Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, April 15, 1863

I have allowed a huge gap to occur in this Diary, for which I can offer a poor excuse. I have been sick with head-ache for about three weeks, until a few days ago, when it left me, and simultaneously with its departure disappeared also the feeling of lassitude with which I have been almost prostrated; but I again feel my usual flow of spirits and a desire to place on record the doings of the Forty-first. Since the bombardment of this place on the night of the 14th of March, our daily life has been somewhat interesting, compared with what it was before. The Yankee vessels remained below the point a week or ten days, occasionally throwing a shell into our midst, and finally disappeared entirely; but soon after our old acquaintance, the "Essex," hove in sight, evidently with the intention of paying us a protracted visit. During the last month, our regiment has been worked every day at the rate of two hundred and fifty men to the detail, and, when not on fatigue duty, we have drilled constantly. Our rations have improved greatly in quality, but not in quantity. We now draw bacon, meal, rice, sugar, molasses and peas, and fish are also very plentiful, but dear. For a while, after the poor Texas beef gave out, we drew spoilt pork, but it was preferable.

During the intervals between the appearance of the Yankee vessels, we have managed to pass off the time very well. The weather has been beautiful, and our minds have been kept about as busy as our hands, between hope and expectation—hope that we may get marching orders, while we have been anxiously expecting the re-appearance of the Yankee fleet. As yet no marching orders have come for us, but the gunboats have made their appearance above and below. The first intimation we had of their coming was from an order for the regiment to take position on the river bank, to act as sharpshooters during the engagement. The fleet above, after a stay of a few days, during which they sent up rockets and fired signal guns to the lower fleet, steamed up the river. After being gone over a week, they re-appeared a few days since. The situation now is: we are menaced above by three formidable vessels, while the fleet below is in plain view and very busy. The probability is that an attack may be made at any hour. We are ready for them.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 165-6

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: August 31, 1864

 Bright and pleasant.

The only news to-day was a dispatch from Gen. Hood, stating that the enemy had left Holly Springs, Miss., for the Mississippi River, supposed to reinforce Sherman, whose communications are certainly cut. It seems to me that Sherman must be doomed. Forces are gathering from every quarter around him, and it is over 200 miles to Mobile, if he has any idea to force his way thitherward.

Attended an auction to-day. Prices of furniture, clothing, etc. still mounting higher.

Common salt herrings are at $16 per dozen; salt shad, $8 a piece. Our agent was heard from to-day. He has no flour yet, but we still have hopes of getting some.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 275

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: May 22, 1864

Clear and warm, but the atmosphere is charged with the smoke and dust of contending armies. The sun shines but dimly.

Custis was with us last night, and returned to camp at 5 A.M. to-day. He gets from government only a small loaf of corn bread and a herring a day. We send him something, however, every other morning. His appetite is voracious, and he has not taken cold. He loathes the camp life, and some of the associates he meets in his mess, but is sustained by the vicissitudes and excitements of the hour, and the conviction that the crisis must be over soon.

Last night there was furious shelling down the river, supposed to be a night attack by Butler, which, no doubt, Beauregard anticipated. Result not heard.

The enemy's cavalry were at Milford yesterday, but did no mischief, as our stores had been moved back to Chesterfield depot, and a raid on Hanover C. H. was repulsed. Lee was also attacked yesterday evening, and repulsed the enemy. It is said Ewell is now engaged in a flank movement, and the GREAT FINAL battle may be looked for immediately.

Breckinridge is at Hanover Junction, with other troops. So the war rolls on toward this capital, and yet Lee's headquarters remain in Spottsylvania. A few days more must tell the story. If he cuts Grant's communications, I should not be surprised if that desperate general attempted a bold dash on toward Richmond. I don't think he could take the city-and he would be between two fires

I saw some of the enemy's wounded this morning, brought down in the cars, dreadfully mutilated. Some had lost a leg and arm— besides sustaining other injuries. But they were cheerful, and uttered not a groan in the removal to the hospital.

Flour is selling as high as $400 per barrel, and meal at $125 per bushel. The roads have been cut in so many places, and so frequently, that no provisions have come in, except for the army. But the hoarding speculators have abundance hidden.

The Piedmont Road, from Danville, Va., to Greensborough, is completed, and now that we have two lines of communication with the South, it may be hoped that this famine will be of only short duration. They are cutting wheat in Georgia and Alabama, and new flour will be ground from the growing grain in Virginia in little more than a month. God help us, if relief come not speedily! A great victory would be the speediest way.

My garden looks well, but affords nothing yet except salad.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 216-7

Diary of Corporal David L. Day: April 24, 1863

ALL QUIET ON THE ROANOKE.

The noise of the battle is over and we are longer harassed by war's dread alarms, but can now sit down, eat our fresh shad and herring and drink our peach and honey in peace and quiet.

A BROKER'S OFFICE.

Our provost marshal, Major Bartholomew of the 27th Massachusetts, has opened a broker's office, where he is exchanging salt and amnesty for allegiance oaths, and as this is the fishing season, he is driving a right smart business. The natives for miles around come in droves, take the oath, get their amnesty papers and an order for salt, and after being cautioned not to be found breaking their allegiance they go away happy. There are probably some honest men among them who would like to do about right if they dared to, but the whole thing looks ludicrous, for there is evidently not one in a hundred of them who would ever think of taking the oath were it not for the hope of obtaining a little salt. The boys call it the salt oath.

SOURCE: David L. Day, My Diary of Rambles with the 25th Mass. Volunteer Infantry, p. 89-90

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: March 12, 1864

It cleared away yesterday evening, and this morning, after the dispersion of a fog, the sun shone out in great glory, and the day was bright, calm, and pleasant. The trees begin to exhibit buds, and the grass is quite green.

My wife received a letter to-day from Mrs. Marling, Raleigh, N. C., containing some collard seed, which was immediately sown in a bed already prepared. And a friend sent us some fresh pork spare ribs and chine, and four heads of cabbage—so that we shall have subsistence for several days. My income, including Custis's, is not less, now, than $600 per month, or $7200 per annum; but we are still poor, with flour at $300 per barrel; meal, $50 per bushel; and even fresh fish at $5 per pound. A market-woman asked $5 to-day for a half pint of snap beans, to plant.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 170

Diary of 5th Sergeant Osborn H. Oldroyd: May 30, 1863

Moved this morning at four o'clock back again towards Vicksburg—rather an early start, unless some special business awaits us. A few surmise that there is need for us at the front, but I think it is only a freak of General Frank Blair, who is in command of our excursion party. The day has been hot, and we have been rushed forward as though the salvation of the Union depended upon our forced march. I am not a constitutional grumbler, but I fail to understand why we have been trotted through this sultry Yazoo bottom where pure air seems to be a stranger. Probably our commander wants to get us out of it as soon as posible. A few of the men have been oppressed with the heat, and good water is very scarce. This seems to be a very rich soil, made up no doubt of river deposits. A ridge runs parallel with the river, and it is on that elevation all the plantation buildings are located, overlooking the rich country around. The Yazoo river is a very sluggish stream and said to be quite deep. The darkies claim it is “dun full of cat-fish.” I think we may probably have fresh, fish, but not till we catch Vicksburg, and then only in case we are allowed to take a rest, for I presume there will then turn up some other stronghold for Grant and his army to take, and for which we shall have to be off as soon as this job is ended. We camped at dark, after a severe and long march, and it is now raining very hard.

SOURCE: Osborn Hamiline Oldroyd, A Soldier's Story of the Siege of Vicksburg, p. 38-9

Diary of 1st Sergeant John L. Ransom: December 15, 1864

Jocko's hut was not across the river as I supposed and wrote yesterday, but on the same side we were on. At about ten o'clock last night we went to his abiding place as directed and knocked. After a long time an old black head was stuck out of the window with a nightcap on. The owner of the head didn't know Jocko or anything about him; was short and crusty; said: “Go way from Dar” Kept talking to him and he scolding at being disturbed. Said he had rheumatics and couldn't get out to let us in. After a long time opened the door and we set down on the door step. Told him we were yankees and wanted help. Was the funniest darky we have met yet. Would give something for his picture as he was framed in his window in the moonlight talking to us, with the picturesque surroundings, and us yankees trying to win him over to aid us. Finally owned up that he was Jocko, but said he couldn't row us across the river. He was lame and could not walk, had no boat, and if he had the river was so swift he couldn't get us across, and if it wasn't swift, the rebels would catch him at it and hang him. Talked a long time and with much teasing. By degrees his scruples gave way, one at a time. Didn't know but he might row us across if he only had a boat, and finally didn't know but he could find a boat To get thus far into his good graces took at least three hours. Went looking around and found an old scow, fixed up some old cars, and we got in; before doing so however, he had warmed up enough to give us some boiled sweet potatoes and cold baked fish. Rowed us way down the river and landed us on the noted Miller plantation and a mile in rear of the negro houses. Jocko, after we forced our acquaintance on him with all kind of argument, proved to be a smart able bodied old negro, but awful afraid of being caught helping runaways. Would give something for his picture as he appeared to us looking out of his cabin window. Just an old fashioned, genuine negro, and so black that charcoal would make a white mark on him. Took us probably three miles from his hut, two miles of water and one of land, and then started back home after shaking us a dozen times by the hand, and “God blessing us.” Said “Ole Massa Miller's niggers all Union niggers,” and to go up to the huts in broad day light and they would help us. No whites at home on the plantation. We arrived where Jocko left us an hour or so before daylight, and lay down to sleep until light. I woke up after a while feeling wet, and found the tide had risen and we were surrounded with water; woke up the boys and scrambled out of that in a hurry, going through two feet of water in some places. The spot where we had laid down was a higher piece of ground than that adjoining. Got on to dry land and proceeded to get dry. At about ten o'clock Dave went up to the negro huts and made himself known, which was hard work. The negroes are all afraid that we are rebels and trying to get them into a scrape, but after we once get them thoroughly satisfied that we are genuine Yanks they are all right, and will do anything for us. The negroes have shown us the big house, there being no whites around, they having left to escape the coming Yankee army. We went up into the cupola and looked way off on the ocean, and saw our own noble gunboats. What would we give to be aboard of them? Their close proximity makes us discuss the feasibility of going down the river and out to them, but the negroes say there are chain boats across the river farther down, and picketed. Still it makes us anxious, our being so near, and we have decided to go down the river to night in a boat and see if we can't reach them It is now the middle of the afternoon and we lay off from the huts eighty rods, and the negroes are about to bring us some dinner. During the night we traveled over oyster beds by the acre, artificial ones, and they cut our feet. Negroes say there are two other runaways hid a mile off and they are going to bring them to our abiding place. Later, — Negroes have just fed us with corn bread and a kind of fish about the size of sardines, boiled by the kettle full, and they are nice. Fully as good as sardines. Think I know now where nearly all the imported sardines come from. Negroes catch them by the thousand, in nets, put them in kettles, and cook them a few minutes, when they are ready to eat. Scoop them out of the creeks The two other runaways are here with us. They are out of the 3d Ohio Cavalry. Have been out in the woods for two weeks. Escaped from Blackshear and traveled this far. I used to know one of them in Savannah. We do not take to them at all, as they are not of our kind. Shall separate to night, they going their way and we going ours. Have secured a dug-out boat to go down the Ogechee River with to-night. The negroes tell us of a Mr. Kimball, a white man, living up the country fifteen miles, who is a Union man and helps runaways, or any one of Union proclivities. He lays up the river, and our gunboats lay down the river. Both have wonderful charms for us, and shall decide before night which route to take. Are on rice plantation, and a valuable one. Before the “wall” there were over fifteen hundred negroes on this place. Cotton is also part of the production. Have decided to go down the river and try to reach our gunboats It's two very hazardous undertaking, and I have my doubts as to its successful termination.

SOURCE: John L. Ransom, Andersonville Diary, p. 141-3

Diary of John Beauchamp Jones: October 5, 1863

It is now said that Meade's army has not retired, and that two corps of it have not been sent to Rosecrans. Well, we shall know more soon, for Lee is preparing for a movement. It may occur this week.

In the West it is said Gen. Johnston is working his way, with a few brigades, from Meridian towards Nashville.

Lieut.-Gen. E. Kirby Smith writes for authority to make appointments and promotions in the trans-Mississippi Army, as its “communications with Richmond are permanently interrupted.” The President indorses that he has no authority to delegate the power of appointing, as that is fixed by the constitution; but he will do anything in his power to facilitate the wishes of the general. The general writes that such delegation is a “military necessity.”

The Enquirer and the Dispatch have come out in opposition to the fixing of maximum prices for articles of necessity, by either the Legislature of the State or by Congress. It is charged against these papers, with what justice I know not, that the proprietors of both are realizing profits from speculation.

To-day I got a fine shin-bone (for soup) for $1. I obtained it at the government shop; in the market I was asked $5.50 for one. We had a good dinner, and something left over for tomorrow.

SOURCE: John Beauchamp Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary at the Confederate States Capital, Volume 2, p. 62

Captain Charles Wright Wills: May 4, 1864

Whiteside, May 4, 1864.

The day's march has been much more pleasant than any of us expected. Most of the dead mules have been buried, and the road much improved, especially through the narrows. We smelled a number of mules, though, after all the improvements. This, Whiteside, is like Bridgeport, a portable town, with canvas covers and clapboard sides.

The boys have been catching some nice fish in a little stream by our camp this evening. Made about 15 miles to-day.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 233

Diary of John Hay: June 24, 1864

To-day a Resolution came from the Senate asking information about War and Treasury Orders concerning exportation of arms to Mexico. I did not like to act without consulting Seward, so took the papers to him, asking if it would be well to send copies to Secretaries of War and Treasury or not. He said, — “Yes! send the Resolution to the Secretary of War; a copy to the Secretary of the Treasury; asking reports from them, and then when the reports are in, ———

“Did you ever hear Webster's recipe for cooking a cod? He was a great fisherman and fond of cod. Some one once asking him the best way to prepare a cod for the table, he said: — ‘Denude your cod of his scales — cut him open carefully — put him in a pot of cold water — heat it until your fork can pass easily through the fish — take him out — spread good fresh butter over him liberally, — sprinkle salt on the butter — pepper on the salt — and — send for George Ashman and me.’”

“When the Reports are in, let me see them!”

He got up, stumped around the room enjoying his joke, then said: — “Our friends are very anxious to get into a war with France, using this Mexican business for that purpose. They don't consider that England and France would surely be together in that event. France has the whip hand of England completely. England got out of the Mexican business into which she had been deceived by France, by virtue of our having nothing to do with it. They have since been kept apart by good management; and our people are laboring to unite them again by making war on France. Worse than that, instead of doing something effective, if we must fight, they are for making mouths and shaking fists at France, warning and threatening and inducing her to prepare for our attack when it comes.”

Carpenter, the artist, who is painting the picture of the “Reading the Proclamation,” says that Seward protested earnestly against that act being taken as the central and crowning act of the administration. He says slavery was destroyed years ago; the formation of the Republican party destroyed slavery; the anti-slavery acts of this administration are merely incidental. Their great work is the preservation of the Union, and, in that, the saving of popular government for the world. The scene which should have been taken was the Cabinet Meeting in the Navy Department when it was resolved to relieve Fort Sumter. That was the significant act of the Administration: — the act which determined the fact that Republican institutions were worth fighting for. . . . .

SOURCES: Abstracted from Clara B. Hay, Letters of John Hay and Extracts from Diary, Volume 1, p. 210-12. See Michael Burlingame & John R. Turner Ettlinger, Editors, Inside Lincoln’s White House: The Complete War Diary of John Hay, p. 211-2 for the full diary entry.

Diary of 1st Lieutenant John S. Morgan: Saturday, June 10, 1865

Soon as breakfast over finish loading com. stores. No of blls bread lost by breaking open at 2, P. M. turned in, land on the island of Brazos at the city of Brazos Santiago about 4 small houses, all the water used is condensed. ration 1 gal per day, plenty of fish, hear the sad news that the Col Lt Col & adjt of Regt were bathing, the tide carried them out, the Lt Col was saved by his servt but the Col & Adjt were lost

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, 33rd Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, 3rd Series, Vol. 13, No. 8, April 1923, p. 605