is privileged to have his baggage hauled.

A man was shot near our regiment last Sunday for desertion. It was a very solemn scene. The condemned man was seated on his coffin with his hands tied across his breast. A file of twelve soldiers was brought up to within six feet of him, and at the command a volley was fired right into his breast. He was hit by but one ball, because eleven of the guns were loaded with powder only. This was done so that no man can be certain that he killed him. If he was, the thought of it might always be painful to him. I have seen men marched through the camps under guard with boards on their backs which were labeled, "I am a coward," or "I am a thief," or "I am a shirker from battle," and I saw one man tied hand and foot astride the neck of a cannon and exposed to view for sixteen hours. These severe punishments seem necessary to preserve discipline.

We have no prospect of a fight now whatever, but if the weather continues dry and pleasant it may come soon. We are too well entrenched for them to attack us here, but it is hard to tell what these crazy, fanatical Yankees intend to do.

Our troops are all in fine health. We seldom send a man to the hospital now, but when we were on the Chickahominy River near Richmond we sent from five to twelve each day. I trust we will be exposed to no greater danger in the future than the bullets, for they do not compare in destructiveness with disease. Captain Hunt's company has lost seven men from bullets and twenty-five from disease, and in most of the companies the difference is greater than this.

The weather for the last three or four days has been very windy and blustering and characteristic of March. It was intensely cold last night, but to-day the sun broke out and it is pleasant.

I am anxious to see George. I know he is a charming little fellow.

SOURCE: Dr. Spenser G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 44-6

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Thursday, July 23, 1863

This morning orders are issued for all the troops in and around Corinth to be paraded on the review ground by eight o'clock, A. M., to witness the execution of one Johnson, a deserter from Company A, First Alabama Union Cavalry. At the appointed time all the troops are on the ground and in position. The sun shines intensely hot, and the tramp of infantry and the galloping of horsemen keeps in the wind one dense cloud of smoke. Soon the procession with the unfortunate man appears upon the ground. They march slowly along the division line, the doomed man walking, supported by the Chaplain of the Sixty-sixth Indiana. He has the appearance of a guilty man—guilty of deserting the flag and his comrades. After the procession has passed the line, they march to the place of execution; the deserter is placed upon his coffin in a sitting position. A solemn and impressive prayer is offered by the Chaplain after which he is blindfolded. The executioners take their position, the Provost Marshal gives the command, and the man who so unhappily erred from the path of duty is launched into eternity. May his ignominious death prove a warning to all who might peradventure be tempted to do likewise.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 180-1