Diary of Private Lewis C. Paxson, Friday, March 13, 1863

Messenger arrived. Furloughs for Corporal Jos. E. Faverow and Corporal Benj. F. Rawalt.

SOURCE: Lewis C. Paxson, Diary of Lewis C. Paxson: Stockton, N.J., 1862-1865, p. 14

Diary of Elvira J. Powers, Saturday, April 16, 1864

I find many very interesting cases here, some of which shall wait to see the finale before making note of them.

What seems to me a strange feature, as I become more familiar with death-bed scenes, is the fact that so few know they are dying or are even dangerous, but persist with the last breath, or until the last struggle, that they are "getting better."

One poor young boy from Georgia, by the name of Ashman, who must die, although he eats nothing except a few canned peaches and milk, which I carry to him, will tell me sometimes when I go into the tent, that he is expecting a can of peaches every minute from home, and at another that he has just heard that his mother is in town, and that if he really knew she was, he would'nt lie there a great while before he'd be hunting her up. At another, he asked my name and State, and whether I took him to be a man or only a little boy. He is a slight little fellow of about 18, but in answer to the question I told him that of course I considered one really a man who could be a soldier and fight for our country, and who could be so good and patient while sick. To-day he called me to him, as soon as I entered the tent, and asked if I "could'nt discharge him to-day—that the doctor had told him to ask me about it, and that whatever I said he might do."

I told him that I would discharge him just as soon as that limb of his got well, and reminded him that he would want to be able to walk to the cars before starting home. He has a bad abscess on his limb, from which the doctor says the flesh is sloughing, and he does not expect him to live through tonight. And yet the boy wants me to "write to his mother in Atlanta, Georgia, and tell her to write to his aunt Shady, in Butler," that he "has been sick, but is getting better."

One man—G. W. Crane, of 3d Missouri Infantry, and who is called Major, was given up the day before yesterday by Dr. R.

He complained greatly of his throat, and I have since kept wet bandages on it, greatly to his relief. I asked permission of the doctor to do this, and advice as to telling him of his danger. He thought it would be well to do so, as he might wish to make some business arrangements. It was a most unwelcome task, but I believed it best; and first, asked him if he would like a letter written to his people.

"Oh no," was the reply, I shall be able to write myself in a few days."

"Perhaps you may," I said, "but we are all in more or less danger when sick." Adding as gently as possible, "How would you feel about it, if you thought you were not going to get well?"

The queries seemed cruel, but I knew he had loaned a gold watch and money to a man, and thought he might wish to at tend to that and other matters. But he said decidedly "I do not think anything about it, as I have no doubt I shall soon be up again. And Madam," he added politely, "it would afford me great pleasure to talk with you, if I were feeling well and in good spirits you know, but my throat is so bad it hurts me to talk”

After this rebuff, and being really undecided as to duty in the matter, I left him. Yesterday I found him living, but evidently near his end, and I felt that I ought to let him know his condition. First, I asked as before about writing letters, when he said with great difficulty that he did'nt wish to talk with me as it distressed him to speak. I then said I would only ask him one or two questions and then leave him, and I said:

If the doctor and all thought you could not live, would you wish to know it?"

He said "No," decidedly.

"Well then," I said "I will not trouble you any more, but if at any time you wish letters written, you can send me word by the nurse.”

I left him and he died in about an hour. He called for water, but as the nurse raised him to give it, he exclaimed "I am dying," and then gave some incoherent charge, in which the nurse distinguished the words; "the lady" and "a letter."

His request has been complied with.

Mrs. F. was relating a similar incident to me the other evening. Dr. F. was at the depot in Nashville, when an old acquaintance was found there, who had been ill, had received a sick furlough, and was to take the cars for home. He was so feeble, he was persuaded to go to a hospital to remain over night, and take the train next day. In the course of the evening there was a change, and the physician knew he could live but a short time. He knew also that were he aware of the truth he would wish to send some message to his family. The man was speaking of his home and laying plans for the future, when the physician asked if he should'nt write a letter for him to his wife.

"Why no," he replied, "what need of that when I'm to start home tomorrow?"

"You may not go then," said the doctor.

"Oh, yes," I must start tomorrow," was the reply.

The surgeon did not answer immediately, but was sadly thinking how to do so, and regarding the countenance of his friend, when the patient, who was about talking more of his plans, suddenly paused upon observing the expression of the surgeon's face, and earnestly asked:

"Doctor—you do not think me very sick, do you?"

"I do," was the sad reply.

"But doctor you don't think me dangerous?"

"I think you a very sick man."

He lay silent for a few moments while thought was busy, and then asked:

"Am I about to cross the lines, doctor?"

Tears, and the simple "I think you are," was the answer.

Then was business arranged, messages given, and they were alone again. Then he said:

"Why, doctor is this all that death is? It's nothing at all to die."

And thus he "crossed the lines."

SOURCE: Elvira J. Powers, Hospital Pencillings: Being a Diary While in Jefferson General Hospital, Jeffersonville, Ind., and Others at Nashville, Tennessee, as Matron and Visitor, pp. 43-7

Diary of Musician David Lane, October 7, 1863

Colonel Luce is going home again, on furlough, to recruit. He takes with him three officers of the line and ten Sergeants—one from each company. They are to be gone sixty days. If enlisting is "played out," as many claim, sending men from active service for the purpose of soliciting enlistments is the height of folly. Perhaps there is so little for us to do just now, we may as well be in Michigan as Tennessee. If that is so, why not send all of us home?

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 102

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop, Saturday, August 8, 1864

No sick call; the poor fellows are disappointed. Well dressed officers ride out the street and back. Passing near us they inquire of a fellow who is whittling a bone: "What State you from, young man?"

"Massachusetts."

"Do you rather live here than in Massachusetts?"

"No, sir."

"Well, you'll be apt to live out your days here, for there'll be no exchange till the war closes and that won't be in ten years if Lincoln is your next President."

"There'll not be a corporal's guard left of this crowd before that time, Colonel," remarked the other.

Before they reached the gate they halted to buy a watch, and a few of us followed up and I asked:

"Colonel, will you come back into the Union if Lincoln is not elected?"

"Ho, ho! You Yankees are not fighting for the Union; that's your mistake. It's the nigger you want."

"If McClellan is elected will the South come into the Union?" I repeated.

"Ah, the Union! The Union's gone up!"

By this time the Major had got the watch by paying $100 in "Confed" and they spurred up. We are often taunted by the slur that we are no better than niggers. They say:

"You fight with niggers; you think it's all right to fight us with niggers."

We retort by saying that it is no worse for a nigger to fight with us than to work for them, and that they would put a gun in his hands if they dared. It is not so bad for them to be hunted by niggers as it is for us to be hunted helpless and half starved, by blood hounds.

A little after noon a man shot and killed. I hastened and learned that he was dipping water from the brook. The sentinel had been observed to be closely watching. The ball passed through the forehead, tearing out his brains. The guard was immediately relieved by the officer of the day as they all are when they make a sure fire. It is a story never denied that for every Yankee killed a furlough is granted. In a few minutes a stretcher smeared with blood and brains bore another Yankee to the dead house.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 102

Diary of Private Lewis C. Paxson, Monday, February 9, 1863

Snowy and warm. Singing school. Baldwin did not get permission to go home after all, as Sibley grants no more furloughs.

SOURCE: Lewis C. Paxson, Diary of Lewis C. Paxson: Stockton, N.J., 1862-1865, p. 12

Diary of Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty, December 1, 1861

Sunday has just slipped away. Parson Strong attempted to get an audience; but a corporal's guard, for numbers, were all who desired to be ministered to in spiritual things.

The Colonel spends much of his time in Louisville. He complains bitterly because the company officers do not remain in camp, and yet fails to set them a good example in this regard. We have succeeded poorly in holding our men. Quite a number dodged off while the boat was lying at the landing in Cincinnati, and still more managed to get through the guard lines and have gone to Louisville. The invincible Corporal Casey has not yet put in an appearance.

The boys of the Sixth Ohio are exceedingly jubilant; the entire regiment has been allowed a furlough for six days. This was done to satisfy the men, who had become mutinous because they were not permitted to stop at Cincinnati on their way hither.

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, p. 85

Diary of Private Lewis C. Paxson, Thursday, January 1, 1863

I gave Lowe stamp. I sent a Sioux skull home to father, Lambertville, N. J., by express from St. Cloud. Oysters, 25c. Three rat skins, 75c. Captain Atkinson gone home on furlough.

SOURCE: Lewis C. Paxson, Diary of Lewis C. Paxson: Stockton, N.J., 1862-1865, p. 10

Cadet William T. Sherman to John Sherman, September 15, 1838

WEST POINT, N.Y., Sept. 15, 1838.

Dear Brother:

I did go to the salt works, as I proposed when you were at home, and was there three or four days. While there I made arrangements to go with the Misses Clark to a relative of theirs (Mr. Walker), from thence to Beverly; but unfortunately it rained, and we got several duckings before we got to Mr. W.'s (twelve miles), and when there was told it was thirty miles farther. Consequently I was obliged, much against my wish, to relinquish my design of visiting you. After a few days' stay at the salt works, we returned to Lancaster. When I had been home a few days grandma and Taylor1 came down from Mansfield on the way to Dayton. Mother, Lamp,2 and I accompanied them, and had a very fine trip. Lamp and I went to Oxford College to see Phil,3 from there to Cincinnati, where I stayed a couple of days, then returned to Dayton, where I found them all ready to return home. We travelled together until we got to Columbus, where we found Mr. Ewing. Mother and the rest went on home. Phil and I remained until the next day, and then went home in the carriage. My furlough had nearly expired, and I could only stay home two days more, at the end of which time James,4 grandma, and I went to Mansfield, where we found them all well except Mr. Parker, who was not very well. We stopped at Mary's and Uncle John's a few minutes on our way up. From Mansfield I went with Taylor in his buggy to Sandusky on the lake. We stopped all night at Uncle Daniel's, whom I saw for the first time. He is a very fine old man, but I do not think he resembles father (if you recollect him). From Sandusky I went to Buffalo by water, then to Niagara Falls, thence to New York City, where I spent two days with our relatives, then to West Point, where I have been a little more than two weeks studying very hard indeed.

Your affectionate brother,

W. T. SHERMAN.

_______________

¹ His eldest brother, afterwards called Charles.

² A younger brother, Lampson.

³ Philemon Ewing, eldest son of Hon. Thomas Ewing.

⁴ Still another brother.

SOURCE: Rachel Sherman Thorndike, Editor, The Sherman Letters: Correspondence Between General and Senator Sherman from 1837 to 1891, pp. 4-5

Governor Rutherford B. Hayes to D. W. C. Wilson, December 29, 1869

COLUMBUS, December 29, 1869.

DEAR SIR:—I thank you for your kind favor of the 17th inst. I will now give you a few of the facts which I have ascertained bearing upon the merits of Leroy's claim.

I. N. J. Leroy re-enlisted as a veteran January 1, 1864, and was at Cleveland and at home on a veteran furlough in Febuary, 1864, and at the end of his furlough borrowed money of a comrade to enable him to return to his regiment.

2. After his return to his regiment he was paid only once prior to his death, and the amount paid was $169.75.

3. The rest of his pay and bounty due from the Government was paid to his "legal representatives" after his death, amounting to $365.

4. His local bounty due from the town of Youngstown was paid after his death to his mother, amounting to ——.

These facts I have from three sources, viz., the first from his comrades in Cleveland; the second, third, and fourth from certificates of the proper officers of which I enclose you copies.

I think you will now agree with me that the only remaining question in this matter is, whether your townsman, James Leroy, has been himself deceived, or whether he is guilty of an attempt to defraud?

Sincerely,

R. B. HAYES.

HONORABLE D. W. C. WILSON,
        Sparta, Wisconsin.

SOURCE: Charles Richard Williams, editor, Diary and Letters of Rutherford Birchard Hayes, Volume 3, pp. 79-80

Diary of 4th Corporal Bartlett Yancey Malone, January 15, 1863

And the 15 day was warm but very winday and R. H. Wells started home this morning on a furlogh

SOURCE: Bartlett Yancey Malone, The Diary of Bartlett Yancey Malone, p. 28

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, November 5, 1861

I have for some time had as mess-mates Surgeon J—— V—— and his two sons. I find him a most estimable Quaker gentleman, and he is by his courteous and affable manner, doing very much to smooth down the asperities of the rough road over which I am now traveling. Since the removal of camp, the sickness is abating rapidly. The list, which two weeks ago numbered over two hundred, is now less than sixty, and every day diminishing. I have much trouble in getting my assistant to perform his duties, which, with the constant interference of military officers, greatly embarrasses me in my course. We have to pass some trying scenes. Last week a private in our regiment, a lawyer from ———, heard of the sickness of his daughter. He asked a furlough of thirty days to visit her. The officers here granted it, but when it reached General McClellan he cut it down to fifteen days, which would but give him time to go and return. He declined to go on it, and yesterday intelligence of his daughter's death reached him. Oh, how much I thought of this, and thought if it were my case! 'Tis very sad to think of.

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, pp. 49-50

Diary of Dr. Alfred L. Castleman, November 14, 1861

This morning our Brigade Surgeon ordered me to leave the hospital for a few days, on account of my fatigue and prostration. He said that a regard for my health demanded it, and I must go where I pleased. I rode to Arlington, the headquarters of General King. The Arlington house, I believe, is (unless confiscated) the property of Gen. Lee. It is a magnificent mansion, overlooking Georgetown, Washington, Alexandria, and miles of the beautiful Potomac. In a room of this house, said to have been a favorite room of General Washington, I found my old friend Surgeon ———,badly broken by the fatigue and excitement of the campaign. I called on him, in company with Doctor A——, and after talking of his illness for half an hour, Doctor A. proposed to him to have my advice, to which he replied "Yes! if he will not medicate me too much." I said, "Doctor, I will prescribe for you, and with a single dose will medicate every fibre of your body, and by a healthy shock, restore you to health at once." With a look as if he thought me a hyena, he asked: "What do you mean to do with me?" "To take you out of this place and put you for thirty days under the care of your wife and family." The poor suffering man grasped my hand, burst into tears and sobbed aloud, "My Colonel won't consent to it." For a moment, forgetting his religion, and not having the fear of military commanders before my eyes, "Your Colonel may go to the d-vil, and you shall have a furlough." I rode immediately to medical headquarters in Washington, procured him the promise of a furlough as soon as his papers could be sent in, returned, informed him of it, and had the pleasure on my long night ride back to camp, of feeling that I had contributed something to the happines, and, perhaps, had saved the life of a good and worthy man. How easy for any man, however humble his position, to find opportunities of doing good, if he will only wear the "spectacles of benevolence."

After the vandalism I have witnessed in the destruction of property, in and about the houses of rebels and elsewhere, it was a pleasurable relief to find here, that General King, in the goodness of his always good heart, had enforced respect for the property and furniture. The garden, with its fences, is preserved, and the walls of almost every room in this immense old building, are covered with the rich paintings and old family pictures, left hanging when this favorite of rebeldom left his home. The garden is fine, but I think does not compare with that of Kalorama. The antique bureaus and [s]ide-boards calling up impressions of generations long passed away, are still tenants of the building; and the halls recall Scott's fine description of the Halls of the Douglass, where the arms of the hunters, and the trophies of the hunt, mingled with the trappings of the warrior, constituted the attractive features of the chieftain's forest home. Over the halls, and at every angle in the stairs, were the antlers of the elk and the red-deer fastened to the walls and nearly interlocking their branches over my head as I walked through. They were hung, too, with the arms of the hunter and the warrior. So perfectly does this position command Washington, that had the rebels there secretly collected a dozen mortars, they might have fired the city before a gun could have been brought to bear on them. Everybody is talking of a prospect of a move within three days, but the origin of the reports I know not; perhaps in the impatience of the army to be led forward.

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, pp. 53-5

Diary of Musician David Lane, August 27, 1863

Nicholasville, Ky. We are again enjoying the quiet of camp life. Our miniature tents are pitched in regular order, streets are policed and brigade guards posted to keep our unruly boys within bounds.

Colonel Luce, five line officers and twenty privates have gone home on furlough—others to Cincinnati on leave of absence. Everything indicates a period of rest. Our boys are trying to make up for their privations "down below." Nearly every tent presents the appearance of a market for the sale of fruit or vegetables.

Potatoes, peaches, apples, cabbages, onions, watermelons and green corn are piled in heaps or lie around loose throughout the camp. Then we have artists, too. Two Daguerian cars are running full blast, where the boys get indifferent pictures at one dollar each. I saw a great curiosity today—a relic of bygone ages. About a mile from camp there is a shop where the old-fashioned spinning wheel is manufactured on quite an extensive scale, and they find a ready sale. This is a fair index to the progress of the people. Their manners, forms of speech and customs all point to past ages. They are very loyal and very friendly when sober, but when filled with corn whiskey, hypocrisy and self-interest take a back seat, and they speak their real sentiments with a frankness and fluency that is not at all flattering to us "Yanks." From what I have seen, I conclude all Kentuckians drink whiskey. There are distilleries in every little town, where the "genuine article" is turned out. I called at a farm house one day for a drink of water. The good woman was catechising her son—a lad of ten or twelve years about ten cents she had given him with which to buy some little notion at the store. She gave me a drink of water, then, turning to the young hopeful, angrily inquired, "But where's that ten cents I gave you?" "I guv five cents to Bill." "Where's the other five?" "Bought my dram with it." The explanation appeared satisfactory.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, pp. 78-9

Diary of Private Lewis C. Paxson: Monday, December 1, 1862

Lieut. Col. Peteler, Second regiment, U. S. Sharpshooters, left this morning on furlough.

SOURCE: Lewis C. Paxson, Diary of Lewis C. Paxson: Stockton, N.J., 1862-1865, p. 9

Diary of Corporal John W. Dennett, Wednesday, March 4, 1863

Capt. Martin's and Lieut. Walcott's wives came from Boston. Corp. Bowman received his furlough papers, and John Churchill his discharge papers. Sergt. L. V. Osgood received his commission as junior second lieutenant. Lieut. Osgood went home on a ten days' furlough. Corp. Bowman was promoted sergeant of the second detachment, Private Prescott was promoted corporal of the fifth detachment, and Private Kelly to corporal of the first detachment. Charlie Donahoe returned from his furlough.

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. 272

Diary of Corporal John W. Dennett, March 19, 1863

Lieut. Walcott and James Daley went home, and Mrs. Walcott and Mrs. Martin went with them. Commenced painting the battery.

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. 273

Diary of Corporal John W. Dennett, March 21, 1863

Weather very cold. Snowed all day and night. Three men from the Sixty-second Pennsylvania Volunteers came to join the battery. Donovan came back from his furlough.

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. 273

Diary of Corporal John W. Dennett, March 23, 1863

Weather pleasant. Cleaned up the park. John Haney went home on a ten days' furlough. Sergt. Goliff, Sergt. George, and Corp. Clark were reduced to the ranks at the first roll-call, for disobedience to orders.

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. 273

Diary of Corporal John W. Dennett, March 24, 1863

Sergt. Brown received his discharge for disability. Sergt. Prescott was promoted sergeant of the first detachment. Private Ransom was promoted corporal of the third detachment. Lieut. Osgood returned from his furlough.

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. 273

Diary of Corporal John W. Dennett, March 31, 1863

Lieut. Walcott and James Daley came back from their furloughs. Daley brought me out my watch.

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. 273