Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop: Wednesday, June 1, 1864

Scalding heat during forenoon; heavy showers follow. Water is running through camp like a flood. Prisoners reported missing, rations suspended; Rebels are making a stir on the outside.

Finished "Paradise Lost"; called on Harriman. He supplied us with Pollock's "ourse of Time." We had read this, but it is now more acceptable. In our view it is a work of more natural thought and imbibes less of the unnatural. Milton has soulstirring passages, alive with truth, significant expression and beautiful simplicity. Then he goes deeply into themes beyond most conceptions; we don't wish to not, unless this is "Paradise Lost." Confederacy when he said:

follow him, or cannot, have Did he mean the Southern

"Devils with devils damned firm concord hold."

Did he mean the North when he wrote:

"Men only disagree of creatures rational,

Though under hope of heavenly grace"

how they should save the Union?

The following lines express a truth in human experience:

"God proclaiming peace,

Yet men live in hatred, enmity and strife

Among themselves, and levy cruel wars

Wasting the earth, each other to destroy,

As if man had not hellish foes enough besides,

That day and night for his destruction wait."

Milton seems to have designed to impress the thought that man had hellish foes distinct from his race, awaiting his destruction, which originated through rebellious war in heaven. I think the causes of our troubles lie in our lack of knowledge and misconception of our social relations, wicked ambition, foolish pride, and that these lines better fit an earthly than a heavenly realm.

The usual monotony except an unusual amount of firing by sentry. Prisoners arrive daily from both our great armies. Men crowd near them to get news and hardtack; occasionally old friends meet. About half the camp draw raw meal; we are of that half this week; have the trouble of cooking it without salt or seasoning or wood, half the time. We stir it in water, bake it on plates held over a splinter fire with a stiff stick, or boil it into mush or dumplings, baking or boiling as long as fuel lasts.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 70-1

Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, July 26, 1863

Our camp yesterday was enlivened by the joyful news that we had orders to take the cars for some unknown destination, and it is generally believed that Gregg's Brigade is to join Bragg's army, a petition having been sent up some time since with this request, if any are allowed to go; in it it was urged that most of this brigade were Tennesseeans, who had not seen their families since the day of their enlistment, in 1861. With a day's ration cooked, and another of crackers and bacon in haversacks, we were on the cars ready to start at 5 The entire night was consumed in going to Meridian, a distance of sixty-one miles. While waiting this morning, a train load of paroled Vicksburg prisoners, under the influence of whisky, made a charge upon a lot of sugar lying near the depot, and guarded by a detail of the Fourteenth Mississippi. In the melee a guard fired a blank cartridge at the crowd, when a lieutenant shot him in the head with a pistol, making a severe, but not dangerous, wound. The guards then left their posts, and the sugar was given up to pillage. Our brigade is now at Enterprise, from which place it can reach any needed point very quickly.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 281-2

Diary of Musician David Lane, June 23, 1863

Once more we are on the wing. Yesterday morning we were ordered to be ready to march when called on. Of course, the men do not expect to stay anywhere, but it always comes a little tough to leave a pleasant camp just as they get comfortably settled. But military orders are inexorable, and, in spite of regrets, we "struck tents, slung knapsacks," and started on our winding way among the hills. This part of the country is made up of ranges of high hills separated by ravines down which the water has cut channels from ten to twenty feet deep. We marched about three miles on the road leading to Vicksburg and halted on the top of a high hill just large enough to hold our regiment. It was plowed last spring and planted to cotton. Colonel Luce looked indignant, the company officers grumbled, the men swore. General Welch regretted, but Major General Parks ordered the left to rest here, and it rested. But Colonel Luce could still do something. Ordering us in line, he said: "Men, you need not pitch your tents in line in this open field; go where you can make yourselves most comfortable, only be on hand when the bugle sounds." Three cheers and a tiger for Colonel Luce. then a wild break for trees, brush; anything to shelter us from the fierce rays of a Southern sun. We are now nine miles from Vicksburg by the road, six miles in a direct line. We can distinctly hear musketry at that place, which has been kept up almost incessantly the last three days. At intervals the cannonading is terrific. Our Orderly Sergeant rode over there yesterday, to see his brother. He says Grant's rifle pits are not more than twenty-five rods from the Rebels, and woe to the man on either side who exposes himself to the marksmanship of the other. As near as I can learn, matters remain about as they were three weeks ago. Unless General Grant succeeds in mining some of their works, thus affecting an entrance, he will be compelled to starve them out.

We would think, in Michigan, such land as this utterly unfit for cultivation. But the highest hills are cultivated and planted with corn or cotton. Corn, even on the highest hills, I have never seen excelled in growth of stalk. One would naturally suppose that in this hilly country water of good quality would abound. Such is not the fact. Soon as we broke ranks I started out in quest of water. I followed a ravine about half a mile, then crossed over to another, but found none. Blackberries being plentiful, I filled my cap and returned to camp. Some of the boys had been more successful, and after resting a few minutes I took another direction, for water we must have. This time I followed a ridge about half a mile, then began to descend—down, down, I went, seemingly into the very bowels of the earth, and when I reached the bottom found a stagnant pool of warm, muddy water. Making a virtue of necessity, I filled my canteen, returned to camp, made some coffee, ate my berries, with a very little hardtack, and went to bed to dream of "limpid streams and babbling brooks."

This morning my comrade and I arose with the early dawn and started out in search of berries, which we found in great abundance.

A strange stillness pervades our hitherto noisy and tumultous camp. The men are scattered in every direction, lounging listlessly in the shade, not caring even to play cards, so oppressive is the heat. I am sitting in the shade of a mulberry tree, Collier lying on the ground near by; we alternately write or lounge as the mood takes us. Most assuredly I never felt the heat in Michigan as I feel it here. Yet men can work in this climate, and northern men, too. The Eighth and Twentieth have been throwing up fortifications for several days.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 56-8

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, December 16, 1862

Another hard night; one of a few very cold and disagreeable ones. We left the ranks early for rails, and after carrying them two or three miles, found, on arriving at camp, there were plenty on hand and not accounted for. We got our supper and tried to sleep, but it was almost impossible. We would have suffered severely had it not been for our woollen blankets; as it was, when we woke up this morning, many of us found the water in our canteens frozen, said canteens having been used as pillows during the night.

WHITEHALL.

After starting at seven o'clock, we kept halting continually until nine. We had travelled not more than four or five miles when we heard heavy firing in our immediate front. Our brigade being a head, our regiment was sent in about the first. We left the main road, taking the one over the hill on the left, and were immediately under fire. Here we came upon two men of "A" who had been killed by a shot or shell. We dropped our knapsacks and filed along a line of fence, coming to a halt in front of the Neuse, with the rebels on the opposite shore.

We fired several volleys by company, then the order came, "At will," which was easier. We had an old rail-fence in front, and beyond that a few barrels of pitch or turpentine, then a slope, and the water, and the rebels beyond. We received a good share of their bullets, and hoped ours did better execution, as we were fortunate in not losing a man. There were several narrow escapes, however. The flag was immediately behind our company, and a part of the time the flag of the 9th New Jersey was unfurled behind us also, which might have drawn an extra amount of fire; but we did not suffer any loss, while some of the companies lost several. "A," four killed and seven wounded; "B," one wounded; "C," three killed; "K," one killed; "D," two wounded; "F," one wounded; "G," two wounded; "H," two wounded. We were on the rebels' right. We stayed there about an hour and a half and then were ordered back, and started directly across the field in line of fire for cover, where we could see other regiments flat on the ground. All the protection we had there, was by hugging mother earth and folding our arms back of our heads, the bullets whistling close to us in a neighborly fashion. Here we waited, and those who had hard-tack munched it; but we kept up a thinking all the while whether the muscles of our arms would stop a bullet from going through our heads. Soon Belger's battery took our old place and opened on the rebels, who treated them pretty severely for a time, as we could see good R. I. material dropping constantly. The battery boys came for the water we had in our canteens, with which to cool their guns, the firing having been quite brisk. After two hours of very steady work, the rebels concluded to give up the fight. As they had destroyed the bridge yesterday, we could not chase them, so fell in and started again for Goldsboro, and about eight o'clock camped in a field at the junction of two roads.

SOURCE: John Jasper Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass. Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 26-7

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, December 20, 1862

After some trouble we managed to get to bed last night about eleven o'clock; but for a long time after that the mules kept us awake; perhaps they were hungry also. The weather was clear and not cold, so we got a little rest. At six o'clock this morning we were ordered on, after a very light breakfast, excepting for a few who may have foraged. There were a few chickens and a little applejack about our mess. To-day has been the hardest of any day of the tramp, and there has been more straggling. The company organization was in the line, but thinned out terribly. We had no noon-rest; but at two o'clock we filed from the road to a field, came to the front, and received a good scolding. Our regiment looked as if it had been through two Bull Runs; only about 150 left, and the rest not "accounted for." In fact there were very few left of those who should do the accounting. The colonel stormed a little, but that did not bring up the men; so, as he was probably as hungry, if not as tired, as we were, he let us go to eating, which was a decided farce. Our haversacks were as flat as our stomachs. We found a few grains of coffee and tobacco-crumbs in the bottom of our bags, and succeeded in digging a few sweet potatoes, which we ate raw. We were told they were very fullsome. We waited here two hours or so for the stragglers, who finally came along. They had been having a fine time, plenty of room to walk, and two hours more to do it in than we had; and, more than that, they were in the majority, so nothing could be done but "Right shoulder shift" and put the best foot forward. About sundown we saw, in crossing a bridge, a wagon-load of hard-tack bottom side up in the creek. Some of the boys sampled the bread, but it was not fit to eat. Shortly after a signboard indicated fourteen miles to New Berne. That was encouraging! The walking was fearful, the roads full of water, in some places waist deep, and covered with a skimming of ice. At last we met a wagon loaded with bread, and after much talk with the driver we got what we wanted. Next we met a man who said it was only twelve miles to New Berne. They either have long miles or else some one made a mistake; we seemingly had been walking two hours or more from the fourteenth mile post, and now it was twelve miles. We came to the conclusion not to ask any more questions, but "go it blind.”

We at last reached the picket-post, seven miles out, and halted to rest and allow the artillery to go through. Here Col. Lee told us we were at liberty to stay out and come into camp Sunday; but most of "E" thought of the letters and the supper we would probably get, and concluded to stand by the flag. After a rest we started again, and at last began to close up and halt often, so we knew we were coming to some place or other.

The writer has no very distinct idea of those last seven miles, excepting that he was trying to walk, smoke, and go to sleep at the same time, and could only succeed in swearing rather faintly, and in a stupid sort of manner, at everything and every one. It was dark and foggy, but finally we saw what appeared to be the headlight of a locomotive a long way off. Then the fort loomed up, and we were passing under an arch or bridge, and in a few minutes we reached "E's" barrack, and our troubles were all forgotten. Now we were wide awake; gave three hearty cheers for every one; had all the baked beans and coffee we could stagger under; and then the captain's "Attention for letters" brought us to our feet. Some had as many as a dozen. They had to be read at once, and, notwithstanding our fatigue and the lateness of the hour, read they were.

SOURCE: John Jasper Wyeth, Leaves from a Diary Written While Serving in Co. E, 44 Mass. Dep’t of North Carolina from September 1862 to June 1863, p. 29-30

Diary of Corporal John Worrell Northrop: Friday, May 20, 1864

As it grew daylight we arrived at Greenboro, N. C., a pleasant place, appropriately named, I judge, for the beauty of the scene cheered and made me forget I was not on a pleasure trip. The village is full of green trees and flower gardens, splendidly located in a slightly undulating, but not hilly region. Away to the west the Blue Ridge appeared like a panorama. We stopped near a large, thickly wooded park charming as the original forest. The wide streets, rows of green trees glistening with dew as the sun shone on them, the morning songs of birds, and the people on the street and those that came to look at us as though we were a caravan of strange animals again made us think of lost liberty. The people appeared anxious to talk but were prevented. The soldiers said a strong Union feeling existed. I judge they are tolerable compromisers. We left Greenboro at 8 p. m.; while there I traded by hat cord for three biscuits with a Rebel soldier going to the front. Thompson and I call it breakfast. From here to Salisbury we halted at three stations; the people appeared kindly disposed, mannerly, our folks like. At one station a citizen gave the boys a few cakes. I find human nature is the same everywhere. Men may differ widely in opinion, still they are alike. Today we can forgive or embrace what yesterday we fought. Whoever we meet and wherever we meet them, we see something of ourselves reflected. This is consoling in circumstances like these; so if we love ourselves we must love our enemies. Man is a curious compound of many animate beings with an additional quality higher and better.

"His nature none can o'errate, and none

Can under rate his merit."

At Salisbury we stopped two hours. Men and women came out to talk but were not freely allowed. One family inquired for Pennsylvanians, stated that they formerly lived in that State, and sent two little negro girls to bring us water, but were finally forbidden intercourse. Here is a prison where many Union officers and Union citizens and newspaper correspondents are confined. At 6:30 p. m. we reach Charlotte, 93 miles south of Greenboro and were marched a mile and camped. After dark we drew a day's ration of hard bread and bacon; had had nothing for 36 hours.

SOURCE: John Worrell Northrop, Chronicles from the Diary of a War Prisoner in Andersonville and Other Military Prisons of the South in 1864, p. 50-1

Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, July 14, 1863

Jackson.—We took position in the ditches early in the morning of the 9th, and have been here ever since, under fire of the enemy's sharpshooters, and occasionally of their batteries. The opening shots of the second siege of Jackson were heard on the Clinton road on the morning of the 9th, where Jackson's Cavalry were disputing the advance of Grant's army, and in the course of the day the firing grew nearer. A number of citizens abandoned their homes for a place of safety, and we had free access to their houses. The regiment was posted in a yard under fine shade trees, and nearly every man had a book, while some were seated in rosewood chairs. At ten o'clock General Johnston and staff rode along the trenches, and seemed in fine spirits. We drew crackers and bacon, and had our water hauled to us. Early on the morning of the 10th, it was reported that the enemy was advancing to storm our works, and at eight o'clock skirmishing and canonading were lively at the center. At 4 P. M. firing began on our wing, (the right). Several prisoners were brought in during the afternoon, and it was reported that a Louisiana regiment had charged a battery, and captured two of its pieces. After nightfall several fine residences, outside of the lines, were set on fire to prevent the enemy's sharpshooters from taking shelter behind them, and the vicinity was soon brilliantly lit up. Sharpshooting was kept up until late at night. At daylight on the morning of the 11th, the Yanks opened fire on our front from a clump of trees on a slight eminence, and their long-range guns enabled them to keep us in hot water, while very few of our guns could reach them. The firing was pretty constant all along the lines during the morning. Private Estes, of Captain Cunningham's Company, was wounded in the temple, while looking over our breastworks, and another (name unknown) wounded in the hand. A call for fifty volunteers from the regiment, to act as sharpshooters, was promptly responded to. While on this service, in a cornfield, Private Renegar, of Captain Little's Company, was killed, and Corporal W. C. Gracy, of Captain Feeney's Company, severely wounded. This evening the Yanks made two vigorous charges on our right wing, and were badly repulsed. At 6 P. M. the artillery firing on the extreme left was very heavy. The Forty-first was ordered on picket, to remain twenty-four hours.

At 5 A. M., on the morning of the 12th, heavy skirmishing began along the entire line, and continued until nine o'clock, when the artillery opened, and rained on our works a terrible shower of shot and shell for the space of an hour. Our skirmishers were driven in by this fire, and we fully expected a charge to follow, but were doomed to disappointment. Throughout the day shells came at regular intervals, our guns replying slowly. About 9:30 A. M. fifty skirmishers from each regiment went out to recover the lost ground, which they succeeded in doing after a sharp battle. At 11 o'clock heavy firing was heard on the left, and news soon came that Breckenridge's Division had signally repulsed the enemy with heavy loss to them in killed, wounded and prisoners, besides two stands of colors. This was soon confirmed by the appearance of the captured flags, which were borne along the entire line of our works. The casualties in the Forty-first, in this day's operations, were three men wounded. On July 13th skirmishing began in front of Gregg's Brigade before daylight, and continued briskly all day. Barrett and Robinson, of Captain Cunningham's Company, came in off picket and said they had killed a Yank. Some of the boys afterwards went to the spot they pointed out, and brought off the body, when it proved to be a member of the Third Tennessee. He was in advance of the line, and hence this mistake.

On the 14th there was very little change in the state of affairs. At one o'clock a truce of three hours was held, to enable the enemy to bury his dead. There was quite a mingling of the Gray and the Blue during the cessation of hostilities on this part of the line. Two or three casualties occurred in the regiment during the day, among them Private Goodrum, wounded in the head, while seated at the bottom of the ditch. 

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 217-9

Diary of Corporal John W. Dennett, December 16, 1862

After getting a little coffee and hard-tack, we started for our old camp at Potomac Creek. Arrived there at noon, and found the camp occupied by wagon-train of the First Army Corps. It rained hard all day.

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. 270-1

Diary of Malvina S. Waring, March 23, 1865

Congressman Farrow asked me today if I were feeling well. Come to think of it, I do not feel well. My nerve forces seem to be all out of tune, and my digestion is impaired—in fact, a general malaise appears to be the result of hardtack on my constitution.

SOURCE: South Carolina State Committee United Daughters of the Confederacy, South Carolina Women in the Confederacy, Vol. 1, “A Confederate Girl's Diary,” p. 283

Diary of Musician David Lane, February 15, 1863

We are now on the “heaving sea and the bounding wave.” We were aroused yesterday morning at four o'clock, ordered to prepare breakfast and be ready to march at a minute's notice. At five-thirty the bugle sounded "fall in." We slung our accoutrements, the first time since the battle of Fredericksburg, and in fifteen minutes were en route to the depot, distance about two miles. After some delay we took cars for Aquia Creek, where we arrived at 10 o'clock a. m., and were immediately transferred to transports, bound for Fortress Monroe. The Seventy-ninth New York and Seventeenth Michigan were crowded on the North America, an old Hudson River propeller. There was hardly standing room, much less room to walk about. The day is fine, and the bay, unruffled by a breeze, presents a lively and picturesque appearance. Steamers are continually arriving and departing, sailboats of all sorts and sizes spread their white wings and glide leisurely through the still waters, while the active little tugs go whisking and snorting here and there, assisting larger and more unwieldly vessels. We left Aquia Creek at 10:30 o'clock a. m., expecting to reach the Fortress by nine o'clock next morning. I love the sea in all its forms and phases, and it was with a thrill of joy I took my seat on deck, prepared to enjoy whatever of interest might present itself. The Potomac, at Aquia Creek, is truly a noble stream, if stream it may be called, for there is no perceptible current, being, I judge, one and one-half miles wide, gradually broadening out as it nears the bay, until at its mouth it is nine miles wide. There is a striking contrast between the Maryland and Virginia shores. The Virginia side, nearly the entire distance, presents a rugged, mountainous aspect, with very few buildings in view, while the Maryland shore is level, dotted with farm buildings, and, at frequent intervals a village with its church spires glittering in the sun. In contemplating these peaceful scenes of rural life, the quiet farm houses surrounded by groves of trees, the well-tilled fields, outbuildings and fences undisturbed by war's desolating hand, the genial air of quiet repose that pervades the scene calls up emotions that have long lain dormant. For many long months, which seems as many years, my eyes have become inured to scenes of blood, of desolation and of ruin; to cities and villages laid waste and pillaged; private residences destroyed; homes made desolate; in fact, the whole country through which we have passed, except part of Maryland, has become through war's desolating touch, a desert waste. As I gazed on these peaceful scenes and my thirsty soul drank in their beauty, how hateful did war appear, and I prayed the time might soon come when “Nations shall learn war no more.”

Gradually the wind freshened, increasing in force as we neared the bay, until it became so rough the captain thought it unsafe to venture out, and cast anchor about five miles from the mouth of the river to await the coming of day. I spread my blanket on the floor of one of the little cabins and slept soundly until morning. When I awoke in the morning the first gray streaks of early dawn were illuminating the eastern horizon.

The gale having subsided, we were soon under way, and in about half an hour entered the broad Chesapeake. And here a most grand and imposing scene met my enraptured gaze. Not a breath of air disturbed its unruffled surface. Numerous vessels, floating upon its bosom, were reflected as by a mirror. A delegation of porpoises met us at the entrance to welcome us to their domain; they were twenty-two in number, were from six to eight feet in length; in color, dark brown. It was truly amusing to witness their sportive antics as they seemed to roll themselves along. They would throw themselves head foremost from the water half their length, turning as on a pivot, perform what seemed to be a somersault, and disappear.

A flock of sea gulls fell into our wake, sagely picking up any crumbs of bread that might be thrown them. They are a strange bird, a little larger than a dove, closely resembling them in color and gracefulness of motion. They followed us the whole distance, and as I watched their continuous, ceaseless flight, the effect on the mind was a sense of weariness at thought of the long-continued exertion.

Soon after we entered the bay I observed what I thought to be a light fog arising in the southeast. We had not proceeded far, however, before I discovered my mistake, for that which seemed to be a fog was a shower of rain. I was taken wholly by surprise, for I had been accustomed to see some preparation and ceremony on similar occasions. But now no gathering clouds darkened the distant sky, warning me of its approach, but the very storm itself seemed to float upon the waves and become part of it, and before I was aware, enfolded us in its watery embrace. The storm soon passed, but the wind continued through the day, and, as we neared the old Atlantic and met his heavy swells, they produced a feeling of buoyancy that was, to me, truly exhilerating.

Some of the boys were seasick, and a number "cast up their accounts" in earnest. We entered the harbor about sundown and cast anchor for the night under the frowning guns of Fortress Monroe.

Vessels of war of every class, monitors included, and sailing vessels of all sizes, crowded the harbor. It was a magnificent scene, and one on which I had always longed to gaze.

In the morning we learned our destination was Newport News, distant about five miles. We arrived about eight o'clock, marched two miles to Hampton Roads, our camping ground, pitched tents and, at noon, were ready for our dinner of coffee and hardtack.

We have a pleasant camping ground, lying on the beach, where we can watch the vessels as they pass and can pick up oysters by the bushel when the tide is out.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 30-3

Diary of Private Edward W. Crippin, August 29, 1861

Reveille early this morning preparations for leaving Camp McClernand, Tents struck at a few minutes after 10 A. M. Baggage packed & loaded by ½ past 11 A. M. Companies on parade ¼ past 12 M. Marched into Jacksonville at 1 O'clock P. M. in court yard till 4 O'clock P. M. Marched to the cars, nothing but open cars for the men, Large crowd at the depot to witness our departure. Had some trouble while at the depot with private Sullivan, he was drunk had to tie him for refusing to be still, Left Springfield at 10 minutes past 5 P. M. amid the firing of cannon and immense cheering of the citisens 1st Sergent Browning left behind to recruit his health, to follow up as soon as that will permit. Arrived at Decatur without anything of moment transpiring. At 1 O'clock on the morning of the 30th issued some rations of hard crackers & cheese to the men Changed cars; better accommodations from there, to Cairo, in passenger coaches but nothing better to eat. Arrived at Cairo at 4 O'clock P. M. marched to quarters on the open plain above the city.

SOURCE: Transactions of the Illinois State Historical Society for the Year 1909, p. 224

Diary of Private William S. White, June 7, 1861

Throwing up breastworks all day, and we now are impatiently awaiting the enemy. Provisions are scarce; had a couple of hard crackers and a teaspoonful of salt pork gravy. Somewhat different from good old Mrs. Mottley's suppers at the Linwood House on Main street, where we Richmond boys most delighted to board. However, I didn't suffer much, having succeeded in getting a good dinner for a slight compensation. The people in this neighborhood are in rather poor circumstances, and of course we are willing to pay for anything we get of them.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 95

Diary of Private William S. White, June 14, 1861

Arrived at Bethel Church this morning about 9 A. M., and immediately set to work to get breakfast—such a breakfast: salt pork, black Rio coffee and hard crackers. Well, such is a soldier's life, and we mustn't complain. The Zouaves are having even a harder time of it than we, for their rations have not yet arrived. Most of their officers seem to be gentlemen, but some of them are very cruel to their men. The Second Louisiana regiment came down a few hours since.

SOURCE: William S. White, A Diary of the War; or What I Saw of It, p. 101

Diary of Captain Joseph Stockton, November 27, 1862

This is Thanksgiving Day as ordered by the President of the United States. Spent the day in the woods on picket duty. My dinner was hard tack and ham; day exceedingly pleasant. Thought of friends at home but do not regret being where I am. We are brigaded with the 4th Minnesota, 48th Indiana and 59th Indiana—Colonel Sanborn commanding brigade, General Quimby's division, General Hamilton's corps, General Grant's army of the West.

SOURCE: Joseph Stockton, War Diary (1862-5) of Brevet Brigadier General Joseph Stockton, p. 4

Diary of Private Louis Leon: May 18, 1864

We are divided in divisions and companies. There is a thousand in each division and one hundred in each company. A sergeant commands each company. We get light bread one day and crackers the other.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 63

Diary of Private Louis Leon: May 26, 1864

Received two letters to-day, one from home and one from my brother Pincus, who went to Washington on his way to visit Morris and myself, as he has to get a pass from headquarters before he can see us. He was refused and returned home. Our daily labor as prisoners is that at 5 in the morning we have roll call; 6, breakfast, 500 at a time, as one lot gets through another takes its place, until four lots have eaten; we then stroll about the prison until 1 o'clock, when we eat dinner in the same style as breakfast, then loaf about again until sundown. Roll is called again, thus ending the day. We get for breakfast five crackers with worms in them; as a substitute for butter, a small piece of pork, and a tin cup full of coffee; dinner, four of the above crackers, a quarter of a pound mule meat and a cup of bean soup, and every fourth day an eight-ounce loaf of white bread. Nothing more this month.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 65

Diary of Private W. J. Davidson, January 3, 1863

Early in the day yesterday it was announced that the enemy were re-embarking on their gun-boats and transports, and before night the report was confirmed. We captured one hundred barrels of crackers and fifty boxes of axes, which they had left in their haste to get out of the way. They did not quite get Vicksburg, after all of their boasting. Our commander is of the opinion that they will endeavor to land at the wharf to-morrow, under the cover of the fog, and take the place by storm. For this reason, we are still held in position, though nearly worn out by exposure and prolonged abstinence.

SOURCE: Edwin L. Drake, Editor, The Annals of the Army of Tennessee and Early Western History, Vol. 1, p. 17

Dr. Spencer G. Welch to Cordelia Strother Welch, May 27, 1862

Hanover County, V a.,        

May 27, 1862.

We have just finished a forced march of about forty miles, and have fallen back from near Fredericksburg to within ten miles of Richmond. The Yankees intended to take the Richmond and Potomac Railroad, so we came to reinforce the army already stationed here.

We started last Saturday about dark and continued to travel over the bad, muddy roads all night. We had a very tedious march and did not stop except to get the artillery out of the mire, and at one time to eat and rest a little. Whenever the men would come to mud holes and fords of rivers they would plunge right in without hesitating a moment. This is necessary, because an army must never be allowed to hesitate at anything.

Our brigade consists of the Twelfth, Thirteenth and Fourteenth South Carolina and the Thirty-eighth North Carolina regiments, and is commanded by General Maxey Gregg.

Our division is about fifteen thousand strong and is commanded by General Joseph R. Anderson. It extended several miles, and whenever we would get into a long, straight piece of road where I could look back the sight was most amazing. The compact mass moved four deep, and, with their glittering guns, looked like a river of human beings.

I stood the march finely, and your brother Edwin did not seem to be jaded at all, neither did Billie. Coppock was too sick to move, so we left him behind; but I do not believe he will fall into the hands of the enemy. They are not advancing in that direction. We have been living on crackers and bacon, but I got a fine breakfast this morning on the road. General Gregg and his staff were present and I had the honor of being introduced to them all.

There is little doubt but that we shall get into a fight very soon, possibly before you receive this letter. There must be fighting somewhere on the line now, for I hear the booming of field pieces. We are well prepared for them, and whether we whip them or not they cannot whip us badly.

Take good care of yourself and George.

SOURCE: Dr. Spenser G. Welch, A Confederate Surgeon's Letters to His Wife, p. 10-12

Diary of Private Louis Leon: March 15, 1863

Laid here all day, with two crackers for our rations, and these we got at night.

SOURCE: Louis Leon, Diary of a Tar Heel Confederate Soldier, p. 19

Diary of Private Daniel L. Ambrose: Friday, July 17, 1863

After eating our scanty breakfast of hard-tack and coffee, the bugle is sounded and we saddle up and are on our way, taking the road towards Adamsville via Shiloh and Crump's Landing; about nine o'clock we pass a portion of the great battle-field of Shiloh, the place where the gallant General Prentiss stood so long fighting as it were against hope. A melancholy stillness pervades the whole command while passing this great battle field, for we remember that comrades sleep here. Oh! how vividly the day, the hour, the evening, comes to our minds when we saw them fall in the fierce struggle for the mastery. As we emerge from the dreary wilderness, where so many Union warriors lie sleeping, we are wont to say in the language of Tom Moore:

"Oh how blessed a warrior sleeps,

For whom a wondering world shall weep."

At noon we arrive at Adamsville, but no rebels are found; i. e. hostile ones. Everything seems quiet. We halt, feed, and eat our dinners. War has also made its mark here. From appearances this has been in former times a thriving little village; but alas! how different now. Three o'clock, we pass through Purdy and move on towards Corinth; we halt on Gravel Hill and go into camp for the night. The boys soon sally forth, and after being gone awhile return with plenty of oats and roasting-ears, upon which the mules and men make their supper.

SOURCE: Daniel Leib Ambrose, History of the Seventh Regiment Illinois Volunteer Infantry, p. 179-80