Diary of Private John C. West, Sunday, May 24, 1863

Left Richmond yesterday about 6:30 o'clock a. m. Found a number of the Texas Brigade and a few of my regiment on the cars and soon became acquainted with them. The trip was monotonous, as usual, until we reached Gordonsville, where the crowd was so great that twenty of us had to stand on the platform. General J. E. B. Stuart was aboard and appeared to be very fond of ladies and flowers. He is of medium size, well formed, fair complexion, blue eyes, whiskers and mustache of sun-burnt reddish color, usually accompanying fair skin. I had quite a pleasant time on the platform watching the attempts of the proscribed to get a seat in the cars and their repulse by the provost guard. The cars were for the accommodation of ladies and commissioned officers. I never knew soldiers of any grade to be put in the same category with women before. I happened, however, to meet Tom Lipscomb, my old college classmate, who is now a major, who managed to get me in under his wing. We had a long talk about Columbia and old college days. He informed me that Lamar Stark, my wife's brother, was a prisoner confined in the old capitol in Washington city. We reached Mitchell's Station at 4 o'clock p. m.; walked five miles, a hot walk, to camp on the Rapidan, near Raccoon Ford. My regiment, the Fourth Texas, has a delightful camping place in a grove of large chestnut trees, on a hillside. We have no tents and the ground is hard and rocky, but we are all satisfied, and one day's observation has led me to believe that no army on earth can whip these men. They may be cut to pieces and killed, but routed and whipped, never! I called on Colonel B. F. Carter this morning and had quite a pleasant interview. He is a calm, determined man, and one of the finest officers in the division. To-day was the regular time for inspection and review. One barefooted and ragged hero came to Colonel Carter's Tent with the inquiry, "Colonel, do you want the barefooted men to turn out today?" to which the Colonel replied negatively, with a smile. I went out to the review which took place in an open field about 600 yards from camp. There were some ladies on horseback on the field. Their presence was cheering and grateful. They were all dressed in black, as were more than two-thirds of the women in the Confederacy. On returning to camp I called on Major Bass, of the First Texas, and gave him $25.00, which I had received for him from Lieutenant Ochiltree, at Shreveport, Louisiana, to be handed to Bass if I did not need it.

I received two haversacks to-day, miserably weak and slazy, made of thin cotton cloth. I have only taken a change of underwear, towel, soap and Bible and Milton's Paradise Lost. I have sent all the rest to Richmond with my carpet sack, to be left at Mrs. Mary E. Fisher's, on Franklin street, half way between Sixth and Seventh.

I wrote a letter to mother and one to wife to-day and read the 104th Psalm. I opened to it by chance, and it contained just what I felt.

SOURCE: John Camden West, A Texan in Search of a Fight: Being the Diary and Letters of a Private Soldier in Hood’s Texas Brigade, pp. 52-4

Diary of Private Seth J. Wells, Thursday, January 1, 1863

Bright and clear, warm and pleasant. How well do I remember two short years ago today when we took a sleigh ride and made a regular family visit at Uncle Tim's. Since then I have traveled over four thousand miles, five hundred and eighty of which I marched with gun on my shoulder; have seen more vice and drunkenness than I ever supposed existed, yet I hope I am morally no worse than when surrounded by kind relatives and friends. An orderly call beat immediately after reveille this morning at which time we received orders to cook our rations and be ready by half past seven. We cooked our fresh pork and by the appointed time had it in our haversacks, and our knapsacks strapped on our backs, ready for the march. We went eight miles and camped close to a small town called Lafayette, situated on the Memphis and Charleston R. R. As soon as we had pitched our tents, Chas. Berry and myself went out one mile from camp and killed a hog. We are now the first regiment of the first brigade, commanded by Brigadier-General McArthur, of Gen. Hamilton's corps, of the left wing of Gen. Grant's army. We were put in the rear of the brigade today as a special guard to keep up the stragglers.

SOURCE: Seth James Wells, The Siege of Vicksburg: From the Diary of Seth J. Wells, Including Weeks of Preparation and of Occupation After the Surrender, pp. 24-5

Diary of Private Jenkin Lloyd Jones: Saturday, November 1, 1862

Corinth. Orders were given to Battery to cook three days' rations in their haversacks and three days' in the wagons, all ready to march on the following morning.

SOURCE: Jenkin Lloyd Jones, An Artilleryman's Diary, p. 11

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, February 1, 1863

PLYMOUTH.

Sunday, and another move at last. We left the barracks about seven o'clock this morning, marched through the town and aboard the "Northerner," by far the most commodious steamer we have been on since we came out. There are awful stories of her having been condemned, and, as a last resort, sold to government for transporting troops. There is plenty of room however; so, as we cannot help it, we content ourselves, and hunt around for our stateroom. Our party was lucky enough to get one, seven of us occupying it; and after a good dinner we turned in, as we had seen all there was to be seen on the river before, and did not know how soon we would be called upon to lose sleep. We steamed at a good rate down the Neuse, and at dark were still at sea. We are having a good time so far; not overcrowded, the vessel clean, and plenty of good stuff to eat, as we had just received boxes by the "Fry," chartered by our friends at home. There was a box for every man, and in some cases two, so our knapsacks and haversacks are filled with home-made eatables, instead of government meat and bread. We have our band with us, so many expect some good times. The band takes two good fellows from "E,”—Park and Ramsay; and all the consolation we get for the loss is an extra onion now and then, and perhaps a little less noise in the barracks from Ned.

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, pp. 35-6

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, February 7, 1863

HAM FAT.

Freedom of the town for to-day, and all over town we went; had a dug-out race, and about all who were in it got a ducking. Our party went up the shore of the river some distance. We saw the ways where a ram had been started, but was destroyed to keep our gunboats from taking her. We then branched off into the woods and finally found a picket-post, where we got some good cider and had a chat, arriving home just in time to get our guns and "fall in."

It seemed our right wing was "on a march." Quartermaster Bush said we were going for wood, but we could not understand why it took four or five companies to escort an equal number of wagons a few miles from town, unless there was a large force of the enemy about; and if there was, why had we heard nothing from them for five days? Our orders were "light marching order," nothing but guns and ammunition; but most of "E" took haversacks and dippers, and were glad we did. We started about two o'clock this afternoon, and after marching about two miles we struck an "obstacle." The road was completely barricaded by large trees felled across it; and as cutting would delay us the rest of the day, we turned into the woods and went through a swamp, and soon found ourselves in the road again, marching towards "Long Acre." We left "B" and "C" at the junction of two roads, near a blacksmith shop. We soon left the wagons also, they probably stopping for the wood which was piled up by the roadside. We still kept "marching on," and by dark we were tired as well as hungry. There was worse for us in store, however. The boys ahead began to scatter and growl, and soon we were in the water. It was icy-cold and waist deep. Some tried the runway on the side, but it was slippery with ice. One of the boys made fruitless attempts to keep both feet on the rail. His efforts on that parallel bar were edifying; but being the youngest member of "E" (sweet seventeen), he will have more time than the rest of us to improve. After much struggling, down he went, gun and all. The water was three feet deep; and after fishing up his rifle he concluded to wade with us the rest of the way. We know "a thing of beauty is a joy forever." He was not in a beautiful or joyous mood then, but will probably be a JOY forever.

The ford seemed to us about a mile long. It was probably only a quarter, if that; but it came to an end at last, and we footed the rest of the way on dry land; varying the monotony by private details for forage at every house we came to; striving to get ahead of the officers in their attempts to save the cider from us.

Between ten and eleven o'clock P.M. we halted, and were informed that the "object, &c., was accomplished," "about faced," which brought "E" to the front, and started for home. Twelve of our men went ahead as advance guard, under command of Lieut. Newell, and another twelve of us as support. A short distance behind came the column. We were on the same road, and knew we had the same ford to recross, and suffered torments until it was over with, and we fairly out of its sight. We foraged right and left; hardly a man of us without two or three old hens, dipper full of honey, and a few with a ham or two. The advance and support had the most and fattest pickings of course. We rejoined the other companies, "B" last, at the blacksmith shop; and about five o'clock A M. came in sight of the picket and saw Plymouth.

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, pp. 37-8

Diary of Private Edward W. Crippin, November 4, 1861

. . . comfort ably cool Routine of Duties as usual. Capt. Parke Officer of the day at camp Cairo Every thing quiet in camp Weather very pleasant Battalion Drill this afternoon General Paine from Paducah and Ajt. Gen. M. Breyman of this place present. We drew 36 Overcoats to day for our Co. and the full complment of Haversacks.

8 men detailed from our Regt. as Extra Duty men to work on Fortifications. Joel Knip detailed from our Comp. for Ten Days commencing tomorrow Dress Parade at the usual hour.

SOURCE: Transactions of the Illinois State Historical Society for the Year 1909, p. 231

Diary of Private Seth J. Wells, December 26, 1862

Warm and raining. We were astir early, cooked our breakfasts, filled our haversacks with meat and what little bread we had, and fell in about 7 o'clock. It began to rain and we had gone but a mile or two when we were wet through. We secured two ox teams, one of six oxen, and one of four, which hauled our knapsacks. The 12th Ind. is still camped on the Tallahatchie. Saw Lieut. E. Webster and Tom Anderson, they are living on quarter rations. Capt. Williams, now Colonel of the regiment, was at Holly Springs at the time it was captured and he was taken for the third time. We marched to the Yazoo Bottoms and camped on the opposite side. It rained and we were completely soaked. The ground was muddy and I looked around, found a stack of corn, dug down to the dry stalks, husked out a lot and made a bed for myself. We are, within seven miles of Holly Springs.

SOURCE: Seth James Wells, The Siege of Vicksburg: From the Diary of Seth J. Wells, Including Weeks of Preparation and of Occupation After the Surrender, p. 22

Diary of Private Seth J. Wells: December 13, 1862

Marching orders, sure enough. We drew three days' rations this morning, with orders to have two cooked and in our haversacks, ready to march at 5 o'clock the next morning. I have a new pair of boots which I expect to break in on the march—or they will break me. We were relieved this morning by the 126th. I have a very severe cold.

SOURCE: Seth James Wells, The Siege of Vicksburg: From the Diary of Seth J. Wells, Including Weeks of Preparation and of Occupation After the Surrender, p. 16

Diary of Private Seth J. Wells: Sunday, December 14, 1862

Reveille sounded this morning a little after 2 o'clock. We filled our haversacks, got our breakfasts, and by daylight were ready for the march. We fell into ranks, the regiment was formed, and then we witnessed an unexpected ceremony which is disgusting to every true soldier—the drumming out of a fellow soldier for disobedience and disgraceful conduct. I should prefer death to being marched between two lines of a regiment by a guard, at a charged bayonet, with an escort, the band playing the Rogues March, and the remainder of the regiment standing at charged bayonets; but it was soon over, the ranks were closed, and the regiment started on the march. We crossed Wolf Creek, a fine stream one mile from LaGrange. We passed over a fine country somewhat broken. The army has surely left its mark here. Miles of fences and scores of houses have been burnt. From one place we could count seven or eight ruins. The destruction of property is not countenanced by a good soldier, but every regiment has its straggling, order breaking reprobates that are a disgrace to the flag they fight under. We reached Coldwater toward night and camped. I was on guard. I came across an old cove who helped build dam No. 4, in Maryland, and knew all the citizens who live there now.

SOURCE: Seth James Wells, The Siege of Vicksburg: From the Diary of Seth J. Wells, Including Weeks of Preparation and of Occupation After the Surrender, p. 16-7

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 Private John J. Wyeth, December 19, 1862

We were up and at it at the usual time this morning, on the home tramp, which kept up the spirits of many. About ten o'clock we came in sight of our first day's fighting ground. We found that several of the graves of our men had been opened by the rebels. After repairing them we kept on, taking the Neuse Road, which we steered clear of in coming up on account of the heavy entrenchments and barricades the rebels had placed on it. Every little while we had to leave the road and take to the woods to get by their obstructions, which continued for four or five miles from Kinston; some of them were very formidable.

About three o'clock we marched into a large field on the left of the road to receive rations, which we understood had been brought to us on the cars from New Berne, and it was about time; our larder was getting low. We received a little bread, but not enough to satisfy both stomach and haversack, so we filled the former and stowed away the crumbs that were left in the latter. The report is that the bread and beef were left at New Berne, and soap and candles shipped to us,—an explanation which did not soothe our feelings entirely.

We marched about five miles farther and then camped for the night.

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

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 Private Ephraim Shelby Dodd: Sunday, February 1, 1863

Rained all day, came within four miles of Charlotte. A very poor country. I and Reuben Slaughter went out and staid all night with Mrs. Hood. Her husband had been conscripted. She boiled a ham, baked some pies, filled our haversacks and started us on our way rejoicing. Came down to Mr. Ventress.

SOURCE: Ephraim Shelby Dodd, Diary of Ephraim Shelby Dodd: Member of Company D Terry's Texas Rangers, p. 6

Diary of Musician David Lane, March 17, 1863

We have just received orders to be ready to march at a minute's notice, with two days' rations in our haversacks. The quiet of repose is suddenly disturbed by war's alarms; the Rebels attacked our forces today at Suffolk, about twenty miles from Norfolk. The supposition is we go to support our forces at that place. Our men are excited to the highest pitch of enthusiasm. As I write I hear their shouts and joyful exclamations. The Seventeenth has recovered its old-time energy, and is eager for the fray.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 35

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, September 17, 1862

Two letters to-day, and two papers, all from home. Seems as if I had been there for a visit. I wonder if my letters give them as much pleasure? I expect they do. It is natural they should. I know pretty nearly what they are about, but of me, they only know what I write in my letters, and in this, my everlasting letter, as I have come to call my diary. It is getting to be real company for me. It is my one real confident. I sometimes think it is a waste of time and paper, and then I think how glad I would be to get just such nonsense from my friends, if our places were changed. I suppose they study out these crow's tracks with more real interest than they would a message from President Lincoln. We are looking for a wet bed again to-night. It does not rain, but a thick fog covers everything and the wind blows it in one side of our tents and out the other.

Maybe I have described our life here before, but as no one description can do it justice I am going to try again. We are in a field of 100 acres, as near as I can judge, on the side of a hill, near the top. The ground is newly seeded and wets up quickly, as such ground usually does. We sleep in pairs, and a blanket spread on the ground is our bed while another spread over us is our covering. A narrow strip of muslin, drawn over a pole about three feet from the ground, open at both ends, the wind and rain, if it does rain, beating in upon us, and water running under and about us; this, with all manner of bugs and creeping things crawling over us, and all the while great hungry mosquitoes biting every uncovered inch of us, is not an overdrawn picture of that part of a soldier's life, set apart for the rest and repose necessary to enable him to endure several hours of right down hard work at drill, in a hot sun with heavy woollen clothes on, every button of which must be tight-buttoned, and by the time the officers are tired watching us, we come back to camp wet through with perspiration and too tired to make another move. Before morning our wet clothes chill us to the marrow of our bones, and why we live, and apparently thrive under it, is something I cannot understand. But we do, and the next day are ready for more of it. Very few even take cold. It is a part of the contract, and while we grumble and growl among ourselves we don't really mean it, for we are learning what we will be glad to know at some future time.

Now I am about it, and nothing better to do, I will say something about our kitchen, dining room and cooking arrangements. Some get mad and cuss the cooks, and the whole war department, but that is usually when our stomachs are full. When we are hungry we swallow anything that comes and are thankful for it. The cook house is simply a portion of the field we are in. A couple of crotches hold up a pole on which the camp kettles are hung, and under which a fire is built. Each company has one, and as far as I know they are all alike. The camp kettles are large sheet-iron pails, one larger than the other so one can be put inside the other when moving. If we have meat and potatoes, meat is put in one, and potatoes in the other. The one that gets cooked first is emptied into mess pans, which are large sheet-iron pans with flaring sides, so one can be packed in another. Then the coffee is put in the empty kettle and boiled. The bread is cut into thick slices, and the breakfast call sounds. We grab our plates and cups, and wait for no second invitation. We each get a piece of meat and a potato, a chunk of bread and a cup of coffee with a spoonful of brown sugar in it. Milk and butter we buy, or go without. We settle down, generally in groups, and the meal is soon over. Then we wash our dishes, and put them back in our haversacks. We make quick work of washing dishes. We save a piece of bread for the last, with which we wipe up everything, and then eat the dish rag. Dinner and breakfast are alike, only sometimes the meat and potatoes are cut up and cooked together, which makes a really delicious stew. Supper is the same, minus the meat and potatoes. The cooks are men detailed from the ranks for that purpose. Every one smokes or chews tobacco here, so we find no fault because the cooks do both. Boxes or barrels are used as kitchen tables, and are used for seats between meals. The meat and bread are cut on them, and if a scrap is left on the table the flies go right at it and we have so many the less to crawl over us. They are never washed, but are sometimes scraped off and made to look real clean. I never yet saw the cooks wash their hands, but presume they do when they go to the brook for water.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 28-31

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, September 21, 1862

Sunday morning. Nothing happened during the night. We bought a good breakfast of a family who make a business of feeding the soldiers that come here, for I was told there is a detail here every day. I wish it might be us every time. As soon as the new guard arrives we are to go back to camp and camp fare again.

2 p. m. In camp again. It seems hotter and dirtier than ever after our day in the country. Before we left Catonsville we filled our haversacks with great luscious peaches. Those that ripen on the tree the people cannot sell, so they gave us all that would fall with a gentle shake of the tree. How I wished I could empty my haversack in your lap, mother. On the way to camp we met a drove of mules, said to be 400 of them, loose, and being driven like cattle. They were afraid of us and all got in a close bunch, and the 400 pairs of ears all flapping together made a curious sight. We were told they came from Kentucky and are for use in the army. They were all bays, with a dark stripe along the back and across the shoulders, looking like a cross laid on their backs. It hasn't seemed much like Sunday. But Sunday doesn't count for much in the army. Many of our hardest days have been Sundays. But I am sleepy, having been awake all last night. It is surprising how little sleep we get along with. I, who have been such a sleepy-head all my life, get only a few hours' sleep any night, and many nights none at all. I suppose we will sometime get accustomed to the noise and confusion, that so far has had no end, night or day.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 33-4

Diary of Private John J. Wyeth, October 22, 1862

We broke camp bright and early, about six o'clock, had our last bath at the pond, and breakfast at the old barracks, which had been our home so long, and then commenced the packing of our knapsacks and haversacks, till about eight o'clock, when we fell in with the rest of the regiment, and about nine o'clock marched to the station. After a fine salute from the 45th, who were drawn up on the hill at the right of the railroad track, we started for Boston. We marched to the Common, where we found our friends once more. We stayed here about an hour, talking the last talk for many a long week, then fell into line, and escorted by the New England Guard Reserve and other organizations, we took our way up Beacon Street, down Tremont, Court, State, and Commercial, to Battery Wharf to the steamer "Merrimac." Here we had a rest, and we needed it, our knapsacks were full, and the tramp was hard on us. Many of our friends smuggled themselves through the line at the head of the Wharf, and we held our last reception once more. Our guns were taken from us here, and finally we were packed away too, in the lower hold; no light, and about the same quantity of air. We left the Wharf about six o'clock, the cheers of our friends following us far out into the stream.

Our reception while passing through the city was a fine one, the streets were crowded, especially State Street, and we were cheered from one end of it to the other. We leave plenty of friends, as the following clipped from the Transcript will show:

DEPARTURE OF MASS. REGIMENTS FOR NEW BERNE.

 

The city has been thronged by strangers to-day to witness the arrival in the city of the three Mass. Regiments, and their embarkation on board the steamers which are to convey them to New Berne.

 

The "Forty Fourth," which has been encamped at Readville, absorbed the chief interest of the citizens of Boston. This regiment is the child of the New England Guard, and from its appearance, will worthily maintain its hereditary honor. It is the second regiment recruited by prominent members of the Guards, and is largely composed of young men who will be sadly missed here.

 

The hold the Forty-fourth has upon the sympathies and affections of our community has been shown to-day by the large turn-out to greet the boys as they went through the city.

 

The scene in the vicinity of Boylston Street was of quite an exhilarating character. The streets were filled with people, and windows and balconies contained large numbers of the fair sex, who waved their heart-welcome for the soldiers as they marched along.

 

Company H, Capt. Smith, had the right, and Company A, Capt. J. M. Richardson, the left.

 

Crowds thronged the avenues through which the troops passed, and loudly applauded them. The Forty-fourth marched almost with the steady tread of veterans, and by their precision of movement deserved the applause so liberally bestowed. The Roster is as follows:

Colonel—Francis L. Lee.

Lieut.-Colonel—Edward C. Cabot.

Major—Chas. W. Dabney, Jr.

Adjutant—Wallace Hinkley.

Quarter-Master—Francis Bush, Jr.

Surgeon—Robert Ware.

Assistant Surgeon—Theodore W. Fisher.

Chaplain—Edmund H. Hall.

Sergt-Major—Wm. H. Bird.

Quarter-Master-Sergt.—Fred. S. Gifford.

Commissary Sergt.—Charles D. Woodberry.

Hospital Steward—Wm. C. Brigham.

Principal Musician—Geo. L. Babcock.

 

COMPANY A.

Captain—James M. Richardson.

1st Lt.—Jared Coffin.

2nd Lt.—Charles G. Kendall.

 

COMPANY B.

Captain—John M. Griswold.

1st. Lt.—John A. Kendrick, Jr.

2nd Lt.—Charles C. Soule.

 

COMPANY C.

Captain—Jacob H. Lombard.

1st. Lt.—George B. Lombard.

2nd Lt.—James W. Briggs.

 

COMPANY D.

Captain—Henry D. Sullivan.

1st. Lt.—James H. Blake, Jr.

2nd Lt.—Asa H. Stebbins.

 

COMPANY E.

Captain—Spencer W. Richardson.

1st. Lt.—James S. Newell.

2nd Lt.—James S. Cumston.

 

COMPANY F.

Captain—Charles Storrow.

1st. Lt.—Alfred S. Hartwell.

2nd Lt.—John E. Taylor.

 

COMPANY G.

Captain—Charles Hunt.

1st. Lt.—James C. White.

2nd Lt.—Frederick Odiorne.

 

COMPANY H.

Captain—William V. Smith.

1st. Lt.—Edward C. Johnson.

2nd Lt.—Albert R. Howe.

 

COMPANY I.

Captain—Joseph R. Kendall.

1st. Lt.—William D. Hooper.

2nd Lt.—Benjamin F. Field, Jr.

 

COMPANY K.

Captain—Frank W. Reynolds.

1st. Lt.—Richard H. Weld.

2nd Lt.—Fred. P. Brown.

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. 11-13

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, September 2, 1862

We are all togged out with new blue clothes, haversacks and canteens. The haversack is a sack of black enamelled cloth with a flap to close it and a strap to go over the shoulder, and is to carry our food in,—rations, I should say. The canteen is of tin, covered with gray cloth; in shape it is like a ball that has been stepped on and flattened down. It has a neck with a cork stopper and a strap to go over the shoulder. It is for carrying water, coffee or any other drinkable. Our new clothes consist of light blue pants and a darker shade of blue for the coats, which is of sack pattern. A light blue overcoat with a cape on it, a pair of mud-colored shirts and drawers, and a cap, which is mostly forepiece. This, with a knapsack to carry our surplus outfit, and a woollen blanket to sleep on, or under, is our stock in trade. I don't suppose many will read this who do not know from observation how all these things look, for it seems as if all creation was here to look at them, and us.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 13-4

Diary of Corporal Lawrence Van Alstyne, September 5, 1862

Still in Hudson. Was routed out twice last night, for no particular reason as far as I can discover, unless it was to make a miserable night still more miserable. After forming in line and standing there, half asleep, for awhile, the order, "Break Ranks" would come and we would go back to our bunks, and so the night wore away. At 4.30 we were called again, marched out for our morning ablutions, and then marched back again, wide awake, but pretty cross and ugly. We signed receipts for one month's pay in advance, and then had breakfast. We did nothing more until dinner time and were then told to take our haversacks and canteens with us. After dinner we were each given a day's supply of bread and a canteen full of coffee, and told to be ready to march at any minute.

Six P. M. On board the steamship Oregon, bound for New York City. We had a busy time getting off. Crowds upon crowds of people lined the way from the camp ground to the steamboat landing. The windows and the house tops were also full. I don't see where so many people came from. Men, women and children were waving flags, handkerchiefs or anything else that would wave. They cheered us until hoarse. Bands played, every steam whistle in Hudson was blowing, in fact every thing that could make a noise did so. Through it all we marched, reaching out every little while for a final handshake, and a last good-bye. Everyone seemed to know everybody else. I presume I shook hands with a hundred that I never saw before and may never see again. But the heartiness of it all, and the sincerity showed so plainly, that by the time the landing was reached the tears were washing the dust from our faces. I am glad it is over. No matter what comes next, it cannot be more trying than that march through Hudson.

Later. The sail down the Hudson is glorious. It is all new to me. As soon as we were clear from the dock I got into the quietest place I could find and told my diary about it. I wish I could better describe the doings about me. This will do to remind me of it all, if I ever see these scribblings again, and if not those that do see them may turn their imagination loose, feeling sure that it cannot overdraw the picture. But there is no use trying to write any more. Confusion reigns, and I am going to put away my dairy and take a hand in it.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 15-7

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Monday, July 15, 1861

Great excitement in camp; order was received to get ready for a forward movement; ammunition packed; haversacks and canteens were issued.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, p. 9-10