Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: September 3, 1863

For the last month nothing but a dull monotony has reigned in camp, but things are now becoming more lively. The paymaster has made his appearance; green-backs and gray-backs are plentiful. The latter now and then dash from their hiding places in the brush upon the soldiers. Sergeant Leatherman and two men belonging to Company K, while out on a detail, were captured to-day. Companies B, C, E, and K, under the command of Captain Johnson, are now in pursuit of the guerrillas.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 188

Diary of 5th Sergeant Osborn H. Oldroyd: May 29, 1863

“The early bird catches the worm.” We tried the truth of that adage this morning, but failed to make the catch. A few graybacks were seen afar off, but we failed to get within range of them. Where, O where, is General Johnston and the grand army he was to bring against us? We have looked for him in vain. I have the utmost confidence in Grant's judgment and the prestige of his army which has never yet known defeat, but I confess, till now, I have been afraid of some attack in our rear. And why such a thing does not occur is a mystery to me-at least an attempt at it. Day by day Grant is intrenching and pushing nearer to the enemy's works, planting heavy guns and receiving fresh troops, so the opportunity for a saving stroke by the enemy is fast disappearing.

Camped again at dark, within two miles of Mechanicsville, through which we passed, finding all quiet after our cavalry had driven a few rebs beyond the town.

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

Captain Charles Wright Wills: June 28, 1864

June 28, 1864.

The attack was not general; it was made by our brigade and M. L. Smith's Division. We lost nearly one-third of the brigade. Our regiment's loss is 17 killed and 40 wounded. My company had five killed and four wounded. Colonel Wright was shot quite badly in the leg, and Lieutenants Montgomery, Branson and Bailey were killed. In my company Corporals Whittaker, Myers, and Private Sam Mclntyre, Art. Myers, and Jacob Maxwell, were killed Sergeant Breed, Privates Bishop, Frank Breed and James Williamson were wounded. We held all the ground we took (under our fire), but had to leave a few of our dead until dark.

On the p. m. of the 26th Colonel Wright told me that General McPherson and Colonel Walcutt (our brigade commander) had been out through the day examining the ground in front, and that it was in contemplation to carry the southwest spur of the mountain by a charge, and further, that it was not impossible that our brigade would be in as usual. This was kept quiet in the command. About 8 p. m. I was at Colonel Wright's headquarters with several of the officers and we were talking the matter over, when an order came for the colonel to report at brigade headquarters. I believe every one present instantly concluded that we were to fight, and knowing the country before us to be about on a par with Lookout Mountain you can imagine we did not particularly enjoy the prospect. The colonel returned in about an hour. We had all, I believe, fallen asleep. He woke us and said: “Have your men get their breakfasts by daylight; at 6 a. m. the fight will begin on the right, and at 8 a. m. our brigade will, with one from the 1st and 2d divisions, charge a spur of the mountain.” I turned away and after notifying my orderly sergeant to have the men up on time, I turned in. Thought the matter over a little while and after pretty fully concluding “good-bye, vain world,” went to sleep. Before daylight in the morning we were in line, and moving a few hundred yards to the rear of our works, and stacked arms in a grove, which would hide us from the observation of the Rebels on the mountain. You know from where we have been for a few days, we could see them plainly. Cannonading commenced on the right at 6 a. m. and at 7:30 we moved a half or three quarters of a mile along-our lines to the right, after piling our knapsacks and haversacks. A canteen of water was the only extra baggage any one carried. The Rebels caught sight of us as we commenced moving, and opened a battery on us It had the effect to accelerate our movements considerably. Right in front of a Division of the 4th Corps we halted, and rapidly formed our line. While forming the line Corporal Myers of my company was killed by a bullet within six feet of me, and one of Company K's men wounded. I don't know how many more. The ground to be gone over was covered with a dense undergrowth of oak and vines of all kinds binding the dead and live timber and bush together, and making an almost impenetrable abatis. To keep a line in such a place was out of the question. Our skirmishers were sharply engaged from the start, and men commenced falling in the main line; at the same time some 50 of the Rebel skirmish line were captured, and many of them killed. A Rebel lieutenant and five men lay dead, all nearly touching each other.

I understand that they had been summoned to surrender, and were shot either for refusing or before negotiations were completed. Not a man in our regiment knew where the Rebel works were when we started, and I think the most of them found them as I did. I had with my company got within, I think, 60 yards of the Rebel works, and was moving parallel with them. The balls were whistling thick around us, but I could see no enemy ahead.

I did not even think of them being on our flank, until one of the boys said: “Look there, Captain, may I shoot?” I looked to the right, and just across a narrow and deep ravine were the Rebel works, while a confused mass of greybacks were crowding up the ravine. These latter, I suppose, were from their skirmish line, which was very heavy, and trying to escape us. The Rebels in the works were firing vigorously and have no excuse for not annihilating our three left companies K, G and B. The right of the regiment had seen them before and already started for them. I shouted “forward” to my men and we ran down across the ravine, and about one-third the way up the hill on which their works were and then lay down. There was little protection from their fire, though, and if they had done their duty, not a man of us would have got out alive. Our men fired rapidly and kept them well down in their works. It would have been madness to have attempted carrying their works then, for our regiment had not a particle of support, and we were so scattered that we only presented the appearance of a very thin skirmish line. If we had been supported by only one line, I have no doubt but that we would have taken their line of works. Colonel Wright was wounded a few minutes after we got into the hollow, and Frank Lermond came to me and told me I would have to take command of the regiment. I went down to the center and the order was heard to retire. I communicated it to the left and saw nearly all the men out, and then fell back.

I could not find the regiment when I came out, but collected about 30 of our men on the left of the 6th Iowa, and after a while Colonel Wright and Captain Post brought the regiment to where we were, when we formed a brigade line and threw up works within 200 yards of the enemy's, where we remained until 9 p. m., when we returned to the position we occupied in the morning. About 12 of our dead were left in the ravine under the fire of the enemy's guns. But we have as many of their dead as they have of ours. Lieutenant Colonel Barnhill of the 40th Illinois, and Captain Augustine of the 55th Illinois were killed and left on the field. My loss is five killed and four wounded. Two of my dead, Corporal Whittaker and Artemus Myers, were left on the field. Loss in the regiment is 17 killed, 40 wounded. In the brigade 245 killed and wounded. It was a rough affair, but we were not whipped. The prettiest artillery fight I ever saw was over our heads in the evening, about 10 guns on each side.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 268-71

Captain Charles Wright Wills: June 13, 1864

June 13, 1864.

The rain continued until 5 p. m. Everything and everybody thoroughly soaked. Our division moved about one-half mile to the left this p. m. Strategy! We moved out into an open ploughed field. You can imagine the amount of comfort one could enjoy so situated, after two days' constant rain, and the water still coming down in sheets.

The field is trodden into a bed of mortar. No one has ventured a guess of the depth of the mud. It is cold enough for fires and overcoats. My finger nails are as blue as if I had the ague. There is one consolation to be drawn from the cold, it stops the “chigres” from biting us. I would rather have a bushel of fleas and a million of mosquitoes on me than a pint of “chigres,” — don't know the orthography — They are a little bit of a red thing, — just an atom bigger than nothing; they burrow into the skin and cause an itching that beats the regular “camp” all hollow. Some of the men have scars from “chigre” bites that they received at Big Black last summer, and will carry them across the Styx. The ants here also have an affinity for human flesh and are continually reconnoitering us. I kill about 200,000 per day. Also knock some 600 worms off of me. Great country this for small vermin. I pick enough entomological specimens off me every day to start a museum. I do manage to keep clear of greybacks, though.

Every time I commence talking about chigres I feel short of language. I am satisfied of one thing, if my finger nails don't wear out, there'll be no flesh left on my bones by autumn. The case stands finger nails vs. chigres, and skin is the sufferer. Notwithstanding rain, cold or chigres, we are in excellent spirits. Sherman don't tell us anything (in orders) good or bad, but every man feels that we have “a goodly thing” and is content to work and wait. I never heard less complaining, or saw troops in better spirits. If we get to Atlanta in a week all right; if it takes us two months you won't hear this army grumble. We know that “Pap” is running the machine and our confidence in him is unbounded.

We have so far had abundance of rations, but if it comes down to half, we will again say “all right.” Our army is stronger to-day than it ever was in numbers and efficiency. I am sure that there is not a demoralized company in the command. There has been considerable shooting along the front to-day, and the lines have been advanced some, but we are nearly a mile back, and being constantly ready to move. I have not been out, and don't know much about the exact situation. Its something new for our division to be in reserve. Time passes much more quickly in the front. The general opinion is that we are gradually working to the left, and will cross the Chattahoochie about east or northeast of Marietta. We are now 26 miles from Atlanta by railroad and something nearer by pike.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 259-60

Captain Charles Wright Wills: May 2, 1864

West bank of Crow Creek, near Stevenson,

May 2d, 1864.

Only about seven miles from last night's camp, but will have to wait until to-morrow to build a bridge. The creek is some 150 feet wide. Our Pioneer Corps will from the rough put a bridge over it in ten hours, that is to be passed over within the next three days by 800 wagons and 100 cannon of our corps. We reached here about 9 this a. m., and were led into a very large field of prairie grass, standing three feet high and as dry as tinder. A stiff breeze was blowing and the first fire started in our regiment set the grass in our front on a perfect rampage. It run down on the 46th Ohio, and such a grabbing of “traps” and scattering was never before seen, but was equaled about half an hour afterwards when a fire set in our rear came sweeping down on us. We threw our things out on the bare space in our front and escaped with little loss. My drummer had his coat, cap, drum and a pet squirrel burned, and a number of ponchos and small articles were also sent up in smoke. The days are almost like summer, but the nights are rather cool. The trees are about in full leaf and vermin are becoming altogether too numerous. Every man is a vigilance committee on the wood-tick question. They are worse than guerrillas or gray-backs. On an ordinary good "tick day" we capture about ten per capita. They demoralize one tremendously. The boys did some good work fishing in the p. m., catching a number of fine bass, etc.

A surgeon, who I think belongs on some brigade staff, has been stopping at nearly every house visiting, etc., and then rides past us to his place in front. This morning, after a visit he was passing our regiment; as we commenced crossing a little stream his horse got into a hole some four feet deep, stumbled, fell, rolled over, and liked to have finished the doctor. He was under both water and horse. The boys consoled him with a clear 1,000 cheers, groans, and sharp speeches. Anything short of death is a capital joke. I have seen them make sport of a man lying by the roadside in a fit.

SOURCE: Charles Wright Wills, Army Life of an Illinois Soldier, p. 232-3

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Monday, July 13, 1863

The luxury and comfort of New York and Philadelphia strike one as extraordinary after having lately come from Charleston and Richmond. The greenbacks seem to be nearly as good as gold. The streets are as full as possible of well-dressed people, and are crowded with able-bodied civilians capable of bearing arms, who have evidently no intention of doing so. They apparently don't feel the war at all here; and until there is a grand smash with their money, or some other catastrophe to make them feel it, I can easily imagine that they will not be anxious to make peace.

I walked the whole distance of Broadway to the Consul's house, and nothing could exceed the apparent prosperity; the street was covered with banners and placards inviting people to enlist in various high-sounding regiments. Bounties of $550 were offered, and huge pictures hung across the street, on which numbers of ragged greybacks* terror depicted on their features, were being pursued by the Federals.

On returning to the Fifth Avenue, I found all the shopkeepers beginning to close their stores, and I perceived by degrees that there was great alarm about the resistance to the draft which was going on this morning. On reaching the hotel I perceived a whole block of buildings on fire close by: engines were present, but were not allowed to play by the crowd. In the hotel itself, universal consternation prevailed, and an attack by the mob had been threatened. I walked about in the neighbourhood, and saw a company of soldiers on the march, who were being jeered at and hooted by small boys, and I saw a negro pursued by the crowd take refuge with the military; he was followed by loud cries of “Down with the b—y nigger! Kill all niggers!” &c. Never having been in New York before, and being totally ignorant of the state of feeling with regard to negroes, I inquired of a bystander what the negroes had done that they should want to kill them? He replied, civilly enough — “Oh sir, they hate them here; they are the innocent cause of all these troubles.” Shortly afterwards, I saw a troop of citizen cavalry come up; the troopers were very gorgeously attired, but evidently experienced so much difficulty in sitting their horses, that they were more likely to excite laughter than any other emotion.

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* The Northerners call the Southerners “Greybacks,” just as the latter call the former “Bluebellies,” on account of the colour of their dress.

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three Months in the Southern States: April-June, 1863, p. 306-8

Diary of Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle: Thursday, May 7, 1863

We started again at 1.30 A.M. in a smaller coach, but luckily with reduced numbers, viz. — the Louisianian Judge (who is also a legislator), a Mississippi planter, the boatswain, the Government agent, and a Captain Williams, of the Texas Rangers.

 

Before the day broke we reached a bridge over a stream called Mud Creek, which was in such a dilapidated condition that all hands had to get out and cover over the biggest holes with planks. The Government agent informed us that he still held a commission as adjutant-general to ——. The latter, it appears, is a cross between a guerilla and a horse thief, and, even by his adjutant-general's account, he seems to be an equal adept at both professions. The accounts of his forays in Arkansas were highly amusing, but rather strongly seasoned for a legitimate soldier.

 

The Judge was a very gentlemanlike nice old man. Both he and the adjutant-general were much knocked up by the journey; but I revived the former with the last of the Immortality rum. The latter was in very weak health, and doesn't expect to live long; but he ardently hoped to destroy a few more bluebellies”* before he “goes under.”

 

The Mississippi planter had abandoned his estate near Vicksburg, and withdrawn with the remnant of his slaves into Texas. The Judge also had lost all his property in New Orleans. In fact, every other man one meets has been more or less ruined since the war, but all speak of their losses with the greatest equanimity.

 

Captain Williams was a tall, cadaverous backwoodsman, who had lost his health in the war. He spoke of the Federal general, Rosecrans, with great respect, and he passed the following high encomium upon the North-Western troops, under Rosecrans's command —

 

“They're reglar great big h—llsnorters, the same breed as ourselves. They don't want no running after, — they don't. They ain't no Dutch cavalry^† — you bet!”

 

To my surprise all the party were willing to agree that a few years ago most educated men in the south regarded slavery as a misfortune and not justifiable, though necessary under the circumstances. But the meddling, coercive conduct of the detested and despised abolitionists had caused the bonds to be drawn much tighter.

 

My fellow-travellers of all classes are much given to talk to me about their “peculiar institution,” and they are most anxious that I should see as much of it as possible, in order that I may be convinced that it is not so bad as has been represented, and that they are not all “Legrees,” although they do not attempt to deny that there are many instances of cruelty. But they say a man who is known to illtreat his negroes is hated by all the rest of the community. They declare that Yankees make the worst masters when they settle in the South; and all seem to be perfectly aware that slavery, which they did not invent, but which they inherited from us (English), is and always will be the great bar to the sympathy of the civilised world. I have heard these words used over and over again.

 

All the villages through which we passed were deserted except by women and very old men; their aspect was most melancholy. The country is sandy and the land not fertile, but the timber is fine.

 

We met several planters on the road, who with their families and negroes were taking refuge in Texas, after having abandoned their plantations in Louisiana on the approach of Banks. One of them had as many as sixty slaves with him of all ages and sizes.

 

At 7 P.M. we received an unwelcome addition to our party, in the shape of three huge, long-legged, unwashed, odoriferous Texan soldiers, and we passed a wretched night in consequence. The Texans are certainly not prone to take offence where they see none is intended; for when this irruption took place, I couldn't help remarking to the Judge with regard to the most obnoxious man who was occupying the centre seat to our mutual discomfort, — “I say, Judge, this gentleman has got the longest legs I ever saw.” “Has he?” replied the Judge; “and he has got the d----dest, longest, hardest back I ever felt.” The Texan was highly amused by these remarks upon his personal appearance, and apologised for his peculiarities.

 

Crossed the Sabine river at 11.30 P.M.

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* The Union soldiers are called “bluebellies” on account of their blue uniforms. These often call the Confederates “greybacks."

 

^† German dragoons, much despised by the Texans on account of their style of riding.

 

SOURCE: Sir Arthur James Lyon Fremantle, Three Months in the Southern States: April-June, 1863, p. 77-80