Diary of Private Lewis C. Paxson, Wednesday, April 1, 1863

I made out ordnance report in triplicate form. Our knapsacks and haversacks are being marked by Elsbury and Clark.

SOURCE: Lewis C. Paxson, Diary of Lewis C. Paxson: Stockton, N.J., 1862-1865, p. 15

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan, Thursday, April 13, 1865

Rained last night & thought myself quite fortunate in having procured enough pieces of Reb tents to make a tent large enough to hold Temp & I, we having no tents they being with the teams none of which were brought over I went out after breakfast although the rain was still falling to see fort Sdney Jonston. just finished, a work that 100 men could have held against 1,000 with ease the more I see of the works the more I am glad we did not have to charge them for it would have been attended with great slaughtr. I wished to visit the city but no one was permitted to go. I visited the cemetery where I saw the graves of about 60 men killed in Spanish fort. Some splendid marble mouments, the grond is all laid out in small lots these fenced & the whole enclosure a beautiful flower garden, the graves ornamented with some of the most beautiful shells I ever saw, I returned to camp at 11. at which time unexpectedly to all the Genl was blown the whole Div moved out. The men had without leave gone to the city so that I had but 14 men when we fell in, did not know where we were to go marched through town in platoons, colors flying music playing many remarks made by the by standers about our no's Streets full of negros & creoles. saw thousands of bales of cotton marched through Royal St. the whits did not show themselves much, two Brigs of the Div take the wagon road, an Brig take the R. R. track march out to the 6 mile staton, 2½ mile Citizen rides up says off to the left is a squad of Reb. cav. Col Krez goes to rear, to see about, thinks there are bout 25 same cit says we will find more at the station at Whistler where the R. R. shops are. When we approach, the other Brigs are arriving. See them unslingin knap sacks & double quicken to the front. Our Brig ordered to do the same.

Some sharp skirmishes in front. & can see the bridge at 8 mile creek burning. they were destroying the work shops when our men come up. The Reb run & co G. & B. of 33d & a co of 28th Wis were sent back immediately to a bridge across Black Creek just 2 mile from town to guard it. we marched back reaching it about 5 P. M. on the march back met most of my runaway boys coming up. Several negros come in from the Rebs & report their force at 700 cav & 4 pieces of Artilery. All quiet in the front      Rumors. That Lee has surrendered his army to Grant & with it the Southern confederacy. A salute of 100 guns was fired in Mobile Bay at 9. A. M. in honor of the fall of the city.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, Thirty-Third Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, Vol. XIII, No. 8, Third Series, Des Moines, April 1923, pp. 590-1

Diary of Private Seth J. Wells, March 29, 1863

We had a lively time last night. A storm of rain and wind began about 10 o'clock in the evening and kept up until about 12, when the wind increased and the rain ceased. Out tent bent and reeled like a willow. I got up to dress before she went over, but had just got my legs into my trousers when down she came full tilt. I finally extricated myself, seized my knapsack and started for dry ground, got into the commissary and spread down, when to cap the climax the levee broke through and the water came rushing in upon us. The drums beat, the boys fell in, and we had a general move up the levee. Most all of the tents blew down and some of them were whipped nearly to pieces. In the meantime Captain Bush had his Negro brigade out, filled them up with whisky, and ordered them into the water waist deep. By dint of perseverance and hard work they succeeded in stopping the break. I took up some boards and passed the remainder of the night beside the cotton pile. This morning the effects of the storm were everywhere present. One of the boats was blown up on the beach, the smoke stacks of two others were blown away, and shanties everywhere were blown down and torn to pieces. It continued cold and windy all day. Charlie Berry came back last night. This afternoon Gen. Smith's (John E.) division came down and anchored here for the night. In the afternoon some of the boys of the 14th made a break on the sutler's stock. It was no more than done when the 17th and 95th Ill., 1st Kan., and 16th Wis. came rolling over the levee. Canned fruit, boxes of boots, shoes, oysters, oranges, lemons, bales of shirts, pants, socks, drawers, barrels of soda crackers and sugar, boxes of raisins, and in fact everything which the large stock could contain. He had just got in a new assignment, valued at somewhere near $10,000. The poor old fellow ran around wringing his hands and wishing he had staid in "Chicago." The guard arrived just as they had him completely cleaned out. I can say that my hands are clear of such wholesale robbery. At 9 o'clock roll call the companies had orders to deliver up the contraband articles in their possession.

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. 49-50

Diary of 5th Sergeant Lawrence Van Alstyne, March 20, 1863

Orderly Holmes is very sick. His discharge is under his pillow (or knapsack). He lies in a room next to this and I can hear him talk, giving orders to the company as if he were well.

SOURCE:  Lawrence Van Alstyne, Diary of an Enlisted Man, p. 91

Diary of 2nd Lieutenant John S. Morgan, Tuesday, March 28, 1865

Working parties return at daylight at which time the ball opens again The Enemy were reinforcing last night from Mobile, a little bolder & give us a shell occasionally & quite a no[.] of minnie balls fly over our heads, one of the 35th Iowa is killed in camp near us while packing his Knapsacks At 9.30 Cos. "G" & "B" ordered out as sharpshooters & skirmishers had to advance 400 yds through fallen timber exposed to the fire of the enemy, while advancing, Martin Walraven was wounded in the right fore arm.     gain our position within 100 yds of the Fort & throw up earth works to protect us, were relieved at 3.30 by co K, in coming away John Metz is wounded in the left shoulder & Jo. Dungan in the back passing into the thigh, K Co is to stay until morning. Our Gunboats get up close enough to lift a few shells into the main fort this P. M. When this is seen the boys raise a shout for we all depend a great deal on the Monitors. All the Regts build earthworks from 6 to 10 ft. high to camp behind, 1 man of the 50th Ind Killed by a shell while in camp some guns in our camp broken by a shell. The 1st Ind heavy artillery is reported to have arrived at the landing with 72. Mortors & heavy Parrot guns. It is rumored that our gunboats sunk one & disabled one transport for the enemy. 4 rockets sent up from the fort & it is rumored that the Infty is being transported to Mobile.

SOURCE: “Diary of John S. Morgan, Company G, Thirty-Third Iowa Infantry,” Annals of Iowa, Vol. XIII, No. 8, Third Series, Des Moines, April 1923, p. 581

Private John C. West to Mary Stark West, May 25, 1863

CAMP ON THE RAPIDAN,        

MAY 25TH, 1863.

MY PRECIOUS WIFE:

I have written to you by every opportunity I have had since I left home, and have sent letters by mail and by individuals. I wrote to you yesterday by mail and to-day I am writing again because Mr. Robertson, of Texas, in our company, is going home on sixty days furlough and will take the letter to Waco. My letters are in substance pretty much the same because I felt so uncertain about your getting them that I repeated things which I was anxious for you to know; so you must not think that I am especially "exercised" on a particular subject of any character because it is mentioned in successive letters. We are camped in a beautiful grove of large chestnut trees on a hillside, about a mile from Raccoon Ford. We have no tents and the ground is hard and a little rocky. My fine blanket and shawl were stolen between Branchville and Columbia.

I have left my overcoat with Miss Mary E. Fisher, Franklin Street, between Sixth and Seventh, at Richmond, and all of my other effects, except a change of clothing, at Columbia; and since I have come to camp and gotten a haversack (there are no knapsacks) I have taken out one suit of underwear and put all my remaining effects in my carpetsack to be sent to Richmond; so you see my load is quite light. You need never trouble yourself to send me anything but letters and cheerful hopes. We cannot fight and carry baggage, and my supply will last for three years with what mother can send me. It is no use to have clothes which must be thrown away on every march. We are now about to change our camp and have four days rations cooked, but do not know what we are to do or where to go.

I saw Tom Lipscomb yesterday. He is a major in Hampton's Brigade. He told me that Lamar Stark was taken prisoner in the same fight in which Gillespie Thornwell was killed. Some of them have been exchanged and Lamar will soon be. He is being well treated. This is reported by some of the exchanged prisoners. All of the Waco boys are well except Allen Killingsworth. He has been very dangerously sick with flux and high fever. He is not altogether out of danger but a great deal better. We are trying to find a private house for him as we are to leave here to-day. I have said something in previous letters about your coming to Columbia, and have stated my plans so fully in two letters, one by mail and the other by hand, that I will only say here that if it is as easy for you to get through as when I left you may try it if you choose, but leave all the servants at home. You must get a good escort to Jackson, Mississippi.

I opened my Bible on the first day I arrived at camp, and the first place my eyes fell upon was the 104th Psalm. Cannot a God of such power preserve me and you, or take care of you without me. Be cheerful and do not borrow trouble on my account. I forgot to say that we have plenty of bread and meat and the finest water I ever saw. To-day is a chilly, damp day, and it is raining a little. We will sleep wet to-night as there is no way to keep blankets dry. Aunt Mary Stark gave me a blanket in Columbia. Kiss the little darlings for me, and be assured that whatever befalls or awaits me is all right. God does it and He does all things well.

Your husband, faithfully ever,

JOHN C. WEST.

P. S.—John Darby, my old classmate, is our division surgeon, and gives general satisfaction to every one. He is very much in love with Miss M—— P——.

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. 63-5

Diary of Private Jenkin Lloyd Jones: Wednesday, November 19, 1862

Moscow. To-day, ordered to pack our knapsacks, mark them preparatory to turning them over, and take them to be stored until we were to be permanently camped.

SOURCE: Jenkin Lloyd Jones, An Artilleryman's Diary, p. 13

Diary of Musician David Lane, September 9, 1863

Crab Orchard, Ky.     Again has the note of preparation sounded in our camp, and all hands are busy getting ready for another campaign. In all probability we will soon be on our winding way among the Cumberland Mountains, en route for East Tennessee to assist in driving treason from that unhappy State. Orders have not been issued, but our artillery and ambulances have come, clothing has been issued, knapsacks, haversacks, canteens and tents have been distributed, and, more ominous still, forty rounds of cartridges have been dealt out to every man—in fact, we are ready to take the field at a minute's notice, and only await the order.

"Be ready to march tomorrow morning at 8 o'clock," is the order that greets me as I write. It is one hundred forty miles to Knoxville, our objective point, and will take us fourteen days if unopposed.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 90

Diary of Musician David Lane, September 13, 1863

London, Ky.     We broke camp last Thursday morning, the tenth of September, bound for Cumberland Gap, ninety miles distant. The first day we marched eleven miles over a rough, broken country, and encamped for the night. The next morning we started at 5 o'clock and made eighteen miles; yesterday, nine miles — thirty-eight miles in three days, with eight days' rations and our accoutrements. The second day we marched rapidly, making few halts, our business being urgent, for Burnside's left was threatened, and we were hastening to the rescue. But, thanks to a kind Providence, a messenger met us at this place with the intelligence that the Rebels had suddenly left East Tennessee to join Bragg's army at Lafayette, and the Gap was already in possession of our forces. There being no cause for haste, our commander decided to spend the Sabbath here, and give the poor, tired mules a chance to rest. We will probably resume our march in the morning and proceed leisurely to the Gap—perhaps to Knoxville. We have borne the fatigue thus far better than I expected.

It is a long time since I carried a knapsack, but the more I have to do, the more strength I have to do it with.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, pp. 90-1

Diary of Musician David Lane, September 24, 1863

Knoxville, Tenn.     We left the Gap on the twenty-first and made twenty miles, climbing up one side of a mountain two or three miles, then down the other side. It was a toilsome march, and, when we halted at night, my feet seemed pounded to a jelly. We reached Morristown the twenty-second, and immediately took cars for Knoxville, as we supposed, but the engine coupled to the wrong end of the train, and away we dashed to Greenville, thirty miles up the valley. We arrived there about sundown, stacked arms, unslung knapsacks, made a dash for rails with which to build our camp fires, but, while we were engaged in making them fly again, the bugle sounded "fall in"—the rails were abandoned, we were ordered on board the cars, and took the back track for Knoxville. We arrived here at 4 o'clock this morning and marched directly to the Fair Ground, three-fourths of a mile from the city, where we are now encamped.

The boys are somewhat worn by heavy marches, and a few days' rest will do them good.

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, p. 95

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: Sunday, November 2, 1862

Corinth. I walked up to the Battery, the farthest I had walked since my lameness. Saw the boys off; they left their tents standing, their knapsacks etc. under charge of Lieutenant Simpson, and those unfit for the march. The inmates of the hospital were taken to the general hospital under Dr. Arnold, nine in number, viz: Orderly J. G. S. Hayward (fractured ankle), Corporal G. B. Jones (chronic diarrhea; waiting for discharge); W. W. Wyman (waiting for discharge); G. W. Benedict (diarrhea); E. W. Evans (fever); David Evans (convalescent); Alex. Ray (convalescent); E. R. Hungerford (chronic diarrhea); Jenk. L. Jones (bruised ankle), remained in the hospital until [Sunday,November 9, 1862.]

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

Diary of Musician David Lane, August 30, 1863

Crab Orchard, Ky. We arrived at 10 a. m., making ten miles from Lancaster this morning. Crab Orchard is a lovely town of about one thousand inhabitants. We are encamped about one mile south of the village, in a lovely spot, shut in on all sides by high hills and forests. To the south, far in the distance, the Cumberland Mountains raise their blue peaks as landmarks to guide us on our course when next we move.

From what I see and hear of the surrounding country, the boys will have to depend on their rations for food.

Soldiers are strange beings. No sooner were our knapsacks unslung than every man of us went to work as though his very life depended on present exertions. We staked out streets, gathered stakes and poles with which to erect our tents, and now, at 3 p. m., behold! a city has arisen, like a mushroom, from the ground. Everything is done as though it were to be permanent, when no man knows how long we may remain or how soon we may move on.

Part of our route from Camp Parks lay through a country made historic by the chivalric deeds of Daniel Boone. We passed his old log fort, and the high bluff from which he hurled an Indian and dashed him in pieces on the rocks below. At the foot of the bluff is the cave in which he secreted himself when hard pressed by savages. His name is chiseled in the rock above the entrance. The place is now being strongly fortified.

We had a lively skirmish in Company G this morning. About a week ago the Brigade Surgeon ordered quinine and whiskey to be issued to every man in the brigade, twice daily. During our march the quinine had been omitted, but whiskey was dealt out freely.

Solon Crandall—the boy who picked the peaches while under fire at South Mountain—is naturally pugnacious, and whiskey makes him more so. This morning, while under the influence of his "ration," he undertook the difficult task of "running" Company G.

Captain Tyler, hearing the "racket," emerged from his tent and inquired the cause. At this Solon, being a firm believer in "non-intervention," waxed wroth. In reply he told the Captain, "It's none of your business. Understand, I am running this company, and if you don't go back to your tent and mind your own business, I'll have you arrested and sent to the bull pen. At this the Captain "closed" with his rival in a rough-and-tumble fight, in which the Captain, supported by a Sergeant, gained the day.

I have the most comfortable quarters now I have ever had. Our tent is composed of five pieces of canvas, each piece the size of our small tents—two for the top, or roof, the eaves three feet from the ground. The sides and ends are made to open one at a time or all at once, according to the weather. Three of us tent together, and we have plenty of room. We have bunks made of boards, raised two feet from the ground. This, with plenty of straw, makes a voluptuous bed. I received a letter from home last evening, dated August 13th. Oh, these vexatious postal delays; they are the bane of my life. I wonder if postmasters are human beings, with live hearts inside their jackets, beating in sympathetic unison with other hearts. I wonder did they ever watch and wait, day after day, until hope was well-nigh dead, conscious that love had sped its message and was anxiously awaiting a return. A letter from home! What thrilling emotions of pleasure; what unfathomable depths of joy it brings the recipient. It is not altogether the words, be they many or few, but the remembrances they call forth; the recognition of the well-known handwriting; old associations and past scenes are brought forth from the storehouse of the memory and held up to view. The joy of meeting—the agony of parting—all are lived over again.

We are having brigade inspection today, which is suggestive of a move, but our artillery has not turned up yet, and we will not take the field without it.

The health of our men has improved wonderfully since we reached Kentucky. A more rugged, hearty set of men I never saw than the few who are left. But, as I look around upon the noble fellows, now drawn up in line for inspection, a feeling of sadness steals over me. One short year ago nine hundred ninety-eight as brave, true men as ever shouldered gun marched forth to battle in their country's cause. Of all that noble band, only two hundred in line today. Where are the absent ones? Some, it is true, are home on furlough, but not all. They have left a bloody track from South Mountain's gory height through Antietam, Fredericksburg and Vicksburg to Jackson, Mississippi.

Oh, how I miss familiar faces!

SOURCE: David Lane, A Soldier's Diary: The Story of a Volunteer, 1862-1865, pp. 86-89

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 Lieutenant-Colonel John Beatty, September 23, 1861

This afternoon I rode by a mountain path to a log cabin in which a half dozen wounded Tennesseeans are lying. One poor fellow had his leg amputated yesterday, and was very feeble. One had been struck by a ball on the head and a buckshot in the lungs. Two boys were but slightly wounded, and were in good spirits. To one of these-a jovial, pleasant boy—Dr. Seyes said, good humoredly: "You need have no fears of dying from a gunshot; you are too big a devil, and were born to be hung." Colonel Marrow sought to question this same fellow in regard to the strength of the enemy, when the boy said: "Are you a commissioned officer?" "Yes," replied Marrow. "Then," returned he," you ought to know that a private soldier don't know anything."

In returning to camp, we followed a path which led to a place where a regiment of the rebels had encamped one night. They had evidently become panic-stricken and left in hot haste. The woods were strewn with knapsacks, blankets, and canteens.

The ride was a pleasant one. The path, first wild and rugged, finally led to a charming little valley, through which Beckey's creek hurries down to the river. Leaving this, we traveled up the side of a ravine, through which a little stream fretted and fumed, and dashed into spray against slimy rocks, and then gathered itself up for another charge, and so pushed gallantly on toward the valley and the sunshine.

What a glorious scene! The sky filled with stars; the rising moon; two mountain walls so high, apparently, that one might step from them into heaven; the rapid river, the thousand white tents dotting the valley, the camp fires, the shadowy forms of soldiers; in short, just enough of heaven and earth visible to put one's fancy on the gallop. The boys are in groups about their fires. The voice of the troubadour is heard. It is a pleasant song that he sings, and I catch part of it.

"The minstrel 's returned from the war,

      With spirits as buoyant as air,

 And thus on the tuneful guitar

      He sings in the bower of the fair:

 The noise of the battle is over;

     The bugle no more calls to arms;

A soldier no more, but a lover,

     I kneel to the power of thy charms.

Sweet lady, dear lady, I'm thine;

     I bend to the magic of beauty,

Though the banner and helmet are mine,

     Yet love calls the soldier to duty."

SOURCE: John Beatty, The Citizen-soldier: Or, Memoirs of a Volunteer, pp. 68-9

Diary of Private Theodore Reichardt, Monday, March 10, 1862

Marched through Charlestown, and thence to Berryville. On this occasion, something happened that wants mentioning. When leaving Poolesville, Captain J. A. Tompkins ordered the men to carry the knapsacks on the back. This is contrary to regulations. It created a great deal of dissatisfaction. The lot of a soldier is hard enough, without irritating him unreasonably. But, honor to the lamented hero, General Sedgwick, who, riding by our battery, at Charlestown, peremptorily ordered Captain Tompkins to have no more knapsacks carried by any of his men. An engagement was anticipated. Rebels were seen beyond Ripton. By one and a-half o'clock, our left section unlimbered, and fired two shells towards Berryville. Van Allen's, and the Eighth Michigan cavalry, drove the rebel cavalry, two hundred and fifty strong, out of the town. Our battery followed closely—Gorman's brigade in our rear. The stars and bars were lowered from the church steeple, and a substitute furnished in the shape of the colors of the First Minnesota. The pieces of the battery were brought in separate position by sections.

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, pp. 34-5

Diary of Private Seth J. Wells, December 18, 1862

We arrived at the Tallahatchie Bottoms about noon. Bissell's engineer regiment is encamped here. It has just finished the railroad bridge over the river and the cars now pass on to Oxford in advance. There was a clearing with two redoubts which we passed before entering the woody bottoms of the Tallahatchie. The teams were halted and we slung our knapsacks and carried them over the marshy bottoms. We had advanced but a short distance when the formidable earthworks which the Rebs had erected, loomed up before our eyes. When we once more struck terra firma we were halted, unslung our knaps, and when the teams came up, packed them on the wagons. I started on and entered the camp of the 12th Ind. Volunteers. Found the old members of Co. E. divided among two companies—F and I, both gotten up at Warsaw. We arrived at Abbyville in the middle of the forenoon. The country between LaGrange and Abbyville is rough and hilly.

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. 18-9

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 Theodore Reichardt, Monday, February 24, 1862

Orders came in the afternoon to get ready to march the coming day. New knapsacks were issued, and rations kept ready for three days. Great times in camp, especially in the sixth detachment, all the rations on hand being sold to Benson's for whiskey. Who would not remember S. that evening, the stove, and O! Su!

SOURCE: Theodore Reichardt, Diary of Battery A, First Regiment Rhode Island Light Artillery, p. 33

Diary of Private Seth J. Wells: December 15, 1862

We struck tents early, packed our effects as snugly as possible, and as on the preceding morning, shouldered our knaps. It rained during our entire march to Holly Springs, the flower city of the South, and on our arrival there the flood gates of heaven opened and the rain poured down on our defenseless heads in torrents. We stood it about two hours before the Colonel culd secure quarters. Three-fourths of a mile up the railroad track we found a very large rebel arsenal, but were wet to the skin long before we reached this shelter. It continued to rain all day without intermission.

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. 17-8